“Bhai koto nise ?”
I turned around at the rickshaw going past us. I’ve stopped counting how many times people have asked that. People in the cities are apparently very curious. It wasn’t like this where I lived. I would stand and walk and poop and do my daily activities and nobody would even bat an eye. But here, everywhere people are staring at me. Am I some celebrity now? Have they never seen a cow? I admit, I am rather easy on the eyes with my red leather and shiny eyes, but don’t they know it’s rude to stare?
I’ve been walking for a while now. Sure I may have gotten a little bulky the last few days, but that’s only because master was feeding me too much, now, I may be naive but I’m not stupid enough to turn down food.
Mokhless liked my curves. He thought they were sexy. I wasn’t like the typical blonde beauty; I was and still am a sassy red head. Mokhless was the hotshot. We grew up together since we were little calves. Bulbuli and the others had an eye on him, but we were meant to be. Inseparable till the end. I wonder what he’s doing now. My precious Moo. He is such a sweetheart.
“Ei Lalu, beshi genjam korish na, gate er bhitore dhuk !” the man shouted.
What the hell? Do I look like a Lalu to you? I am a pure Sokhina. I can’t believe you would give me such a generic name just because I’m red and pretty. Humans are such dumb creatures. No fashion sense, they wear weird stuff. And the females. Oh lord. Painting their eyes with black ink and wrapping weird things around their bodies. I really don’t get humans sometimes.
I entered through the gate and they gave me more food. Why is everyone so keen on making me fat? What’s the point if Mokhless isn’t even here to see me? As the night draws in, I sit down and wonder what waits. Mostly wonder what Mokhless is doing. I think this is what love feels like. We haven’t ever been apart before you see. But master told us he was making us big and fat to sell us to the city folks. Master was a good guy and I don’t mind walking a few miles, even though I don’t really get what the city folks would want with us. But if Mokhless was with me, I wouldn’t be this lonely.
I stare at the stars above, only failing and my vision being stopped by a ceiling. What kind of lives do these people live? Locked up in little boxes with not a hint of grass in sight. Sigh. I feel bad for them sometimes. Ever since we were young, we’ve heard stories of these boxes stacked side by side. We’ve grown up fantasizing one day coming to the cities and living a rich and happy life. Our lives were black and white. We wondered what color felt like. They said this is where the lucky ones end up. I’m one of them. I wonder what awaits me. Only the new sunrise will tell.
Maybe the grass is greener on the other side.