Sundari, a large brown heifer ran from the truck and down the mountain road towards Kodiya, our summer mountain retreat. Half way down the road she took a turn for the jungle.
Straight down the mountain with a thirty degree slope. One volunteer followed her calf and another cow at a full sprint three kilometers to the barn while one stayed behind to begin the rescue mission.
Cows in India have more rights than the women. They lay in the streets while tour buses and trucks swerve to avoid harming them. The cows are first to receive political messages, as they eat the signs glued around cities for the flower paste adhering them to walls. There are NGOs in India whose soul purpose is performing surgeries in cows who have eaten plastic bags while roaming the streets. Similarly our cow received VIP treatment with her rescue party of seventeen.
The two men in charge of transporting the cattle, Dil and Greesh, sat in a shop drinking whiskey while volunteers, Ramana’s go-to man, Tope, and a stow-away child began the rescue.
Kissan, 11, hid in the transport truck that morning because he wanted to help move the cows. Lokjon, 15, was brought as an extra hand incase something went wrong. All help was greatly appreciated when Sundari went into the jungle.
As soon as Sundari left the road the slope forced the her into a tumble down the mountain, but she only fell roughly 20 meters. Tope, a volunteer, and the boys pushed with all of their might and moved her almost to the road.
“We had her head looking over the road when Dil and Greesh came stumbling up the road,” said SatSundar, a volunteer. “They took the lead rope and where speaking in Hindi, I couldn’t stop them from leading her back down the hill 100 meters.”
By this time Sundari was exhausted and lay down, no one could mover her, and the sun was beginning to set. Dil and Greesh were left to guard her from leopards while the others went to get dinner and blankets for a night in the jungle.
When they arrived with food, Dil and Greesh where standing in the road. “The cow is dead. She fell five kilometers more. Very much dead.”
SatSundar refused to believe the drunks and headed down the mountain in flip flops. He found her laying in the jungle only one kilometer from the road. It appeared that no bones were broken, so SatSundar carried a ten-gallon tub full of food, water, and tea balanced on his head to spend the night guarding the cow.
Tope, Kissan, and Maggie decided to stay as well, while Greesh and Dil walked down to a village to recruit a rescue party—and replenish their whisky supply.
Seven people slept in the jungle with the drunken songs of Greesh in their ears. When the sun rose, ten villagers arrived with picks over their shoulders. A path was cut into the side of the mountain until it met with a trail winding upwards.
At noon, SatSundar arrived at Kodiya with a smile on his face and news of the successful rescue mission.
“Cows are God. They are mother,” said Tope. Indians will go to any lengths to save a cow. One year ago, when a tour bus drove off of a cliff, 24 people bled to death while awaiting help that never came. No one wanted to climb down the mountain to help people. News of this event reached Ramana’s Garden and six volunteers scaled the mountain to rescue the few passengers that survived.
“The life of one cow in India is worth one hundred human lives,” said Lea, a volunteer from Denmark.
Western State Writers Spring 2009 