The cow that reached the moon

Picture Credit : Aryaa Rege

“Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, the cow jumped over the moon,
  The little dog laughed to see such fun and the dish ran away with the spoon!”

English Nursery Rhyme

The Vikram Lander from the Chandrayaan 3 landed with a soft thump on the moon’s surface, echoed by a billion relieved Indian hearts. Ten minutes later, I woke up with a heart thumping regretfully because I had missed the moment, having drifted into dreamless slumber, thanks to a busier-than-usual day in which I, unlike the lander had lost the battle with the elements and a particularly virulent head-cold which left me bleary-eyed and rather sorry for myself. Consoling myself that these were the days of recordings and reruns, I immediately placed myself in ‘watch’ mode.

Congratulatory messages poured in. Every news channel worth their salt had full screen coverage devoted to the moment. Even the normally ‘couldn’t-care-less’ denizens of the Mumbai rush-hour halted in their usual mad scramble for the local trains and trained their gimlet eyes on the huge screens put up on the railway platforms instead of the train notifications board, waving hands and mobiles in unabashed glee. Horns blared, whistles screeched, the Prime Minister waved a small Indian flag on screen and cries of ‘Bharat Mata ki Jai’ rent the air. It was a time for exhilaration, jubilation, and celebration for R.K Lakshman’s common man.

It was also a validation of the great Indian dream. That the unknown could be conquered with the right combination of persistence and grit. Indians now knew that they could aspire for and literally ‘reach the moon.’ It was the ultimate leap of faith for the largely middle- class Indian ethic of the importance of getting a good education which could be the ticket out of a humdrum existence. The song ‘Tere vaaste falak se main chaand laoonga’ which until recently had had most of the country gyrating madly on Facebook and Instagram suddenly seemed more ‘real’ than merely ‘reel.’ Indians were proud of their scientists, their largely home-grown technology and vicariously of themselves. It was the supreme ‘feel good’ moment and it was certainly well deserved.

The failure of the previous two moon missions which had almost resulted in the country’s moon aspirations being consigned to the dust-bin of history, made this victory that much more special. It was a much- needed confidence booster. The difference between ‘moon-on-flag’ and ‘flag-on-moon’ philosophy had been driven home. Everyone was mightily pleased, or at least so it seemed on the earthly if not the lunar surface. The Indian cow had arrived and how! Much to the chagrin and eternal disgruntlement of the New York Times, it was now comfortably ensconced in its new pasture and was contentedly chewing the cud. A truly ‘holy cow’ moment.

Wisdom, they say, can be found in the most unexpected places and one such nugget which remains with me to this day is a dialogue from the popular film Three Idiots. “Dost fail ho jaye, to dukh hota hai, lekin dost first aa jaye, to us se bhi jyada dukh hota hai,” and with the moon landing, India had the distinction of being the first to successfully attempt a soft landing on the lunar South Pole, a notoriously difficult terrain to navigate. And thus, it was time for the frenemies to come crawling out of nooks and crannies. They did not disappoint, rising to the occasion with aplomb.

While brick-bats from abroad questioning the validity and necessity of the Indian Space Program, apparently funded by ‘foreign aid’ when the country could put the amount to better use providing food, water, and medical aid to its impoverished citizens were par for the course, (there is something called sour grapes and colonial hangover after all) it was the home-grown litany of criticism which left many a citizen, including yours truly, truly baffled. Masquerading as cautions and well-intentioned advice of ‘not going gaga’ about one achievement, they were nothing but thinly veiled jibes with the single point agenda of giving a political slant to what should have been a singularly apolitical scientific achievement.

The complaints, it seemed, were not directed at the moon landing at all, but at the Prime Minister, of all people. There were complaints because he appeared ‘on screen’ to applaud the achievement and ‘hog the limelight.’ There were complaints because he dared to look for water on the moon when many Indians were starved of clean drinking water.  Within a short time, the internet was replete with stories of scientists ‘not being paid’ for the past eighteen months, and when this was refuted, of one of the companies involved in the construction of the Chandrayaan being ailing, never mind that the MOS for industries later replied in parliament refuting the involvement of touted company in the project and yet others who spoke lugubriously about ‘budget cuts’, failing health care, growing unemployment and a hundred and one other things which were wrong and in some strange convoluted way were direct offshoots of a successful moon-landing. Then there were those brilliant brains who questioned the pooja offered by the ISRO chief at the Tirupati temple. And yet others who had made a career out of being permanently stroppy about all the things which went right.

Of course, there was comic relief as well, when some people in responsible legislative positions demonstrated their grip on the subject by congratulating ‘the citizens travelling to the moon,’ and by agreeing to set up a welcome committee when the ‘lander came back.’ But the choicest vociferation came from the remarkably voluble chief minister of an intelligent eastern state who asked her fellowmen to recall the happy time when Rakesh Roshan, a popular actor of yesteryear had gone to the moon back in the ‘80s (FYI it was Rakesh Sharma, an astronaut who orbited the earth in a Russian craft, not landed on the moon).

The youth leader of the nation (who has mysteriously found the fountain of eternal youth, how else is he an immature fifty-two?) declared that a rover on the moon would not put food on the table. All that is awaited is full-page advertisements from the sagacious chief minister of Delhi, trumpeting the crucial role he played in the whole enterprise accompanied of course by a demonical cackle. The less said the better about the unnecessary furor caused by naming the point of landing ‘Shivshakti,’ which of course in they eyes of several is a sinister plot to make the moon a ‘blood moon’ (saffron, if you get my drift) once and for all.

Politics aside, this chapter of Indian history is a pean to the power of the people. The formerly elitist space program is now within the grasp of all Indians and it is heartening to hear them express themselves so lucidly. People have imbibed the ‘reach for the stars’ spirit and are finally shedding the inferior mindset brought about by centuries of colonialism. Apart from the expected development in the fields of telecommunications, defense, weather forecasting and aerospace engineering, the most noteworthy achievement of the moon landing is self-confidence. For only a confident people can forge themselves a new path.

Perhaps Mr. Anand Mahindra had the last word on the subject when he replied to a pesky BBC anchor who questioned what the anchor deemed an unnecessary expense “What going to the moon does for us is that it helps restore our pride and self-confidence. It creates belief in progress through science. It gives us the aspiration to lift ourselves out of poverty. The greatest poverty is the poverty of aspiration…”

So, like it or lump it, the Indian cow is on the moon and it is there to stay!

(This article is Part 1 of a series called ‘Dreaming by Moonlight’)