Making of a Hemmudi.

 A couple of years back, I had visited Lalita’s mothers home – Lalita is my help who works on the farm as well as helps me in the house work.  In the front yard of their home I had noticed a beautiful structure made of hay.

 Intrigued, I had asked about it and they had explained that it was made by her brother Nagraj to store their harvest of rice paddy in it.  It is a traditional form of storing paddy and very few people make it now a days.  It seemed to be dying art.  I was keen on seeing how it is made and I asked her to inform me the next time her brother would make it.  ‘Oh it is made only once a year’ she said. ‘Doesn’t matter, let me know next year’ I told her.  

But as luck would have it, in spite of her informing me, we were unable to go and 3 years passed before we got a chance to see it actually being made.

So this year when Lalita informed me  that her brother was planning to make the Hemmudi a few days later, we decided to keep that day free.  He was to start at 2 pm after lunch, so we planned accordingly and went to their home.

Their front yard was spruced up and made spotlessly clean and a fresh layer of cowdung had been smeared on it.  Cow dung is a natural anti-microbial and has insect repelling properties – so is it any wonder that the traditional method of  layering the front yard with cowdung instead of cement  is still so popular in the villages? 

A spot was chosen and Nagaraj’s mother drew a Rangoli design with quick strokes.  Then bunches of hay were laid out systematically with the cut ends in the centre and the other end fanning out to make a large circle.  Once the first circle was complete, a second concentric, slightly smaller one was made on top of it and then another until innermost circle completely covered the ground. 

 All along Lalita’s young kids aged 8 and 11 scurried around bringing  bunches of hay from the stack that was a little distance away.  Soon the enormous circle of hay was ready.  A large plastic sheet was placed  in the centre to prevent grains from slipping thru the hay and also to prevent any moisture from seeping in, in case of any unseasonal rain.  Then Nagaraj lifted a large basket into which some paddy had been poured from  one of the sacks of rice lined up against the wall of the house.  He said a prayer and then emptied the first lot of paddy onto the sheet. 

His college going nephew joined in along with a neighbour to help lift the sacks and bring them to Nagaraj. He would tip each one and  flatten the mound  carefully within the circle.  After a sizeable mound was created, then the sides had to be raised.  The hay was bent upwards and a thick rope was wound around the base of the Hemmudi.  

Now the whole thing looked like a large grass tub filled with paddy.  Now the next layer of the Hemmudi wall had to be built.  The kids pitched in carrying the hay to Nagaraj who carefully placed each bunch vertically supported on the outside by the ring of hay and on the inside by the paddy.

  The ring was completed, secured with ropes and then the piling in of the paddy resumed.  So layer by layer, the Hemmudi was constructed, finally holding close to 30 quintals of paddy. 

 As the last circle of hay was being placed, Lalita’s nephew expertly  prepared a metal ring with ropes hanging around the sides, that was to go on top of the Hemmudi to secure the top in place. 

The 2 kids ran around busily bringing the hay bunches and passing them to Nagaraj who was on the top of the Hemmudi which was now almost 9 feet in height.  He covered the top with a generous layer of hay, then a plastic sheet was placed on top, followed by the ring.  The ropes hanging from the ring were securely fastened down to the sides of the Hemmudi.

  In the meantime, the youngsters had fetched some clayey mud and were busy mixing it with water to make a thick paste.  This was piled around the base and plastered into place with their hands to make a perfect seal.  

The ladies busied themselves cleaning out the remnants of the fallen hay, folding the emptied sacks neatly and sprucing up the place  and bringing in bunches of mango leaves and flowers for the Pooja. 

**

The Hemmudi is now finally completed, decorated with flowers and leaves.  Nagaraj’s mother brings out a platter with an oil lamp, flowers. Coconut and agarbattis.  He performs a small Pooja of the Hemmudi and then it is time for them to relax.  A feast of Chicken curry and rice has been prepared by the mother and they all troop into the house for an early dinner.  They insist on us joining them too, but it is just 6.30 pm, a bit too early for us.  So they pack  some for us to take home.  We leave for home,  happy to have been able to see the making of the Hemmudi.

