Confusing Modernization

In the Hindu religion, cows are revered. We pray to them for peace of mind, prosperity in life, and happiness. They have long been part of the traditional system. They were largely domesticated within Indian households. Our ancient economy was largely dependent on them. Having a cow at home was considered a source of strength. It would provide milk — one of the greatest vegetarian sources of nutritious food. It would also provide cow dung, which was used as fuel for the traditional chulha — the clay stove.

Cow dung is also believed to have anti-bacterial properties, which were utilized for coating old mud houses. In fact, before any auspicious occasion, houses would often be coated with a layer of cow dung paste. Over time, cows became a source of several material benefits, and later became part of rituals and stories in the scriptures. Something that provides material benefit to humans — and in turn social stature — naturally sees its value increase.

My interaction with cows has been a mix. During my childhood, I would visit our native village and often peek at them. They would calmly look back at me, either standing or sitting. I think we were both fearful during our first interactions. But I never felt any hostility toward cows or buffaloes. I had seen my grandmother and grandfather milking the cows. They would do hard work around these peaceful animals. They carried out all sorts of activities to rear them. It is not easy. There is a lot of manual labour involved.

I had seen the calves playing around their mothers. Lovingly, we too played with the calves. They looked so cute. It is a privilege to have a connection with one.

Times have changed. India has modernised. Industrialisation has increased. People are moving away from villages in search of work and a better life. There has been a gradual shift away from the agriculture-based economy as more people move out of it.

Have you heard people talk about going back to their villages? In urban spaces, we do not have the luxury of larger homes. We are nested into calculable square feet of 1 BHK and 2 BHK apartments. A verandah is a luxury. A balcony is a privilege. A common compound is an indication of richness. This unplanned migration away from villages has created a resource burden on city infrastructure. So where will we keep cows and buffaloes? We discard them.

I think we Indians — or perhaps us Hindus — are stuck in a generational dilemma.

I live in Mumbai. Once, while I was somewhere in the city, I saw a lady sitting beneath a tree on a footpath. She owned two cows — one yellowish and another whitish in colour. Both were tied to the tree. The lady had stockpiled pasture grass and grain balls beside her. She was engaged in a noble sort of “business”. She allowed urban people to take care of the cows by feeding them in return for a few bucks.

These two cows were well-fed by passing people. They would stop, hand over some cash to the lady, and in return feed a few grain balls to the cows. I felt delighted seeing this relationship. It became irresistible not to utilise this opportunity to gain good karma. People would later bow before the cows and seek blessings before leaving and getting absorbed once again in the urban hullabaloo.

At another instance, I saw a woman trying to feed the cows by herself, and the lady immediately stopped her. Well… it’s a business, and life goes on.