Laughing Gas

These days Gas is king. And for now I am not talking about the byproduct of an inefficient digestive system. The government did not want to but had to hike prices of petrol, diesel, and LPG. The Opposition knows the government had no choice but will protest the hike. Businessmen do not want to harm the poor, but will have to for self-preservation takes precedence over Nation. So where does it leave the common man? In a Gas chamber, I guess.

That was the serious part of the story. But there is no point in worrying about it now, is there? For there is very little that people like you and me can do about politics, largely a preserve of the demented mind. The only time we come into play is once in five years, when he the humble politician barges into our building, knocks on our door surrounded by 8 to 10 ruffian looking men, and demands our vote. It is our franchise, but their right, you see!

So I resort to humor in trying to find ways of how we can solve our Gas, as Oil is called in America, problem. This may sound crude to most, but one way is to recruit people with ample gas reserves (read ability to pass wind at will) and use them to fill our LPG cylinders. We can call it HPG, or Human Personalized Gas. Anyways when gas burns, it rarely stinks. These cylinders can also serve as stink bombs that we can throw at politicians to tell them how much they stink. But I am not sure if it will work, for pigs thrive in slush, don’t they?

Maybe housing societies in Metros can erect sheds in their compounds and rear cattle. This will be dual purpose: a) daily supply of milk, b) Gobar (cow dung) gas. Maybe we can even collect cattle urine in a big covered pit. Over time, it will emanate fumes similar to public toilets in Mumbai. We can use those fumes to fire our burners in the kitchen.

A city like Mumbai must be generating huge amounts of human waste on a daily basis. The city already has the Dadar Malpravah Prakriya Kendra (Dadar Waste Recycling Center) where human waste is converted into potable drinking water. And that water is supposed to be cleaner than that which runs through our taps. Water aside, maybe we can look at ways to convert the huge amount of human waste into gas, and add a dash of perfume, if needed.

Here the migrant population could be of great help; opponents of migrants to city, this is mainly for your consumption—the information, not the gas. Mumbai has at least 7 million people living in slums or on sidewalks. I can see a huge opportunity here. We can build a few more Malpravah Prakriya Kendras for harnessing their bowel movements to our advantage. I can taste water and smell gas already. And the migrants can be paid to defecate in customized toilets. It will be win-win situation for everyone. We will get gas and water, the migrants will get money to crap—I think that would be a first in the world—and we can walk on streets and sidewalks without the fear of cutting cakes daily.

If I apply my mind to it, I can come up with many more such ideas, but I guess there is a limit to how much crap readers can digest. So I end with the thought that if I cannot change the world, at least I can laugh it off. Laughter is the best medicine, isn’t that what we have been told since time immemorial?