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Hi, this is somebody who has taken the quieter by-lane to be happy. The hustle and bustle of the big, booming main street was too intimidating. Passing through the quieter by-lane I intend to reach a solitary path, laid out just for me, to reach my destiny, to be happy primarily, and enjoy the fruits of being happy. (www.sandeepdahiya.com)

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

Fresh milk in a farmer's house

 

A buffalo’s mating call is melodious to a farmer’s ears. It brings the prospects of fresh milk to the family. At the slightest hint, the family patriarch runs to hire the mating services of a mater (either a public bull like earlier or a farmer’s domesticated bull presently). The males, as usual, are ready yearlong with their ever-active passion.

It’s the females who decide when the male luck will strike gold. Then sometimes there are false alarms. Maybe the farmer misread the female cattle’s braying, grunts and moans. Maybe it doesn’t like the husband presented to her to be the father of her calf. The situation turns tricky when she kicks and gallops to deny the water-mouthed bull any chance. The farmer gets irritated. They whistle. They try to get them into proper mood. The buffalo is tamed into immobility by tying her with ropes. I have seen farmers holding the bull’s pizzle to facilitate a forced entry. And many such forced adventures turn out to be fruitless. And then the bull gets a bad name. The aggrieved farmer, having paid for the seedless adventure, casts aspersion on the mater buffalo. ‘The bull is worthless, not fit for siring calves anymore,’ he taunts. To this the owner of the bull cringes with such pain as if he himself has been called impotent and sterile.

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