Baa-thos

(This post is dedicated to my brother-in-law)

Babu, made a friend yesterday in the market-place. When he asked to be introduced, the butcher laughed and said that his goat didn't have a name, but if Babu wished he could call him Bakra.

Bakra had been carefully fed and fattened and today was going to be his day of liberation. Somehow looking at the wise eyes of the meaty goat, Babu felt a deep sense of the world and it's ways. He looked at the butcher and asked "How do you find it in your heart to cut up the friend you fed and brought up with your own hands?" The butcher was like many people I often witness, who think you've made a joke when you've asked a question. He and his skinny assistant looked at each other and laughed. Babu sat sometime near the goat, then got up and asked the butcher if he could take Bakra for a walk.

The butcher's magnificent paunch and the assistants intrusive adam's apple bobbed up and down in mirth, as the butcher agreed to the proposition. Babu untied Bakra and said "Come". Bakra stood rooted. Babu gently tugged at his tether, Bakra's wise eyes seemed like they masked a not so intense intelligence or a great acceptance of one's destiny; one couldn't judge in a hurry. "Hurra Hurra", said Babu. And finally it was that call which usually moves buffaloes that seemed to strike a chord with Bakra, and he bleated a little, and strode forward gently.

Babu and Bakra walked hand-in-rope across the mountains of green chillies, succulent tomatoes and fragrant corriander; past the voluptuous vegetable vendors who broke out in song, touched by the sight which filled their eyes:

"Babu had a fat lamb, fat lamb, fat lamb
Babu had a fat lamb
Who's fleece was black and muddy.
Everywhere that Babu went, Babu went, Babu went
Everywhere that Babu went
Bakra followed like a chaddie-buddy"

In step with the beat of the song, Babu led the way, with Bakra sagely following, savouring the smells of his last walk around the world. Bakra bleated and lovingly butted the kind soul who was leading him. Babu turned around and said "O you poor thing, hold on". Babu stepped to the bakery at the corner and bought a bottle of mineral water. He walked to Bakra and un-screwed the cap and held it to his mouth. Bakra in all his eagerness almost chewed the entire bottle away. There they sat, two friends, not needing any words to bridge the silence they shared.

It was time for Bakra to be taken back. Babu tied him to the post and as he turned to leave, the butcher came up to him and said "I don't think I'll do any business today, my knife seems to have rusted suddenly", and he hesitated, as if to say something else, but he just smiled and lightly touched Babu on his shoulder and went away.

Babu went home but I think it will be a long time till he goes back to the market. He doesn't want to know his friend's fate yet. Until then his wife will be the one who will have to buy the vegetables.