Bovinity

It was standing in the middle of the road, arms akimbo, and a bunch of keys dangling from the Dockers it was wearing. Its protruding belly pointed towards the military base on the other side of the road, and it’s rotund behind aptly pointing at a cheap run-down restaurant stuffed with crotch scratching doodh-patti drinking bearded goons peering out of the smudgy windows. It did not move and it did not stir… it just stood there, with arms akimbo. My taxi driver blew his horn, shouted at the top of his voice, slammed his own car in frustration, but it did not move. Apparently its vehicle had broken down and was blocking one third of the narrow road, while the rest of it was blocked by the worthy owner of the car. Its mouth kept chewing on something unceasingly, as if it were swallowing and regurgitating the contents of its stomach again and again. I could not see its eyes through those classy shades it was wearing, but I’m sure they were looking at the taxi driver.

Agitated motorists behind us blew their horns and shouted obscenities, but it did not move. It just stood there… with arms akimbo.

A few days ago in the erstwhile ‘luxury’ class buses I encountered a similar species sitting right next to me. It was wearing a white shalvaar kameez, and proudly displayed the many folds of its messy shalvaar as it placed one foot on the cup holder attached to the back of the seat in front. A pair of headphones was resting on his belly, and the piercing sounds of high treble Indian movie songs filled the air, much to the annoyance of the other passengers who would do nothing but stare at me occasionally. It was probably unaware of the fact that it had put folds on the foreheads of forty passengers in the bus equal in number to the folds in his shalvaar. Or maybe it knew what was going on and was taking time to react to the situation. Maybe it was waiting for that morsel of sickening chicken-mayonnaise sandwich which it had been chewing for an eternity to slide down its throat and into the stomach. But since that was not going to happen anytime soon, I politely asked the strange being in a language which it could easily understand to reduce the volume of the headphones. It said:

Jee? Avaaz oonchi ker doon?

Once upon a time, in a land not so far away from where I am, a lonely bull was walking through the woods when it reached a narrow bridge. The width of the bridge was enough to let one bull walk over it at a time. When the bull saw that nobody else was coming from the other side, it carefully stepped on the bridge and started crossing while whistling Billy Joel’s We didn’t start the fire to divert its attention from the raging river below. Now another bull appeared out of nowhere on the other side of the bridge. When it saw the first bull trying to cross the bridge, he realized that he would not be able to cross until that slowpoke had finished crossing. So without thinking any further he darted towards the bridge, grunting and snorting as if trying to intimidate the Billy Joel fan, who had not even made it to the center of the bridge. The first bull saw the second bull coming, and froze in his tracks.

“You! Move back before I push you!” said the second bull.

“No sir, I am not moving an inch back from my location.”

“And why not?” said the second bull, eyeing the first bull closely.

“Because I stepped on the bridge first, and you have no right to send me back. It would be better if you moved back to where you came from, so that I may finish crossing the bridge.”

The second bull looked back. All the running and stomping had broken the wooden planks on the bridge, and there was no way back for him, and no way forward for the first bull.

“It’s seems that both of us have got quite a problem here” said the first bull.

“Yes” snapped the second bull. “And I believe it can be resolved in a very gentlebullish way if you just walked back a few steps.”

“But you destroyed the bridge! How would I be able to cross then?”

“Well, that’s your problem, not mine!” said the second bull, and it butted the first bull with its head. The first bull was infuriated, and it punched the second bull straight in the eye with its hoof. The second bull punched back, but the first bull did a quick upper block and returned an uppercut. The second bull swung around trying to avoid being hit by the uppercut and landed a karate chop on the first bulls’ neck. But the first bull was no fool. It was already airborne with both its hind legs ready to send the second bull into the unforgiving white waters below.

“YOU SHALL NOT PASS!” screamed the first bull as its hooves slammed against the second bulls body and sent it rolling back on the bridge and into the river.

But that was not the end of it. When the first bull landed it created a strong impact which sent shockwaves through the bridge. The planks under him broke, and he fell down into the waters. Both the bulls slammed into sharp rocks and ledges as the waters took them down the river and towards the waterfall at breakneck speed. Their bloody mass fell down the waterfall and into the calm water below much to the joy of the hungry hyenas who had not eaten juicy bull meat for quite some time.

A small bird was watching all of this from a tree nearby. It flew down towards the broken bridge, perched on one of the poles and started whistling the first bulls favorite tune.

The human world is replete with similar instances where we do the silliest most idiotic things to prove ourselves right and force others to do the same, resulting in a situation detrimental to both parties. It creates chaos and confusion, and those around the quarrelling parties enjoy the fight, like hyenas enjoying the bulls flesh, and some shake their heads in dismay and walk away, similar to the little innocent bird watching from the treetop. It happens in workplaces, public places, and all the other places you can think of.

The second bull should be the center of attention in the story. The state of mind that the bull was in the moment it saw the first bull crossing the bridge was a transitory state. Prior to assaulting the first bull, the second bull was a seemingly peaceful fellow, bothering less about what was happening around him. In fact, he bothered so less about the things around him that the things around him weren’t too happy with his not bothering about the things around him! He would block paths when sheep were crossing and did not move or say a word despite the fact that hundreds of sheep were complaining. He would bury his nose into a pile of carrots the rabbits had collected and would start nibbling them all while the poor little rabbits shouted and screamed with their tiny high-pitched voices.

But when he saw the first bull crossing the road, invading his kingly right to cross the bridge first, he became offensive. He couldn’t stand there and wait for the first bull to cross and let the stupid birds in trees laugh at him. Deep inside he wanted to be gentlebullish, but he had done so many ill things in his life that everyone thought he was a bad bull, and now he had gotten used to it.

The thing that had been blocking the road moved its foot a little, but quickly pulled it back. It wanted to move off the road but it didn’t. For some reason there was this thing inside its mind that it had been standing there before, and it would continue standing there till eternity unless it wanted to move at its own free will. Nobody could force it to move, no matter how hard one tried.

Split your screen. Create two scenarios in your mind. In one you see yourself as the taxi driver getting out of the car and after shaking him warmly by the hand you politely ask him to make some space for your vehicle to pass. You would say something like this:

“Sir jee, you are a great man. In fact you’re the greatest man of all. The way you are standing here is, like, AMAZING! And your car… ah, it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I am sure you are a rich man and have lots of money. And I am sure you wouldn’t mind if you could move just two inches, only two inches so that I can drive my car to the other side without letting even the smallest molecule of my car touching any molecule or sub-atomic particle on your body. I would be very thankful if you do.”

And when you bend down to kiss his feet, he would jump to one side more than two inches creating enough space for the whole traffic jam to pass through.

Now move on to the other screen. Here you see yourself stepping on your brakes, screaming at the top of your voice, kicking the accelerator pedal and waving your hands at the inanimate mass in front of you. It does not move. It would never move if you acted like that. After a while the mass would suddenly come to life, and would look very much like the second bull in our story.

But I had calmed my driver, and I asked him to drive around him. He drove around the creature trying his best not to get too close to him. When we had finally reached the other side, the taxi driver looked in the rear view mirror and shouted:

“You see! Look back! The cow moved! He was just waiting for us to go so that no one would see that he moved especially for us! Allah Allah!”

Let’s just hope that this bovinity is not a genetically transmittable disease.