Growing up in Kanpur-2 Mr. Bhadauriya and his mad cow

Behind House no 8 in Laxmi Rattan Cotton Mills Officers colony in Kanpur where we lived was a sprawling compound owned by an interesting gentleman named Mr. Bhadauriya. A portly man with an impressive moustache and many rings on his fingers, Mr. B was also the head of security at the Mills. In his compound he grew vegetables, fruits and even had a shed for his cow.

I remember making trips to his farm with my father on many misty (these trips must have been made either during winter vacations or during summer vacations) mornings.

We would go across to check the yield of vegetables and fruits. Seeing seeds turn into saplings into a Bhindi or Baingan plant must have been quite fascinating. Picking fresh green chillies or coriander and mint leaves for chutney and raita was a wonderful routine for us.

Mr. Bhadauriya was as dreaded for his moustache as he was for the cow he had in his shed.  Mr. B’s cow was ill-mannered, uncouth and quite mad. She probably suffered our early morning trips to her area only because on some of those occasions she had seen Mr. B accompany us.

During the morning trips she would tolerate us and be on her best of behavior. But God forbid if we dared enter the compound at any other time.

It was a sunny winter afternoon during one winter break when we decided to fly kites on our terrace. Our cousin Babloo da was at the helm and he was assisted ably by Mini di, my eldest sister. My other sister, Nini along with our younger cousin Bunty da was given the task to fetch any kites Babloo da knocked down.  Since I was too small and insignificant, I was not actively included in any of their games. I would just amble about, observe and try to get their attention.

Being quite an expert kite flyer, Babloo da conquered several kites. We could see one of those glide towards the Mr B’s compound. Bunty da and Nini di were instructed to recover it before somebody else laid a claim to it. The two ran down the steps, across the courtyard towards the farm. They scampered all over the farm, eyes glued to the floating kite, trying to judge which way the kite would fall. Mr B’s cow did not like that at all. She jumped high up and snorted loudly. Not content with the effect this display of displeasure had on the two intruders, she furiously kicked a cloud of dust. Oblivious to the warnings, the two kids greedily waited to hunt down more kites.

Instead of the kites, they soon saw the cow charging towards them. How they ran that day! From the terrace, I could sense their fear and the cow’s anger! And I could also hear Nini scream, “Mummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy! “