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Rated: E · Short Story · Experience · #976117
Experience in a cosmopolitan city with a blend of culture and concrete.
The lights turned red. I didn't see nor care. I had to get home before it grew dark. Almost instantly a huge black car went past, the driver swerving to avoid hitting me. I ploughed ahead, inching my way through.... through all the glares, curses, blaring honks and even some indecent clucking from a man behind. It doesn't bother me anymore. I've been doing this for a long time now. Reaching this state of almost inhuman callousness took years of practice.
~ -------*-------- ~

I was born and brought up in a small and quiet locality in Bangalore. As a child I had a rustic, carefree life: jumping, hopping, cavorting with friends all day and running to mom whenever hungry. With only cycles and two-wheelers passing by, playing on the road wasn't much of a bother... mom and our house-owner (owner-amma had taken a liking to me) always kept an eye out for us though. The main road was completely off-limits. The only time I could get on the main roads was when accompanying mom to work. She supplied milk to people and owner-amma always escorted us because she could remember the list of people to supply to.

It was a delightful experience for me. All those shops with delectable items hanging and people walking around, would get me really excited. Owner-amma always had a hand out, restraining me from jumping onto the road in front of vehicles. We would go from house to house supplying milk. Some were polite and would give me good stuff to eat and would even let their kids play with me. On the way back home, the two would decide to sell off any remaining milk to anybody who'd buy, and so we would wait by the roadside for potential customers.

As I grew up, I noticed mom working less hours. That gave us a chance to go out on long walks by ourselves. We sauntered around, having road-side junk food, visiting relatives, moving in traffic or just plain sitting by the road watching people go by. With just mom around, we would cross roads the moment we got to it (whereas with owner-amma we had to wait until traffic cleared up). This was a bit risky, what with the number of 4-wheeled vehicles on the rise and people getting more and more impatient. I've heard that in other countries pedestrians are given first preference, but not here.. no sir... here we are almost invisible.. like all animals.

One day a bus took a turn suddenly and bore down on me. I jumped out of the way but only ended up in front of a tempo which screeched to a halt. There was honking everywhere, people trying to push us out of the way, abuses and curses. I was terrified. That's when mom taught me the golden traffic rule: Act deaf. It works ... the more excited you become, the more harm you'll cause. So turn a deaf ear, walk slowly and confidently, and no one will harm you... that is... as long as it's daylight.
~ --------*-------- ~

I have to get home early... lots of preparation to be made for tomorrow. My family and all my relatives have been invited to people's homes to bless them. All over the country, though predominantly in South India, this one day of the year we are worshipped like Gods. Multi-coloured beads, tinkling bells, sheaves of corn and flower garlands are tied around our necks. Our horns are painted and our bodies decorated with kum-kum(red ochre) and turmeric. Humans welcome us home..... offer prayers and food. Its a big day for us... this Mattu Pongal.... Festival of Cattle!
© Copyright 2005 Ima Rytah (prathibha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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