Flying with Cows

When I was very young around three years old my mom was the headmistress of a school in Bihar, Bodhgaya district to be exact.  I have a few distinct memories of those early days that I spent at Bihar. 

The first problem that I faced when I went to the new place was the language difference.  I being from a Bengali family knew next to nothing about Hindi.  As children, language seldom becomes a barrier in interaction, I remember playing games with the neighboring children and joining them in hide and seek.  I also distinctly remember my confusion over the word ‘dhup’ which means ‘sunlight’ in Hindi and ‘incense stick’ in Bengali.

One of the adventures that fill me with a feeling of joyful wonder was the day that I spent flying with the cows.

Before I start my tale I believe it would be prudent to describe to you my mom’s place of work.  You see, it was a primary school up to class five.  The school consisted of a few rented rooms in the ground floor of a two-storied-building.  One part of the school was the teachers’ quarters.   Just behind our quarters was a cow shed, which proudly proclaimed a good number of jersey cows.  Those days we had no need for any alarm clock, as the congregation that lived behind our quarters, would wake us up with their morning adulation to the rising sun; the ‘Moos’ and ‘Maas’ would be in perfect composition of notes like a well-oiled symphony orchestra. One another important fact that I almost forgot to mention was that there were two toilets, one for the use of the teachers (which was situated in the school premises) and the other for the use of students (which was situated in the middle of the field, a little out from the school).

On the day the adventure took place, I decided that in order to answer natures call, I must do it in commune with nature i.e. in the middle of the field.  Taking permission from my grade teacher I set forth like a warrior about to go into a mighty battle. 

After doing all the necessary purification that was required, I was just returning back when I chanced upon our dearly beloved neighbors being led to pasture for their lunch (or was it breakfast?).  I decided to tag along.  I sat on top of a black fellow, like an emperor about to visit his dearly beloved subjects, and set forth.  I spent the day with the other cow-boys playing with them, giving bath to the cows in the river.  I even had a wonderful lunch at a stranger’s house.

When evening came I returned back joyfully, I raced into the compound into my waiting mother’s arms and excitedly started to tell her all the adventures that I had that day.  My mom silently led me inside for evening wash and dinner.

That was the first time I ever tasted freedom.  Freedom where there is no expectation, where I could be and behave however I wanted; freedom to do as I pleased;  freedom where I broke away from the monotony of a student’s life; freedom like a bird experiencing its  first flight and realizing the vast sky.  It was a day that I flew with the cows.