CLEANING THE AUGEAN STABLES

  

It’s preposterous! Shocking! Its blasphemy to heap such torture on this most graceful creation of the almighty ! Is this what you learnt in 7 years in the University, Mister? Yelled the Commandant at me, a greenhorn Lieutenant on his first posting to the historic Army Stud Farm established some 200 years back by the Brits. He went on and on and I kept listening with a poker face and ramrod straight back in attention.

 Eventually the old man exhausted his lungs and his vocabulary. Finally he pointed to the paddock in front of us with his driving crop and yelled “Youngman you better clean up these Augean Stables before my next inspection or I will have you for Breakfast! Do you understand”? “Yes sir” I heard myself yelling to which he touched the rump of his chestnut Halflinger with his crop and the Gig shot ahead spraying me with flying mud from its wheels.

I was left staring at the paddock in front of me. On my arrival in the stud, I was handed over the “Peera wali paddock” called so due to a Peer Baba Mazar nearby by Capt Muthu (called Muchhad by syces as he sported huge Rajput warrior moustaches) who had proceeded on posting. I recalled the day 2 months back when the paddock looked straight out of postcard of Austrian alps as beautiful Noriker mares grazed contendedly in the luscious green grass. The contrast between that picture postcard and the cesspool in front of me could not be starker. I felt my head swimming as the Norikers somehow transformed in front of me into hippo wallowing in mud. I shook my head and moved to my perch under treatment shed where a syce offered me water. It was clear to me that the paddock was in low lying area pooling from surrounding high ground. And now in front of me, the pride of stud, these imported mares were in knee deep fetid water after 3 days of incessant rain. 2-3 more such days and I was sure their feet would start rotting and lead to untreatable condition, the nightmare of vets – “Canker”. I knew heads were bound to roll then and mine would be the first! I felt sweat breaking on my brows. 

“Karna”! I yelled for Daroga of Peera wali - my Friend, Philosopher & Guide, since I had landed in the Stud. I asked him how on earth the paddock was sited on low ground throwing all caution to wind, against the very basics of Animal Husbandry. “ Jab yoo paddock bana thha, toh high ground hee thha. Ye jo stable safaiwale roz leed (Dung) utthate hain, uske saath maati bhi jaati rahi aur 30 saal mei yoo low ho gaya sahab’ disclosed my Man Friday.

 I felt weight lifting as I had the cause. Now I had to find a solution. A 5 BHP motor would drain the paddock but it wasn’t the permanent solution I needed. At night as I lay sleepless in my room  I went over my tryst with Commandant again in my mind. “Augean Stables” the old man had said. I googled it and found the story behind the idiom.

Next day first thing at paddock I sent for the Daroga. Karna appeared in his trademark white kurta pyajama complete with his latth in the right hand and safa on his wizened head.

 “ Augeaus ka naam suna hai”? I asked. 

 Deep furrows appeared on his forehead. “ Wo kya bala hai” ? he inquired.  

I told him about Great Augeaus, the king of Athens and his famed multitude of horses as none other had. And due to unmanageable numbers his stables were epitome of filth. How Hercules had challenged and won by cleaning the stables in a single night by diverting two rivers into the stables. 

Myself –  Tum ne suna thha na uss din kya bole thhe Comaandant saab mujhe ?

Karna  -  Haan saab.

Myself - Toh kya kar sakte hain?

Karna – Kuchh nahi. Bas apko Hercules banana hai.

Myself – Kya! Kaise?

Karna – Paas main hee Krishna nadi hai.

Myself – Toh ? Usko layenge? Usme toh paani bhi nahi hai. Sirf Balu hai.

Karna – Wohi toh. Mujhe tractor aur 4 admi do ek week ko.

 And so we lifted 20 tractor trolleys of Krishna river sand and dumped into Peera wali. 

Come next rain and I proceeded to the paddock with apprehension. I found the Norrikers enjoying the cool breeze happily grazing in the paddock. Daroga joined me and we both savoured the sight quietely.

Tik tok tik tok – the commandants Gig approached us. I saluted smartly. The old man seemed to betray slightest hint of dismay. Was it for the lost chance to hone his bull shitting skills I wondered.

Commandant – Seems you guys have been at work. Good. Daroga, naye saab settle hog aye?

Karna – Haan ji saab.

Commandant (with a wink) – Sab saab log ki tarah inka naam rakha tum logo ne?

Karna – Haan saab.

Commandant – Kya?

Karna – Hercules.