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June 19, 2004 My morning newspaper reported one day last month that there was a big street fight in Bhubaneswar in which a number of people were injured. What was the cause? When one of the residents beat up a recalcitrant bull, a number of bystanders protested. Arguments ensued, and fisticuffs followed. More joined, and it didn’t stop at fisticuffs. The paper reported that the bull is considered sacred by Hindus, and a platoon of them are roaming the roads of Orissa’s capital. The reporter filled the column with a few funny, and not-so-funny- to-victim anecdotes. Not many days later, I found five or six bovines in front of my gate. I thought they were the cows of the cowherd family that lives right in front of my house. But this was the first time I saw such a large welcome party in front of my house. The cowherd family occupies a no-man’s land larger than my plot for the past twenty years. (The cowherd is dead and his two sons are in jail for murdering a schoolboy. But that is neither here nor there for you or me). An occasional cow in front of my gate was okay. But half-a-dozen was one too many. Late in the evening, when I was about to take the car out, I found two of them refusing to budge. On top of it all, the entire frontage of the house was dotted with blobs of (it’s for you to enjoy the alliteration). I thought the car might skid over to the neighbor’s house when I try to enter the house on my way back. This was too much. I decided to take matters into my hands-I mean the situation, not what you think, thank you! I hollered for the cowherd’s widow and just glared at her when she came in front of me. Knowing my temper (and also since I’m supposed to have saved her life once), she hastened with an explanation, “Sir, they are not ours. You know all these years we never allowed our cows to disturb you or dirty your doorstep”. Then she added, with maybe a hint of a smile, “further, can’t you see that they are not cows at all”. There! She hit the bull’s eye. Rather, she opened my eyes. I realized with some embarrassment that my habit of always looking straight or up (sometimes to God) is not a good one. For a change, I had to look down. I let that go and drove off on my errand. This evening, I read in the papers that amniocentesis is still being practiced in Delhi and Punjab. This, in spite of the fact that gender-discrimination in preference of a boy child through this method is legally banned. Suddenly I became bullish. We all know that Indians have a subliminal bias for the male child. (Never for a moment did I regret that I have just two daughters. To that extent I’m not in that crowd). We also know that most Indians, a majority of whom are Hindu, do not eat beef.(I never did; I never will. To that extent I’m in this crowd). How about applying this wonderful sex-determination test to the bovine population of India? Why does the government not think in terms of incentives for promoters of the idea? Something like “dus gai, ek hi bhai”? (10 cows, only one brother). Believe me, though the thought struck me when I was in the loo, I’m not talking bull-hockey(as the American euphemism goes). I am in dead earnest. If such a scheme is implemented, government would really hit the bull’s eye! ------------ About the author: H. Balakrishnan started writing at the age of 15- a letter to the editor of a national newspaper. In his twenties and thirties, he contributed articles to Indian newspapers and magazines on subjects of human interest. He started writing again this year, and has so far published his features on life in India, culture and the arts in a newsmagazine that is 125 years old. He has done some research for the Reader's Digest off and on. He has edited a book of short stories and has under his belt a book of poetry due for publication in the next few months. Email: balaqua@rediffmail.com Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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