The Nirvik Bureau, Bhubaneswar, 3 February 2026
Chapter 1: Sunday Mutton – Now a Luxury Item
In the cosy lanes of Nayapalli, Saheed Nagar, Rasulgarh and Jharpada, a silent tragedy has occurred: Sunday mutton curry has been shifted from “weekly habit” to “annual festival”.
On 31st January, Bhubaneswar housewives were planning their classic combo: mutton curry, rice, papad, one Odisha FC match on mute, and full family drama on loud. On 1st February, Finance Minister madam stood up in Delhi, read the budget, and by the end of it the only thing left in the kitchen was tension and two onions.
“Cost cutting karibaku padiba,” experts on TV screamed. Somewhere in Baramunda, a pressure cooker whistled sadly and pushed the mutton dream back into the freezer, next to last year’s Diwali sweets and broken resolutions.
Rice stayed, of course. Like every Odia, rice can survive any government, any budget, any price rise. But rice without mutton is like Pahala rasagola without sugar – technically same, emotionally insult.
Chapter 2: The Remote Control Coup
Earlier, the TV in these homes had a fixed daily schedule:
- Afternoon: Odia mega-serial – saas, bahu, full orchestra background score.
- Evening: Some bhajan, some bhakti channel, Thakur ghar vibes.
- Night: One last serial plus gossip recap on phone with neighbour aunty.
Then came Budget Day.
The bread earner, who couldn’t even find the volume button before, suddenly became Arnab Goswami of the house. Remote ta haat re, chest puffed, voice serious: “Don’t change the channel, this is about our future.”
From that day, the TV got nationalised.
Homemaker: “Serial dekhuchi, remote de…”
Bread earner: “Chup, budget analysis chaluchi. GDP, fiscal deficit bujhibaku darkar.”
She stands with the ration list in one hand and the remote dream in the other, thinking, “Mo ghar re mu gruhini na, Planning Commission member?”
Meanwhile, on screen, one expert shouts “macroeconomics,” another shouts “reforms,” and she just wants to shout, “Mutton ra daam kete hela, seita kahana!”
Chapter 3: One Question: “Ta Salary Badhiba Ki Na?”
Ask any Bhubaneswar homemaker what she thinks of the budget, she has no time for tax slabs, cess, or capital expenditure.
Her only question is pure, crystal-clear, Cuttack-Chandni Chowk level sharp:
“E budget pass hele ta salary badhiba ki na? Bas, sei kahana.”
Because calculation is simple:
- Salary increase: Sunday mutton curry back, maybe even chicken on Wednesday.
- Salary same: just egg curry and big-big bhashan on “simple living, high thinking”.
- Salary down: aloo curry, kanji, and emotional lecture – “Ama samay re mutton dekhithilu matra Sitalapalli Jatra re.”
Government talks about 5 trillion economy; she talks about 5-piece mutton in one plate. RBI tracks inflation; she tracks how many times she has to say, “Thoda pani badha, dal ta besi habani.”
Chapter 4: From Saas-Bahu to US–India Trade Deal
As if losing the Sunday mutton and Odia serials was not enough, now the TV has been taken hostage by “serious international content”.
First the Union Budget.
Then endless shouting on US–India trade deal.
Then Parliament budget session – live telecast of glorified fish market.
One neta screaming about farmer, another screaming about corporate, Speaker screaming “Order, order!”, and in some flat near Patia, a woman is silently screaming: “Mora TV remote de na.”
She doesn’t care if America is angry or happy. She only cares if the mutton shop near Delta Square will quietly increase rate again. While experts say “India needs FDI,” she is thinking “Mo ghar re FDI mane – ‘Family Dal Intake’ badhiba.”
The only “deal” that matters to her:
Vendor: “Didi, 700 rupee kilo mutton.”
She: “Re baba, e budget keun jantra kala re banauchhanti? Kam heba ki?”
Chapter 5: Serial Time: The New Freedom Struggle
These homemakers are not asking for metro rail to Puri or Silicon Valley job in Infocity. Their demands are very “local, vocal, and emotional”:
- 30 minutes of Odia serial without ticker at the bottom screaming “BREAKING: BUDGET IMPACT ON YOUR LIFE”.
- One peaceful Sunday lunch with mutton curry and rice, without fiscal lecture, chart, and calculator on dining table.
But in the national priority list, their happiness seems to be that small “miscellaneous” line at the bottom.
- GDP growth.
- Trade deals.
- Parliament drama.
- Twitter fight.
- If space left, homemaker’s peace of mind.
So they wait.
They wait for Lok Sabha to adjourn.
They wait for the bread earner to stop watching “expert panel” and start being “expense panel”.
They wait for him to fall asleep on sofa so they can switch channel from “Prime Time Budget Debate” to “Prime Time Saas-Bahu Revenge”.
And they wait for that glorious future Sunday when:
- Salary will go a little up.
- Mutton price will be “thik thak” for at least one week.
- And the smell of mutton curry with garam masala will finally defeat the smell of political drama in their 2BHK.
Till then, welcome to post-budget Bhubaneswar:
Where every gully has one temple, one chai stall, and at least one homemaker silently adjusting her dreams to match the Finance Minister’s speech.
