My dear cow did not return that evening,
Its presence was not felt; its sounds, unheard,
For it, its shed, peg and grass were waiting;
I became dumb; my mouth uttered no word,
My mind recalled the thief to have stolen;
Two cows were with him eating grass in hand;
They lodged complaints to police, forgotten;
The same thief to steal my cow to his land,
Once struck in floods, my eyes welled with tears,
To my fortune, it returned safe in smiles,
The incident is fresh; so my mind bears;
It came back; we worship it all the miles;
My mother cow grazed on the grassy mound,
Came back home daily, here before sunset,
My family was in shock, still like ground,
We looked at the gate with the same mindset,
In deep feelings, our minds saw our dear cow:
White in color as per our cherished dream,
My dear cow, that all love is unseen now,
Grazed on the banks; drank water in the stream;
As companions, near you, are lambs and sheep;
Goats with their kids are among shrubs around,
In your absence, all flocks' feelings are deep,
In the flock, you are the whitest on ground;
You approach me; I rub your soft dewlap,
You come to us; we enjoy your full sight,
In the present, at your sight in joy-clap,
Our gates are open for you in delight;
You are special for your milk is special;
Whiter in looks to see us from the flock
For our great strength, your milk is essential
Until your safe return; of you, we talk,
You innocently believed in the thief
Like a baby to like sweets for kidnap;
Kick the thief or you are on sale for beef;
We love you; we grow your calves in our lap,
We, especially children love your milk,
Sometime, we have your ghee, never later,
We can't have your milk except buttermilk;
You guess our children will be hereafter.
Dear, we can't bear your absence any more,
How can you bear, forgetting us in tears?
Well, we love you; you love us to the core;
You are my mother; my dear of all dears,
Today you are not here, with the thief there;
Cocks and hens, goats and sheep in my village,
All are in woes and throes in faces here;
The thief's theft to our uncontrolled outrage;
You are pregnant with baby-calves in womb;
They are two, Sita and Gita; I call.
I search for you, all the places I comb,
If not, your twins I regain, my wish all.
Published
METVERSE MUSE
Triple Issue Nos. 64 to 66.
September 2021
