The Cow

The Cow
Vehicles driving in both directions on the highway came to a halt for more than two hours after the accident. Nothing moved on one side of the dual-carriage road because the cow lay sprawled across it. On the other side curiosity slowed drivers and although the traffic inched forward, the backflow stretched back miles on the highway. No one could recollect what exactly happened but the general opinion of the crowd gathered there was that the cow had leapt on to the highway into the path of a speeding lorry. The collision tossed the cow motionless on the road. The lorry sped away.
‘Cannot believe lah’, someone said, ‘the cow jumped out of nowhere. One moment it was not there and the next moment, there was this white thing falling on the road. You can’t blame the driver. Can’t blame. No one could have stopped, it all happened so suddenly, so sudden it happen!’
The crowd grew in size. A few of them walked up to the fallen animal to take a closer look to see if the creature lying sprawled on the tarmac was really dead. They kicked it, pulled its tail and prodded its body with sticks to see if it would move. The cow lay still. Others just stood there looking at the beast, fascinated by the bright red trickle of blood that oozed from the cow’s nose.
People came from everywhere, one by one or in groups, some running, some just strolling, taking their time, to see the spectacle on the highway. Mechanics, foundry workers, oil palm harvesters and even workers from the brewery that was surrounded by a high fence, left their work to just stand and gaze at the sight of the gathering crowd and the object of their attraction. Schoolchildren returning home or on their way to tuition lingered on to see the still cow and the gathering crowd. People on the way home returned with their brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, grandmothers and grandfathers who all became part of the growing crowd.
Everyone watched; no one did anything. The gathering crowd did nothing; some looked at the cow, others at the angry drivers in the long row of vehicles as they bellowed their horns, but no one did anything. After a while, resigned to their fate, the drivers switched off their engine and they too joined the crowd watching the cow. The cow, lying across the road with blood trickling from its nose did nothing but just laid there.
After a while a man on a small tractor from one of the oil palm estates appeared unsummoned and moved the cow away from the path of the traffic to the wide grass verge abutting the road. The obstruction removed, the traffic began to move again. One by one, the long queue of vehicles drove slowly past the cow, pausing as they passed to gaze at it like mourners in a state funeral.
By nightfall the police who were delayed in their arrival by the very jam they had come to investigate, finally made it to the scene of the accident. With them came reporters and the people from the television station with spot lights and cameras and other paraphernalia. The evening news at eight would carry an account of the incident on the highway as a local interest story – ‘cars came to a halt for several hours on the main highway leading into the city from the port, when a lorry collided with a cow on the road. It is believed that the cow died, but the driver escaped unhurt.’
The Officer in Charge of the Police District or OCPD as he was commonly known, summoned a police unit to be set up at the point of the accident and for warning lights to be placed along the road. He then ordered the sergeant to inform the District Office that was in charge of the location where the cow had fallen to remove the cow.
The sergeant did as he was told but only got a voice message from the District Office telephone telling him that the office was closed for the day and would open the next day at 8.00 am. sharp and that office hours were from eight in the morning to four in the afternoon but the office will be closed for lunch from 1.00pm to 2pm every day, except Fridays when the lunch hour will be from 12.00 noon to 2.30pm. The unstoppable voice from the phone advised that in the case of an emergency the caller should call the local police station and the number to the station was slowly read before the message ended.
The sergeant informed the OCPD of what he learned about the working hours of the DO. The OCPD look annoyed, thought for a while and then ordered the sergeant to call the office at eight sharp the next morning and have them remove the cow at once. The OCPD then ordered two of his men to stay at the scene to make sure that the traffic flow on the highway was not interrupted.
All night long, two policemen sat under a makeshift tarpaulin tent next to the cow. Whenever the traffic slowed to a crawl or the mosquitoes humming about their heads made it uncomfortable for them to remain seated, one or both of them would pick up a battery-operated baton with flashing red lights to move the slowing traffic along. The cow lay motionless, silently by the road where it had been moved by the man with the small tractor.