And Vivek had clicked a whole bunch of videos and compiled this, click to see the video.

 

 

Have you ever hugged a tree?

 

Have you ever hugged a tree,

An ancient one,

Felt its heartbeat,

Through the wizened bark,

Heard the soft murmur

Of its leaves

Through the wizened bark

Heard tales of yore

Of a time when

It had scores of others

Around

Standing shoulder to shoulder,

Their leaves brushing one another

In the ancient rippling breeze,

And then it stood still

Watching the others

brought down

One by one,

Making way for something

Or the other

That man felt

Was more important

Than this gnarled old tree…..

Have you ever hugged a tree

And listened to its sorrow

Through the wizened bark?

Have you ever hugged a tree?

And then sometimes you just get lucky!!!

 Lucky enough to be able to see Raja Ravi Verma’s Paintings in a distant city which you are visiting for just a day on work!

The year was 2009, even before we moved to the farm.  Our office work involved quite a bit of travelling.  Vivek being the seasoned traveller, always looked for flights that would minimise our time out of Mumbai, and me being the dreamer, always wanted to linger on a day or two extra and take in the sights of the cities hitherto unseen.  So when we were called upon for a meeting  in Trivandrum – Thiruvananthpuram – I jumped at the chance.  Thiruvananthapuram -  such a grand name for the capital city of Kerala – I was born in Kerala (Calicut) and hence always have a special longing to visit this state .

Now what else could we possible do in Trivandrum – ………….? 

 Visit the museum which houses the paintings of Raja Ravi Varma of course!  We could not travel all the way there and not see the paintings – that would be terrible. So I did all the research and found out all the details about the place- location, timings etc and dreamt about  spending an entire  day there.

  Ah,   but Vivek had other plans – Our meeting was scheduled for 11 am – we had a very convenient flight which would land there by 8.30 and a return flight at around 7 pm.  We need not even stay overnight he explained, while I had the most disappointed look on my face.

 But...but...Raja Ravi Varma’s paintings...I wailed!  But the flight bookings were already done.  “Don’t worry”, Vivek consoled me,  “I’m sure the meeting won’t take long - as soon as we are done, we  can go  spend all afternoon at the museum and then go directly to the airport” he said.  Meetings  getting over quickly.......I might as well sail to the moon and back....hmmmmpf!!!

All along in the flight, my thoughts were on only one thing – the museum.  Only if we finish our meeting by 1.30, we could rush to the museum .... but invariably, there would be lunch served and the prolonged discussions.   So I put away all thoughts of visiting the museum and got down to concentrating on my work.

We  hired a car for the day and as we drove out of the airport we could see people putting up flags and barricades along the roads.  When we asked, the driver informed us that there was a huge morcha/rally  in the evening and probably a lot of roads would be blocked and traffic would be diverted.  The chances of visiting the museum seemed indeed very bleak.

We reached the department at 10 am, a whole hour earlier, but  it would be better to wait there rather than some place outside.  We sat in the reception area and I got my laptop out and resumed my work  while Vivek got talking to some person who was enquiring about  our reason for being there.  There seemed so be some serious language issue and some confusion. I could hear  ‘No Meeting – …….. Sir is on leave’  

Well, well,  this kind of sounded preposterous – after having travelled all the way from Mumbai on a date and time that was conveyed to us a fortnight in advance!  The person having realised the gravity of the situation, reluctantly phoned his boss whom we had travelled to meet.  A lot of head nodding and a one sided conversation which we could not follow, the person finally turned to us and said ‘Meeting postponed to 2 pm’   

Well, well,well.......that  really sealed off any chance of visiting the museum....unless....unless ...we go right away. 

“Yes?”  I asked Vivek. 

“How far is it?”  I rattled off the exact kms – I had it down pat. 

