Ogden Nash

HAIL a cab in any East coast city in the United States and you can be sure of one of two things: The driver will be a foreigner and loquacious. So the Haitian cabby, who wanted to chat, was not too much of asurprise that Friday morning. I had to go in for a physical at the clinic before I went to work.

"Off to work I suppose. Do you know what day it is?" he inquired. I was more interested in the cartoons in the New Yorker.

"Easter," I ventured. My huge computer corporation had notoriously few official holidays, and what I missed did not even register in my mental counter.

"No that is on Sunday. Today is Good Friday," he said, hoping to impress on me the disgust he felt for the country where it was business as usual on a holy day like this.

"Doesn't matter, I am a Hindu," I mumbled hoping to peruse my weekly in peace. Now his curiosity was really and truly piqued. He had to know more about this religion.

"We do not eat beef. Our cows are holy," I said, hoping to keep this very short and simple.

"What do you do with them dead cows?" he continued. I had never thought about this. The tanneries could obviously use the hide but about the fate of the rest of it, I must admit I did not have a clue. My surmises were nothing I cared to discuss with him anyway.

"What about the dead then?" he went on. "They burn them. Saves space," I offered.

"Ah, then they must be burning cows too. Must smell delicious, yeah." He smacked his lips at the idea of roast beef cooked on a slow, wood fire. Obviously, I had utterly failed to convey to him the divine regard we feel for the bovine populace which freely roams the streets of India. I escaped into the pages of the magazine as he paused to give directions to a blonde in the convertible at the next stop signal.

A panic that began in Paris about the Mad Cow fever several weeks ago has now spread throughout Europe like an epidemic. It suddenly makes not eating beef seem like a brilliant idea. Let us call the fatal disease by its real name: Bovine spongiform encephalopathy. Not much is known about the actual cause, but scientists have a theory that cattle contracted the disease by eating feed made with tissue from sheep infected with a related neurological ailment. It is caused by aberrant proteins, which riddle the brain with spongy holes.

When hunter-gatherers settled down to cultivate and keep farm animals near their dwelling areas, civilisation got off to a flying start. To be domesticated for food the mammals had to be predominantly herbivorous. They had to lend themselves to herding and could not be solitary creatures, like cats. Also they had to be able to breed fairly quickly even in captivity. Paintings depict Mughal emperors with cheetahs by their side. They could be tamedand would have served as excellent hunting partners, but they could never mate except in the wild, far away from prying eyes.

The herd mentality also meant that the animals would never dart away at phenomenal speeds like frightened antelope.

They relied on their strength in numbers and were better tempered, most often. During the mating season they could get territorial and quarrelsome. Dr. Jared Diamond, author of the recent bestseller Guns, Germs and Steel, lists these crucial factors as the Anna Karenina principle which decides whether humans can hope for domesticated harmony with these mammals. If even one of these fail, the marriage simply does not work. The ruminating cow made a perfect candidate on all counts.

The relationship had soured at this late stage because of the incredible greed of humans. What is the ethical justification for feeding cows with ground bones? There is certainly enough fodder for cattle in wealthy countries.

Apparently, this practice of feeding animal parts to farm animals has been happening since World War II.

The pedestrian cows in India have always had a lean and hungry look from eating out of garbage dumps and nibbling at cinema posters, but the milch cows look a well nourished lot. They seem to be thriving on the punnakku and parrutikottai and occasional treats on Mattu Pongal day.

They are not exactly bursting at their would-be-leather seams with steroid-induced bulk but are definitely healthier on account of their vegetarian diet.

It is now time for India to use its know-how and flood the world with superior fodder. Veterinary dieticians could find out if soyabean protein would enrich the usual non-fat oil cakes, cut- grass, and research all supplements which would make a well- balanced meal for the hungry herds of the world. Cow chow is a marketable idea if packaged well. It is not about making hay, it is about sealing in its goodness in attractive flat sacks. Another thing is to look at the idea of making concentrates of thirst quenchers for their parched throats.

The regular nutrition schools could focus on desi cuisine to give it a global edge in an organic world. When the last Jewish butcher moved away from the settlement at Mattanchery in Kochi, the remaining inhabitants gave up meat, because they could not eat non-kosher food. The beef eaters may turn away from all animal products and turn vegean with a vengeance. What better time to woo the world with delectable vegetarian recipes from every part of the country?

The Vedas had it right all along. Our cattle hold the key to national wealth. Only, they were talking in the parlance of financial consultants and really meant ideas to generate Cash Cows.

A lot was, unfortunately, lost in translation from a dead language.

The writer is a consultant in Cambridge, U.S., and freelances for India Abroad.