Where are the Indian cows?

In 1980, there was only one “foreign cow” I knew of. From grandpa’s home in Chennai, you walked past a marshy stretch of land to reach the cowshed. And there she was! Someone told me she was called “Jersey”. In the afternoons, there was nothing much to do, apart from conversing with Jersey.

Unlike Indian cows that are single-tone- either jet-black or brown in color, Jersey looked different. She was white- milk-white, with black patches, like a bigger version of a Dalmatian. Indian bovines have a pronounced hump and prominent horns shaped in a curl. Jersey had different features- she was more thick-set, and the horns were tiny stubs.

You wondered how Jersey made her way to Chennai. Imagine- you are grazing at Shropshire. There’s a nip in the air, a light drizzle, and lush green meadows- the English pastoral landscape stretching till the horizon. One day, you are bundled up, perhaps in a ship, and suddenly land up in Chennai. Yes Chennai “maanagaram”- with its sweltering heat and humidity through the year, and swarms of houseflies that won’t give you a moment’s rest. An alien land and an alien language- so much so, even when they speak English, it still sounds Tamil! Jersey’s culture shock must have been immense.

I tried to pick up a conversation with Jersey hoping to ease her acclimatization. What better topic than Cricket? It’s an intimate bond we share with the English, don’t we? Changing to an English accent- “Hey Jersey! You know what? Geoff Boycott just got out- he was cleaned up by Ghavri!” I was hoping Jersey would immediately rise, all excited, agog and attentive, at the mere mention of “Cricket”. Jersey showed no response- just a twitch of the ear to ward off a buzzing fly and continued chewing its cud. It was disappointing, to put it mildly. “Hey Jersey! Surely you would know Gooch and Gower and Botham! Don’t you?” Jersey chewed more cud. By now, I had exhausted all topics connected to England- save starting from Dadabhai Naoroji and the freedom struggle. But I guess, Jersey didn’t seem the History type.

Once vacation was over, we were back in Mumbai and Jersey remained a memory.

Fast-forward now to the present. Over the years, I did learn that Jersey was not a particular cow in Chennai, but an entire bovine breed. When you look at today’s India, Jerseys have taken over! Cheetahs may have a tough time acclimatizing to India. Jerseys have no such problem. They are totally at home- used to Indian weather, used to Indian food garnished with spices and masala and even the occasional plastic. When you travel by train, the only bovines toiling in the fields are Jerseys. When you look around your metropolis, Jerseys are all over, roaming around at will.

Interview any of them and they are candid, mooing in their clipped English accent. “We love India! There is so much variety and so much freedom! We roam all over- the countryside, the towns, and the choc-a-bloc cities. There are no rules- we can stroll on the opposite direction of the road or take an afternoon snooze, right in the middle of the highway! No questions asked! By Jove, that’s so cool! You know?”

Meanwhile, what happened to the great Indian cow and bull? Isn’t India the vraja-bhumi, the land of Nandi and Nandini, Surabhi and Kamadhenu? What happened to the lordly Rishabha embossed on the Mohenjo Daro seal?  Except for events like “Jallikattu” and the fortune-teller who parades a decorated bovine, the Indian breed is non-existent. Evidently, the Indian cows and bulls have migrated to greener pastures.

Like the IT youth has abandoned India, and taken over California’s Silicon Valley, hopefully, the Indian cow and bull are making it big elsewhere. Who knows? May be, they went on an H1-B visa to the US, got themselves upgraded to a green-card and eventually secured citizenship in the promised land. If I meet this tribe, I will question them, “Don’t you miss India? We celebrate Pongal for you each year! Do you know that?” They will likely respond, now in that thick American accent, “You said Pon-gaal…Pon-gul…did you? Gosh! What is it?  My grandpa and grandma, I guess, were from India. But we grew up here. Yeah! We are third generation American cows.  We like it here!”

What is a loss for the Indian cow, is Jersey’s gain. For “maattu Pongal”, Jersey’s forehead is smeared with turmeric and Kumkum, its tiny horns are decorated with a cap of gold, and it is pampered with a sumptuous feast!