*
Thousands of engines burning thousands of gallons of fuel create a roar on the highway every morning that is heard for miles across the oil palm planted valley through which the highway cuts its path. When you first hear it you think of great waves crashing on the shores of an ocean. This is the roar of morning rush of people from the adjoining towns setting out to work in the city and the suburbs of the city. The flow of cars has its source in thousands of homes in little towns and settlements. Long before the first light of day shines, men and women, not yet fully awake, stagger into their cars and drive in the direction of the highway. The unseen force of the working day draws them in the direction of the city and to the places where they work. Others join them as they near the highway which when they reach it is already ablaze with thousands of lights from other cars and vehicles - white light when they approached and red as they crawled away to their various destinations.
If the highway is a river, it is not without its tributaries of smaller rivers - roads that emptied into it from the far reaches of the valley. Each meeting of the small with the main slows down the flow on the main as well as the tributary, backing up cars, lorries and motorcycles miles back into where the roads came from. It was at one of these junctions that the tarpaulin tent stood with the two guardians of the peace keeping vigil over the still cow. Those on the side of the highway where the cow was now lying had been on the other side when they were on their home the previous night. Now, beholding the funereal tent and its incumbents they saw the cause of their delay the previous night. Other freshly washed faces still drowsy from the early start stared from cars and buses without comprehension. Why were the policemen guarding the cow on the road? What could have happened? It was a mystery that they did not have the time to solve. Work waited, all else had to wait.
*
The chief clerk in the municipal office or CC as he was called, was always early to work, arriving well before the commencement time at 8.00am. Before clocking-in, he would have a glass of tea sitting on a plastic stool at a tea stall across the road from his office. As he sipped the hot tea he would observe the other employees coming into work. He knew how each one of them came to work - by car, motorcycle, some dropped off from cars or dislodged from the back of motor cycles and some by bus from the bus stop just outside the district office compound. Seeing a police car parked in the compound of the office in a place that was reserved for the District Officer’s car did not surprise him. The police turned up every now and then for all kinds of reasons; pot holes on the road, accidents along the highway contiguous to the district, rising flood waters - all kinds of reasons. They always met the DO who would later tell him the reason for their visit and any follow-up action that had to be taken.
The CC finished his tea and sauntered into his office. The two policemen looked at him and he raised his hand at them in greeting but said nothing. He knew the DO was on leave and he should have told them so, but since they had not said anything to him, he too decided to say nothing. Instead he walked into his office, punched his card and took his position on a large desk on a raised platform built at one end of the office. From there he had commanding sight over the six clerks and one peon who were his duty to manage. Through the window, he could see the whole of the yard of the district office where an assortment of municipal vehicles were parked. Nothing missed the eye of the CC.
No sooner had the CC settled into his position the peon brought him a large glass of warm water and whispered to him that two policemen were waiting to see him. The policemen approached the CC.
‘Sir, we have been asked by the OCPD to request the district office to remove a dead cow lying by the highway. Sir the cow lying by the road is slowing down traffic and yesterday the jam stretched six miles in both directions.’
The CC asked them where exactly the animal was and when he was sure that it was within the jurisdiction of the District Office, he turned his swivel chair round to reach out for a form from a stack on a shelf behind his seat. He scribbled on part of the form and pushed it to the policemen, ‘Get this signed by the OCPD, have it chopped at the station and bring it back. We can only move the cow after the form is returned but in this case we will clear the cow while you get the paper signed.’
The two policemen surprised that their task was so quickly completed, saluted the CC and marched out of the office, clutching the form. The CC then called in the Mandore and directed him to survey the problem and take a few men to have the cow removed.
The Mandore dispatched to survey the task of removing the cow did not even get off from his motorcycle when he saw where the cow laid. He turned around his bike and rode on the wrong side of the road to reach the junction that led to the district office. He walked straight to the CC’s desk and said in an indifferent tone that the cow was not in the jurisdiction of the District Office.
‘We cannot move. The other District Office has jurisdiction.’
