THE COW AT WORK

Not even a couple of hours ago a summer-day’s scourge of diabolic hot was at its worst letting loose more of a corporeal terror against all living entities. Only God best knows what a fatalistic pleasure the sun relishes out of observing the lives wriggling and wriggling to numbness under awful waves of sizzling temperature. Now it is at rest for the day leaving its preys to recuperate to life. Thanks God. The savage sun on its pilgrimage reaches the west morphing awfully lot, from one roguish to gentle, blazing to waxing, and devilish to solemn. All bountiful has it grown. Balmy gleams, pinkish, yellowish, reddish or the blended one, from the waxing yolk, floods the whole earth that has so far been laying in stupor with the blistering wounds, and is limping back to normal with the great lull. Sensuous beauty, heavenly serenity, and moistened carefreeness, the earth emerged rich with at the daybreak, were all mercilessly plundered by the blaze of the ruthless sun only to see living occupants charred from within and without. Incredibly though, the sun now stands dripping drenched with remorse, death wish brewing up to indemnify the colossal loss of the dawn with the affluence of the dusk. From nowhere, just to be true, come flying the breezes bringing in with them the soothing lull. Leaves that up till the moments earlier dangled drooping, bounce to rustling softly in the rhythm of the breezes. Noiseless birds now busy ruffling up their feathers with their brisk beaks, break into sudden cheeping quite in a nostalgic mood as though stirred by the reminiscence of their antemeridian feats. High above the patches of fleecy clouds, gleeful and extraordinarily conceited at being jazzy with the golden streaks of velvety sunshine, are fly floating care freely as if to overseer the atonement ceremony of the sun.

All the living souls that have grown droopy, are now getting immersed in the profuse golden gleams. Scorching sun truly played mischievous pranks with them draining out all vitals from them. Even the blades of the grasses over the small patch of meadow here stand downcast. But to everybody’s utter astonishment, a cow at work in the meadow has vehemently refused to get cowed down by the day’s thermal menace. If you have a close watch on it you sure can hardly find any kind of lightheadedness about it. With its long neck stooping diagonally reaching down the grasses, it poses all spunky and full at devoted work. Black tipped snout, with wrinkles playing on it, against the springy turf, goes chomping. Who tells it is a mere ruminant chewing cud under a shade of a tree or in its byre with droopy eyes? Every touch of professionalism is exhibited about it, shunning as though its bovine disposition. What it only knows is that the time is soon to be ended up and no single moment worthy to be misspent in the name of the titillation of the divinely twilight. Quite dexterous in mowing the green grass and transporting the mass into its rumen, the cow perfectly demonstrates every single thing for any one who wants to learn what undeterred devotion for a work is all about. There are of course, scores of irritants, gnats, flies, mosquitoes and the like who are out to vex this creature. But who cares? All inbuilt defensive instruments are pressed into service. It keeps its bushy tipped tail perennially busy swinging around and swashing against it body to shoo away these pestering flying elements. How master in selfprotection with profound delicacy is fully understandable when it plays ripples across muscles underneath the skin in order to thwart attack of these irksome flying objects. The pair of long ears never stops flapping. Then all on sudden emerges a stray mongrel just where its muzzle continues being at speedy work, may be with a silly desire to play prank with it, only to get an instantaneous head-butt from this timid creature, and breaks to running away whining. Thus, it employs its every possible limbs for its defense, that too without slightest stoppage of its main action. Silhouette of approaching evening and returning flights of birds back home tell the fast end of the day. Yet the cow shows no sign of receding its opportunistic harvest, rather it grows workaholic. But its master appears in its way. Now the noose around its neck orders it to cease its work. One or two obstinate and rebellious twist of its head was enough before it finally gives in to its master’s pressure, now getting it that it has to go. The cow, appearing fatigued, begins lumbering homeward, fully satiated with the catch. Wish it a happy nocturnal ruminating.

To a little exaggeration, I still stand taken aback wondering, taking and taking me inside my analytical being, driven, of course, by my inquisitiveness, to sum up what the dumb creature has tutored me. It possesses the wisdom that suggests time is precious in our sojourn in the earth, plus that being hell bent to the maximum cashing in on it at every possible moment , is indispensable to stonewall the fatal grip of dog-eat-dog antagonism and other odds in life. It bothers me little if the excellence the cow has originates from its instincts. It matters that it exhibits. And more of its wisdom is on the display when its master pops up in a tearing hurry, tattered with the stress in his face, not being sensitive a bit to ponder if he now suits to apply his authority over it breaking such a determination. On the contrary, when the cow finally takes it is time to retire, it cuts its being serious, and in no time, goes happy- go-lucky. You sure can not spot out any presence of stress and worry about it. Here lies the quintessential lesson to learn.

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