Most of our major cities in India get their milk supplies from their local cooperatives. In Odisha it is called OMFED. It was not so during my growing up days. We had to depend on local GAUDA (in Odia) or GWALA (in Hindi) meaning "the Milkman". Sometime it could be the GAUDUNI or the milkmaid. Either way, there was no concept of getting 100% pure milk. If you are lucky you might get it in less adulterated form. Even the most honest of the milkman/maid would mix some water. Like gold the milk would never be 24 carat, its purity depending upon the person's honesty and his degree of dilution.
Adjacent to the BJB Flats (apartments) we used to live were the government quarters of the class IV employees. Most used their front yard to fruitful use farming fruits, veggies and kept cows in sheds in their backyard to supplement their income. After finishing my gully cricket, my task every evening was to trudge a furlong to one such dingy residence and fetch our daily quota of milk. This particular Milkman was known to be well versed with our ancient scriptures. With an impressive voice he could readily recite couplets from BHAGABAT and PURANA from tip of his glib, loquacious tongue. Rumor had it, he was blessed by Lord Krishna and his black cow delivered the sweetest milk not found anywhere covering several miles from the epicenter of his house. My mother had immense faith in him, flattered by him addressing her as MAA (mother) and touching her feet most mornings when she would venture out to pluck flowers. A pious man of such stature would never do such a mundane act of diluting his well earned, accrued good Karma by diluting the milk. Or so we thought.
One fine evening as usual I reached the cowshed, swinging the classic cylindrical metallic container by its thin metal string tied to its top. In the twilight inside his shadowy shed he started milking in dimly lit lantern light. To the unsuspecting in me it still didn't get unnoticed as he tilted his milk bucket and stealthily poured water into it from a shapeless, dirty LOTA (pot). I told this to my mom who dismissed it as my figment of imagination. A few days later I contacted fever. My uncle who covered for me also saw the same and almost got into a fist fight with him. The milkman would never admit of any wrongdoing and resorted to the usual GALUAMI (The Odia term for stubborn refusal to admit). His hypocrisy exposed, we eventually switched to another Milkman.
It explains the popular Odia idiom KETE PANI MISICHI (how much water is mixed) to ascertain the degree of manipulation made. It is best seen in gully cricket matches where at least 5% score is added by the scorer to the ultimate tally. Like milk a little bit of adulteration here and there wont hurt. I have heard how tiny pebbles were ideal mix for rice, grinded brick granules for Chilli powder, dried Papaya seeds for Bloack pepper and so on. It probably explains why Gold is 22 carats.
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