circa 1985, h.p. india.

circa 1985, h.p. india.

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

the buffalo.


re-posted from a few years ago.

On my third day in India, I saw a man beating a water buffalo mercilessly with a wooden cricket bat while a smaller man held it by its nose-ring and neck-rope.

The men were yelling while flogging the beast as it bellowed in pain. Nobody paid much attention until I grabbed the arm of the larger man and demanded that he stop. Then a crowd quickly formed around us and the two men screamed at me and at the crowd. There were a lot of histrionics I didn't understand until one willowy old man told me in English that the buffalo was very stubborn. I said that was no reason to beat i.

At that point, the two men did something I was not expecting. They handed me the rope and intimated that the buffalo was now mine. The two men stormed off, the crowd laughed, clapped, called out to each other while I stood frozen to the spot.

I was at a total loss, no idea what to do. Within three days of being in the country I found myself wandering through a market with a water buffalo that, by the way, was indeed incredibly stubborn. It seemed singularly ungrateful to a guy who had just saved it from a heck of a thrashing.

I hadn't gotten far when the willowy old man approached. Seeing me struggle, he smilingly said, "You can do with that buffalo the same as so many problems in the life. Before you lose your good sense, my son, you can simply let it go." And that's exactly what I did.

No comments :

Post a Comment