The CC searched his desk for the carbon copy of the plan that the policeman had drawn and realized that the Mandore was strictly right about the cow being outside his jurisdiction but only by only a few yards.
‘The animal is lying only a few yards from our boundary’, he said, ‘surely there is no harm in us moving it?’
‘The cow is lying on the east side of the junction – that part comes under the other District. You can tell them to remove the beast.’

*
It was now well past noon. A full day had passed since the cow went down. A second shift of policemen replaced the one from the previous night. The new shift wore surgical masks across their faces and moved the tent further away from the cow. The blood from the cow’s head had lost its colour and turned black around the cow. A crowd of lies joined the buzz. All but a few vehicles sped past the place without slowing down.
When the OCPD learned that a second detail had been dispatched to the site he shouted for the sergeant who was seated just outside his office. The OCPD’s rage was uncontrollable. He wanted to know who ordered the second shift and why the cow had not been moved.
The Sergeant waited for a pause in the OCPD’s verbal torrent. ‘Sir’, he shouted when he got the chance, ‘Sir, I sent two uniformed policemen to inform the District Office first thing this morning. The District Office said that it would move the cow this morning. An hour ago the CC of the DO said that they could not move the cow because it was located outside the jurisdiction of his office and within that that of the neighbouring district. The OCPD was about to interrupt, but the sergeant raced on, ‘Sir, I am leaving on the Jeep now to get the cow removed, Sir.’
The OCPD had no time to respond because just as he was about to say something, the Desk Corporal who had walked in to the room handed him a small note. The Sergeant took the opportunity to bolt out of the office and into the waiting jeep.
The OCPD read the note and barked, ‘which paper is he from and what does he want?’
The corporal stood at attention averting the eye of the OCPD, saluted and replied, ‘I don’t know Sir, it’s a woman sir!’
Muttering something about the quality of the police force, the OCPD marched to the front of the station. A young woman sitting on a bench for visitors to the station stood up languidly, wedged the hand phone she was talking into between her shoulder and head, slung the handle of her large bag across her other shoulder and approached the OCPD with outstretched hand and a smile across her face. She said something into the phone and let it drop from her shoulder to form a large locket over her white blouse.
“Good Afternoon, Milly Lim, from The Big Paper’ she said. With the other hand she fished out an identity tag and a calling card from the bag.
‘Good Afternoon’, the OCPD replied, ‘how can I help you?’
Milly handed him her card and flashed her tag which showed her picture, her name and the well known initials of the paper she represented.
‘I am here about the cow lying on the 11th Milestone,’ she started, but before she could continue, the OCPD raised his hand to stop her.
‘Wait, wait’, he said shaking his head, ‘since when has The Big Paper become interested in roadkills?’
‘Roadkills’ Milly repeated and jotted something in her notebook. ‘The accident happened more than 24 hours ago and the cow is still lying where it fell. More than 24 hours and it has not been disposed’
‘Not more than 24 hours, about 24 hours.’
‘Sorry, OK, less than 24 hours. But it has been causing massive jams along the highway since the accident.’
‘What jams? No, we are in control. There was a slow down yesterday, but that was yesterday. Traffic is flowing smoothly now. There is no problem whatsoever.’
‘But why has the cow not been moved?’
‘It will be moved in the next few hours.’
‘What is the cause of the delay?’
The OCPD was caught in a situation where he had to blame another department in order get the police off the hook. He ignored the question and simply said, ‘It is being removed.’
‘But it has been lying there for more than 24 hours, sorry for about 24 hours. Surely the police could have moved the cow by now?’
The prospect of the police being criticized in the papers did not appeal to the OCPD.
‘The cow apparently lies at an awkward spot between two municipal districts.’ He paused realizing how silly that sounded.
‘The directions to remove the animal took some time,’ the OCPD said this to the bell on the counter. When he looked up he saw a puzzled smile on the reporter’s face.
Milly giggled, ‘there is confusion as to who should move the carcass of a cow lying on the highway?’
‘No, no, don’t misquote me, I did not say confusion, just a delay.’
