It was a double take that in reality turned out not to be one. I was enjoying the refreshed feeling of someone who is on there way home from work today. It can also be called a second wind if you would like. The terminology is not really relevant. Let’s just say I was feeling good. Happy to be jammed into a little nook on the public rickshaw. It’s a constant reminder of my commute in New York on my way to work or school. You really don’t have enough room, but for some reason everyone fits. It takes a few minutes, but you find that perfect lean where you become comfortable. It’s a feeling of familiarity.
As if I would look out the J train going over the Williamsburg Bridge I look out of the hole cut into the rickshaw. I watch bikes squeeze between us and another car, people walking on the street and for a brief window of fifteen seconds a postcard view of Fateh Sagar lake. This description of my day and New York honestly does not have anything to do the rest of my story. It is just a nice thing. The daydreams where you are not fully conscience, but you get off at the right stop.
Anyways, we were whipping our way through traffic. By-passing normal stops due to a full load. I was relieved. It was a continuation of refreshed feeling. I was comfortably wedge between the hole side and an elegantly smelling woman. Couldn’t ask for more, trust me. My head was like that of a typewriter. It would slowly tick away to one side and then when you reached the end of the theoretical rail it shot back into place. I continually did this in the midst of my daydreams. Towards the end of my typewriter’s rail I saw a cow, which I felt was looking directly at me. My sister’s boyfriend once described how beautiful cows eyes are. At this moment I heard his voice say it and it clicked. This guy knows something.
My bell rang and my head was placed back in its starting point. It was at this moment that I saw the eyes of a baby sitting directly across from me. I had not noticed her before. The mother and baby got in right before me. I did not bother to look. Yet, at this moment the baby’s eyes looked directly at me. It felt as if they were sincerely looking at me. I saw innocence, curiosity and fluidity.
This moment happened in seconds. This was a glance while my head was resetting on the original spot. I stopped and reset my head. I looked at the baby again. I knew I had seen those eyes before. I gazed, yes a little creepy I know, into the baby’s eyes. They were not the same eyes I had seen just before. I continued to type on my theoretical typewriter. We passed another cow and I realized where the eyes had been. The baby’s eyes were the same of a cow.
The eyes held a sense of wonderment. The baby’s eyes were not calloused by years of reality. Everything is new and wonderful. It does not matter if a negative action occurs to her. The mind has not fully developed to process that a wrong has been done. The baby just sat there looking around the tempo or outside. She did as she pleased. There was no methodology about her.
The cows carry with them the same persona. They float down the streets. Not rushed or bothered by anyone or anything. They always seem to be above the confines of humanity. I am not sure if that’s due to them being sacred here or just in general. I have seen cows in the pastures of Western New York. They graze the fields with the same sense of no destination; “I just felt like going this way.”
This is my new take on the sacred cow if India. They are wondering babies outside the structured, institutionally driven lives of humans. Yet, just like babies they rely on the nourishment and love of humans to continue living. For babies they grow up and learn to think and recognize. Cows get to stay in the state of constant curiosity and flow at their own will. Damn I could go for a steak…