Holy Cow

JAISALMER, India - Cows, cows everywhere and not a slice of beef.

The menus at most restaurants have a section titled "Burgers". It's a cruel, cruel trick and I fall for it every time. My stomach leaps with hope and my mouth salivates. Beef! At last!

Each time I am left with a deeper pit for it's only a worthless imitation - that granola favorite, the veggie "burger".

Not that the mostly emaciated cows eating trash off the street look all that delectable - certainly no filet mignon. But surely there's some decent ground chuck to be had.

I am craving a big, fat juicy steak. I'd settle for a nice hamburger. I will get neither.

But being a holy animal in India is not all it's cracked up to be. The Indians won't slaughter cows, but they don't do much to ensure their survival or happiness either.

The cows wander where they please with complete disregard for the commotion around them. They also stop wandering wherever suits them, sometimes lying down smack in the middle of the street and forcing cars, auto-rickshaws and motorcycles to find a way around them on the narrow roads. Pedestrians do best to just jump as far out of the way as possible for the cows don't alter their path to accommodate anything. Cows are the langourous kings of the road.

But that's about the extent of their privilege.

I just don't think cows were ever intended to be city folk. Urban living isn't exactly conducive to grazing. The animals end up foraging for food among the sickly sweet smelling trash that piles up along the sides of every road in India. Their ribs threaten to poke right out of their skin.

It inspires some unusual cow behaviour.

The other night around dinnertime I saw a white cow walk up a set of steps leading to a house. It was begging for scraps. The bold cow stood there peering into the open door. A few minutes later it took another step up and rested its head on the doorway.

The cow's style reminded me of the way my well-fed yellow lab would rest his head on your knee, looking up at you with sad eyes as if to say: "one cashew, just one little cashew from that nut bowl would be the difference between life and death for me. Come on, have a heart. Share the bounty."

The beggar cow looked much better than many of others that I'd seen, so I assume his efforts pay off. The neighbors said he comes 'round every night. Cows are holy animals, they said, it's good karma to take care of them.

I wonder what they'd think about me picturing that very cow on a dinner plate. I'll probably come back in my next life as a beetle.


An unrelated but funny menu note: Here in Rajasthan alcohol isn't illegal but is it's rather taboo and not widely available. Restaurants have to pay insane fees for a liquor license. To get around that and please the Western tourists who want a cold beer at the end of a day in the desert, there's an item on nearly every menu in town for a "special cold coffee".