Milly was an experienced reporter who knew that the more officials like the OCPD spoke, the more the chances for a good story.
‘OK she said I’ll not say confusion. But do you now know which DO has the jurisdiction?’
‘Yes, of course. We should clear the whole thing by tonight. There is really nothing to write about’
‘But you still don’t know which DO I should approach to get a statement from them?’
‘Look, look,’ the OCPD stuttered, ‘why do you want a statement from the DO? I have given you the full picture, why don’t you just go back and leave it at that?’
‘I need some real pictures. I want to send a photographer with the men who are detailed to remove the cow from the highway.’
The OCPD began to fear the situation getting out of his control. ‘What’s the matter with you people? There’s no story here. Cows die by the hundreds, on the roads and other animals too – dogs, cats, monkeys and even musangs - they die because they don’t know how to cross the road. People also die for the same reason. The Big Paper must cooperate with us. You must educate the people about road safety, not come here and waste our time over a single dead cow.’
Milly was scribbling away on her note book as the OCPD spoke. When he had finished, she asked ‘Do you know how many cows are killed every day on the roads? At least in your jurisdiction? It will be good information to pass on to the readers.’
*
If highways are a complex network of roads to transport goods and people from one place to another, other more complex networks that are not seen or heard connect hundreds of million people at speeds that no vehicles can. The human eye cannot see nor the ear hear the noise of billions of bits of information in sound, words and pictures being flashed across these networks every second until they are delivered to the eye and ear through apparatuses large and small; some so small that they can be carried in pockets and purses so that every individual becomes the immediate neighbor of the other, close enough to whisper or show something instantly, despite the distances that separate them. These networks are also very much like a system of roads. Both are accessible to anyone who wants to use it at any time they choose, accept that there are fewer impediments on the networks than on the highways built of tar and stones.
As Milly was scribbling the notes to make her story for the next day, there were thousands across the country who were writing about the same story and thousands of others reading what they had written even before Milly’s story was even approved for publication in the next day’s paper. Words and pictures on mobile phones of the fallen cow and the delay in moving it were being relayed even as the people relaying them remained stuck on the tarmac, unable to move on the car choked highway.
*
It was the second morning after the cow was immobilized by the lorry on the highway. The lorry had disappeared but the cow still lay on the spot where it was moved by the man on the small tractor. The same number of policemen still sat under the tent. Curiosity abated, the traffic moved more freely than the previous day, but the issue of municipal jurisdiction was still unresolved. Although the first district office was of the view that the cow lay on the territory of the second, the second district office took the view that that the cow had come from the territory of the first. To make matters worse, it was discovered that the right to remove dead creatures from the highway had been contracted out to a private company as part of the privatization policy and the contractor now insisted that the contract gave him the exclusive right to the animal and only he had the right to remove it, but in order for him to remove it he had first be paid for the task.
The OCPD summoned all three parties for a discussion in the special mobile police station that he ordered to the location. There, sitting around the small round table that was fixed to the floor of the mobile unit, the OCPD explained the seriousness of the situation. The highway linked the city to the port. It was vital that the traffic flowed smoothly or commerce will come to a halt. What had happened on the first day when the accident happened cannot be allowed to happen again. The government will not tolerate it, he will not tolerate it. So please, he implored the three men, please, he begged, please have the carcass removed.
The three men, each clutching thick documents, listened carefully to what the OCPD said. Then, one by one each said they would like to help, they understood the importance of the highway, they were patriotic and wanted to see commerce prosper but their hands were tied by the rules in the documents they held. It was not that they did not want to help. They felt that they simply were not in a position to do anything.
The policeman in the OCPD thought that there was enough reason for him to chuck all three of them into the lockup room in the station and deal with the situation himself, but he too was bound by regulations. He looked at the three useless men before him and felt helpless.
