Dear Humans,
My name is Gauri. I am 17 and brown in colour. Right now I have only one horn on the left, I lost the right one when a car rammed into me while I was crossing a busy Mumbai street. I was hurt and shaken up, I was so scared that I peed right there! A guy who lived nearby tried to help me as I was bleeding profusely; he put some haldi on my wound and started calling veterinarians and NGOs. I waited in pain for two hours but after losing hope of getting help from any of the NGOs, I got up and started walking. Finally after a thirty-minute painful walk, I was home. My owner was fast asleep. My sister saw my wound and licked it through the night, hoping it would heal...it felt good! Now I’m fine. I got over that accident in just a few days.
Over the years with all the discussion around me, I have understood that there are Hindus and Muslims. They look the same, but they believe that they’re very different. Hindus worship me and Muslims don’t, but I’ve lost a lot of friends to beef-eaters, who I’m sure include both Hindus and Muslims.
The best part of my days are mornings, when three of us are tied outside a temple in Bandra. I only wish the rope was slightly longer so we could move around without banging into each other all the time. Here, elders come to feed us, which I absolutely love. A lot of men on their way to work just touch me and move on, that’s really quite annoying. Imagine someone touching you every two minutes. The reason I don’t respond or acknowledge is because I am fed up of this ‘touching’ business. They touch me and then kiss their own hand. Yes, I know they think I am some kind of god. But how can I be God? I am just an animal. God made me just like he made all other humans and animals. A stray dog, Sheru hangs out with us every morning too. He’s a sweet little thing. Doesn’t ever dig into my food, I don’t think he likes what I eat. But no one prays to him or feeds him...wonder why? From what I’ve heard, Dattatreya or Datta, a Hindu deity, who is considered to be an avatar of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, was fond of dogs and always had four of them around him. So technically, Sheru should also be worshipped.
When foreign tourists see me, they stop and take pictures. These days the style of clicking pictures has changed though. They face their back towards me, make sure their face is in the frame too, stretch their hand out and click. This morning, the girl who took a picture with me, immediately called someone excitedly and said, “I got a cow selfie!”
Right now we are three of us, my little calf to my right and my younger sister to my left. Both are called Ganga. Till last week we were four but one was taken away and I could hear her screaming, just before she was slaughtered. I could smell her flesh as it was taken right in front of me in steel buckets, which were dripping with blood. I heard it was sold illegally to some fancy restaurant and our owner got a hefty price for it. The word got out and soon a Hindu mob with orange flags, attacked our owner. They broke his house and our shelter along with it. Last night it was raining and we got drenched because we didn’t have a roof above our heads.
I’m not sure who ate my friend at the restaurant, a Hindu or a Muslim or someone else, and I really don’t care. My friend is dead and I miss her. I am not fighting with Hindus or Muslims because that’s not my nature! Have you ever seen us fighting? My friend was killed and I should be infuriated. But the Hindus are angry enough for her because they believed she was a reincarnation of God. While some Muslims are equally angry because they say they didn’t eat her, so why should they be at the receiving end?
People came, fought and moved on. Even the media covered it, but they all moved on to other interesting stories. I understand...how long can one talk about a dead cow? We are not the most ‘happening’ lot around, and frankly we’re happy this way.
But, my dear humans...when I met with an accident you didn’t come to help me. There aren’t even any ambulances for big animals like me that operate in the night. But if you worship me and really want to do something to help, why kill each other over me? That doesn’t help anyone. To begin with, try not leaving me on the side of the road, bleeding to death. Doesn’t feel nice to be worshipped in the morning and left to die in the night! I don’t really know if the boy who helped me when I bumped my horn, was a Hindu or a Muslim, I really can’t tell the difference. Neither have I ever seen him pray to me!
Your loving ‘mother’,
Gauri.
(Rohit Khilnani is an avid animal lover and a journalist with The Quint. About a month ago he tried to help an injured cow after she met with an accident in Bandra but even with all his media influence, he failed to do so, because he was told that none of the NGOs in Mumbai are equipped with facilities to pick up big animals at night.)
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