Creepy Crawly Diets :)

Written in one of my whacky moods, a rejected article for HT Edge:

Its tea-time and you want something nice and light to munch. How does a fried wasp sound? Or probably a “fat-bottomed” ant?

Before you shout “Atrocious” you should know that a policy paper on eating insects is being formally proposed by the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organisation. Touted as “Green Meat”, insect meat could be a highly simple, cost-effective solution to the twin problems of global warming and land-resource over-utilization. Arnold Van Huis, the author of the UN paper points out that at present livestock occupies 2/3^rd of the world’s farmland and generates 20% of all greenhouse gases. With world population estimated at 9 billion in 2050, the meat consumption will shoot to such extents that the land needed to support livestock would amount to another Earth!

Compare this to the meager land insects occupy and the high levels of proteins, vitamins and mineral content they have (twice that of livestock). Indeed they could be the next big thing in food. They also come with the added benefit of 10 times less methane emission and 300 times less nitrous oxide (both potent greenhouse gases).

India could derive a few whacky benefits from the weird UN proposal, considering it is a tropical country where insects grow to large sizes and are easy to harvest. With 1500 varieties of insects to farm, we could export the newest delicacies on the block for huge profits. Insect farming would provide livelihood in a country where unemployment rules and no poverty alleviation programme has an impact. Farming of pests such as locusts would not only protect crops but would also benefit the environment by reducing use of pesticides. On the side, it would protect forests where wild insects are collected. It could also be a great solution to the food scarcity problem remote villages in India face.

“Ah! Here comes the yuck factor” you say, but you’ll be surprised to know that insects are eaten in many parts of India such as the Santhal tribal belts (Ant eggs and larvae) and the North East (Grasshoppers and Giant water Bugs). With a bohemian and increasingly daring generation coming of age, insects as food could just work, given the introduction is smooth and appetizing. So here’s to the new bug on the block!

To Samy, With Love

"Divya!! It is very big…. Crawling under your shirt collar… so big, so big!" My voice was barely a whisper.

"What is it? What's under my shirt collar?" Divya asked.

"Its so big… so big!" was all I could manage.

"Oh my god! Is it a snake? Tell me Vasco… What is it?" Now Divya was working into a panic.

I could only eye the large roach moving under the collar and whimper, too afraid to even take its name. You would have expected the thin girl who walked into the midst of this scene to be as scared as we were; but she simply went up to Divya, shook the offending roach off her and shove it out of the room while I screamed and danced like a dervish.

That was Sameera: insect-hunter, lizard-hater, TV-tuner, anime-lover; quirky enough to admire ingenious anime villains and hate harmless strawberries and flowers. Divya, in an inspired moment, named her our "Antichrist Superstar" a title which piqued Samy and also made her smile despite herself.

Though the superstar liked Pink shrieking "So what? I am a rockstar…" she didn't like Divya and me crooning Escaflowne, an anime title song we had taken a fancy to. The moment we went, "Ee---eeeee---ssscaaaaa---flowneeeeeeeeeeeeeee" Samy griitted her teeth and plugged her ears in an effort to block us out. But we chanted on and on, in different tunes and pitches till she gave up and sat with her back to us, her lips twitching in an ill-suppressed smile.

Samy smiled a lot, an indulgent sort of smile. Of course no less was expected when she put up with such harum-scarums as Divya, Keerthi and me, her PS-mates at NAL, Bangalore. She smiled when Divya said the day had become too boring and went on to imagine ghosts, ghouls and secret portals to hell into our mundane room. She smiled when Keerthi said, "Its 10:46 am right now, lets meet up in 13 minutes-that is 10:59- at the gate." She smiled, sitting calmly on her bed while I searched frantically for my shoes one morning until her pity was roused. Then she came forward to magnanimously lift up the blanket and reveal the errant shoes lying on my bed where I had absent-mindedly put them along with my clothes the night before.

That smile, the pet-peeves about strawberries and lizards, that peculiar taste in songs… they made Samy a real person to me. It is always these little things, the traits and quirks that make a person unique and real to you. And when such a person is torn from you it hurts.

Samy died last month in a road accident. Ever since Keerthi told me the news one morning, I've been hoping he will call and tell me it was all a sad sad joke. I've not even told my family about this painful incident in this mad, desperate hope…. It is not easy to believe that a person you can clearly picture in your mind, calling out in her warm, familiar way, could really be gone. That a road accident snuffed out a bright, budding life is just not acceptable. The bus-driver who was at fault for driving in the wrong lane still lives, probably with a few injuries but my friend died. I want to go back in time and warn the driver, to tell him a few minutes saved is not worth a life lost, but death has a horrifying finality about it. Samy won't come back and so it becomes more important to me that all the rest of the people I hold dear to my heart stay safe. Road incidents kill more people than any war or riot does. Please do be careful that no action of yours causes such pain to yourselves or to others.

Samy and I made a hundred plans to meet up after PS ended. Haridwar, Delhi, Aurangabad… all were venues for proposed rendezvous. When I fall into thinking about our plans, I can't help imagining that I will bump into her someday, just the way I unexpectedly meet up with old friends sometimes. Grappling with harsh reality is a mind-numbing task, and I am very grateful I didn't have to deal with the grief alone when first I knew what had happened. I happened to be visiting Bangalore where Divya was at the time. We met up immediately, and held our own memorial service of sorts. We were quiet for sometime but old memories stirred us up soon and we talked away, remembering the beautiful times we had shared: the long walks along Airport road, the Sunday brunches when everybody pretended to like my bland aloo-mash, evenings spent huddled together watching "Supernatural", Divya and me laughing while Samy wrinkled her nosein disgust at the stray flower that had somehow landed on her bed.… Soon we were smiling,those memories of Samy seemed to make her a real presence among us. I felt a measure of peace in that moment, with a person who knew and cherished Samy as much as I did. Whenever the grief becomes too much to handle, I think back to that meeting, and feel better again. I know that Samy lives in my memories… and nobody, no event can tarnish them. I feel thankful that I knew Samy and had a part in her short life.