The cows come home

Mahesh Grover

WHAT is this commotion?" roared the Lion King, angry at the disturbance during his siesta. “It’s the cows. They say they will ‘moo’ in protest till ‘cows come home’,” replied the fox, his adviser. “What does that mean?”  asked the king. “It means that they are on a ‘sit in’ protest outside the royal den.” “But pray, what is it they want?” asked the king, his mouth watering at the thought of so many cows. “Let’s find out,” said the fox, beckoning the king outside. On seeing the herd, the lion started drooling with unconcealed greed. He tried to speak, but could only make sloppy sounds — Slurp! Slurp! 

The fox, quick to notice the king’s dilemma, whispered in his ear: “Forget your baser and basic instincts. Hear the voice of your conscience and  remember your royal duty.”

The king gulped and asked the agitating herd in a most regal way: “What ails you? What brings you here?”

The chosen herd leader flapped its ears, swished its tail and said: “We need protection my lord.”

“Protection?” roared the king, “how can anyone give you protection?  Everyone is subject to the rule of the jungle, where all animals protect themselves. Jungle laws cannot be changed.” 

“Oh king! Don’t be so insensitive to our plight,” implored the cows, “we are suffering immensely. They say our udders contain white gold, our urine yellow gold, our excreta  chemicals worth gold — all with miraculous properties. We are the ‘holy cows’.” 

“That may be so, but we in the jungle do not give any exalted status to anyone. Each animal can be devoured for food (the king started drooling again at this thought), and none can be prohibited from doing so. In any case, what precisely is the grievance?”

The cows replied timidly: “Oh king, we are capable of looking after ourselves in the finest traditions of the jungle. It is the humans from whom we want protection. They proclaim us to be holy, yet continue to exploit us to make our existence miserable. They ‘milk’ us literally and metaphorically, to be abandoned and left to fend for ourselves. We are hauled, mauled, starved, and condemned to die. It’s better if we fall to a fellow animal, feeling ‘useful’rather than die with a feeling of having been ‘used’.”

“But there are gau rakshaks to protect you and I am told they even skin alive those who skin your dead ones,” interjected the fox. 

With tears streaming down their face, the cows said in unison: “We die a thousand deaths every day. We feel safer in the jungle amongst the professed predators, the gau bhakshaks, rather than gau rakshaks, the masked predators.”

The king nodded understandingly and made a grand gesture towards the meadows, saying: “Go, and henceforth, graze to your heart’s content and be ye liberated from human greed and the exploitative laws of the concrete jungles ye roamed till now.”

The fox smiled at the joyous sight of the dispersing herd and said: “The cows have come home.”