The brown cow always caused a commotion as it tried to turn around to avoid falling into the foul smelling pool of water. It would have been spooked by the waves of terror emanating from the animals ahead. However, such dissent would not be allowed since every Saturday morning, each cow had to be immersed inside the communal water dip. The government agricultural officer himself had elucidated that this practice got rid of all insects that caused animal diseases. And for that reason, the village crier reminded everyone of this important exercise on the night before.

The cows were all herded into a wide pen before being led through a narrow walkway. They were then forced to jump into the pool, one after the other. Each jump caused a huge splash that reverberated between the walls of the narrow pool of soiled water. With much prodding with sticks and merciless yanking of the tail by the pool attendants, the brown cow would awkwardly make its own huge splash.

On emerging from the pool, the brown cow would scale up the steep ramp with uncertain steps – cumbersomely high like those of a praying mantis. Finally, it would stand for a while, dazed by the morning swim. And the brown water with an unfamiliar hospital smell would trickle down its soaked hide.

The boy knew that the brown cow liked to be gently caressed on the tender part of the neck. And so, the small hand moved up and down…up and down…up and down. And the blind brown cow stood at rapt attention with ears cocked — as if by listening harder, the sense of touch would increase and compensate for the lack of sight.

The soiled water trickled down the arm of the boy to branch off at the crook of the elbow and fall onto the ground. With each soothing stroke, the nervous trembling of the tense muscles under the brown skin died down. And the boy whispered quietly to the cow, “I wish there was something I could do, but the government agricultural officer himself said that all the cows have to jump inside the pit every Saturday.”