*
Midmorning a bus stops on the highway where there are no bus stops. People alight from the vehicle carrying guitars, other small musical instruments and placards. Having disgorged its passengers, the bus leaves before the policemen are on their feet. The passengers form a line and march to where the cow is lying neglected of all attention. They appear to be singing to the strumming of the guitars but the roar of the passing traffic drowns all other sounds. The policemen rise, curious and baffled at the approaching group but do nothing as the group walks past them to where the cow lies. They form a circle around the cow and raise their placards and then turn around to face the highway where the speeding cars are once again slowing down to see the new spectacle around the cow. The placards say things like ‘Be Kind to Animals’, ‘Cruelty to Animals Ends with Cruelty to People’, ‘Man and Animals are all God’s Children’ and ‘Support the Man-Animal Society’.
One of the policemen approaches the group and tells them they have to leave. He is told that they will leave when the cow is given a decent burial. The policeman discusses this with his colleague and together they decide to summon the sergeant from the station.
In the meantime, another group carrying a banner that they are ‘The Cow Worshippers Association of Peninsular Malaysia (CWARP)’ emerges from the palm oil estate beating drums and cymbals and blowing on trumpets. One of the new arrivals approaches the policemen for permission to perform prayers for the cow. The policeman decides to call the Sergeant. The members of CWARP light lamps around the cow, smear it with vermillion and begin to pray in unison. The Man-Animal Society members stay a respectful distance and clap in rhythm to the chants from the prayers.
Other groups, small and large appear to show their solidarity to the fallen cow, some offer prayers but there are others that offer free drinks and meals. By noon, there are more people along both sides of the highway near where the accident took place than the total population of the surrounding settlements. Not only were there the crowds of onlookers and supporters but also hawkers and small traders taking advantage of the market that has sprung around the cow to sell things from motor car parts to pots and pans, not to mention a variety of food.
The traffic on the highway slows to a crawl with drivers slowing down to find out what the fuss is all about. Many of them decide to stop and grab a free vegetarian meal and eat picnic style under the shade of the oil palm trees. If the free vegetable food was not to everyone’s taste, there is the food that the hawkers were selling.
It has become so, that with news being reported at the speed of light, a man watching television in New York is likely to hear and see an event happening in a village in another country thousands of miles away even before the people living in the area where the event happens. In the case of the cow, it was the ambassador to the United Nations who caught a snippet on the incident from the Late Late News who sent out a notification to the foreign office here with a request for more information. The foreign office was completely in the dark over the matter but the mention of demonstrations involving a cow had to be taken seriously and immediately referred the matter to the Home Office.
*
By the afternoon of the second day, the traffic on the highway had stopped moving again. Whether the vehicles were unable to move or were parked on the road to allow the passengers to be part of the event was difficult to tell. The cow had become a shrine of both secular and religious attention, not to mention the pageant that was growing out of it. The cow still remained unmoved, the flies buzzing around it.
In the city a high level meeting is convened to discuss the implications of the cow on the highway. All official actions are suspended until a decision was made at the high level. Traffic was to be diverted. There are suggestions for the permanent diversion of the highway in deference to religious interests. The place could be a tourist site to attract foreign tourists . . .
The cow still lay where it was dragged to by the small tractor from the oil palm plantation. Its white coat was now smeared with vermillion and sandalwood paste. Flowers were scattered around where it lay. Hundreds of small lamps placed around the cow by visitors flickered in the fading light of the evening. The air was filled with the fragrance of flower, incense and camphor. People holding lamps and candles in their hands chanted silently, their singing punctuated by the ringing of small bells.
As all this was going on around the cow, the animal suddenly stirred and raised its head; letting out a long deep moo, it tucked its legs under its body and straightened itself into a crouching position. Silence fell like a guillotine. The chanting stopped. The bells fell silent. The crowd scattered, some fleeing as if they feared for their lives.
Pandemonium.
The cow, kneeling on its fore legs as if in prayers, raised itself to a standing position. It took a long look at the retreating crowd, shook its head as if in disgust and trotted away across the grass verge and leapt across the large drain into the oil palm estate where it disappeared in the dark shadows of the oil palm trees.
‘It was incredible’, someone said. ‘One moment it was lying there and in the next it just leapt away and disappeared. Cannot believe lah, cannot believe.’