“We’ll be back for the meeting”  he said to the person at the counter and out we rushed to the cab.  The driver not expecting us to come out so soon had wandered off , but came back as soon as we called him. He was confident that we could go to the museum and get back before 2 pm as the rally was not expected to start before 4 pm.  It was a bit risky,  but then off we went.  Half an hour later we were at the entrance of the Trivandrum Zoo. Yes the Sree Chithra Art Gallery is within the premises of the zoo.  We quickly got our tickets and went into the quaint museum.

Pic taken from the Internet  

The museum was inaugurated in 1935 by the then Maharaja of Travancore Sri Chithira Thirunal.  A beautiful bungalow built in the traditional Kerala style of architecture with sloping tile roof and polished red floor.  The masterpieces adorned the walls and I could just not have enough of looking at them.

Pic taken from the Internet  

 Two and half hours can scarcely do justice to a museum,  but still it was totally worth it. Soaked in the sight of some really marvellous Raja Ravi Varma originals and then it was time to get back to work.  We scarcely had time for a lunch so grabbed a snack at a tea stall and reached just in time for the meeting.  This time, everything was different.  The Head of the Department had arrived and a whole team was present and the meeting went off well. 

Back in the cab on the way to the airport, the diversions and road blocks made it seem that we would not reach the airport in time.  But the taxi driver sure knew the roads well and cut across through some non-existant road and got us out of the city onto a newly constructed  - or rather under construction road and raced to the airport – just in time for our return flight to Mumbai.  I leaned back into my seat my head still filled with visions of those paintings.......Just this morning I was doubtful whether I would get to see them, and in spite of all the seeming hurdles, we had still managed to visit the museum.

Sometimes, you do get lucky!

Pic taken from the Internet  

Homes without doors!

 Our farmer friend Sonnu is by now used to our requests to take us to some relatively unknown portions of this beautiful land.  He has taken us to a Village called Hudil, yet another remote village to see Jaggery being made,  Abre whose claim to fame is the Medicine man and so on.

Recently we made yet another request to him – take us to a place where we can trek  up a hill we said.  And he happily agreed.  This time he suggested  a place called Uttara Koppa.  So on the appointed day, he came with Jaiman– the lad whose village we had visited to see jaggery being made. 

We set off in our car and a little before  Murudeshwar we turned  off the highway to travel into the interiors.  The road was – as usual – beautiful, the scenery as captivating as ever and soon  the village homes with the areca plantations gave way to dense forests on either side.  Every now and then we would see one or two homes scattered far – It is amazing how these people live so far from all the amenities  that we city people are so used to!  We surround ourselves with shops, malls, bus-stops and railway stations.  Every  advertisement for new homes in the city newspapers screams out how close everything is- 5 min walk to  xyz  Station, 2 mins from abc  Mall and so on……and not to mention a ‘Stones throw from the great Big Hosptial’ too!!!

Well here the nearest shop would be easily 15 to 20 kms away.  Are the people ever worried about running out of stuff – never.  Their homes are easily the sparsest that I have ever seen. 

So after a very pleasant ride, we reached a dead end, where we parked the car and set off walking into the forest with Sonnu leading the way. It was a beautiful walk, the silence of the forest, the ocassional call of birds, a few gurgling brooks and a small waterfall – an ambience to soak in and carry back home in your heart!

It was uphill most of the way and after about an hours trek we reached a flat level land which had a well maintained Areca plantation.  It was a surprise to see it in such a remote location.  We asked Sonnu about it and he said there are a couple of homes here and the plantations belong to those farmers.  And sure enough a little further we came upon the unmistakable signs of a village home.  A few dogs started barking to announce our arrival, a cock crowed loudly and we came upon a  mud house  with a small vegetable patch outside and a couple of coconut trees around it. 

The house seemed empty.  It had a little sheltered porch with a whole lot of hens and tiny chicks running all over the place.  The house was open, there was no door at all!   Sonnu stopped and started looking around for something – and soon spotted it -  a Sickle.  He picked it up and started towards the coconut tree.  We had a conversation like this

Me :What are you doing? 

S :  Plucking some tender coconut for you’ll. 

Me : Oh please don’t bother….and besides there is no one in the house,  won’t the owner mind?

S : Oh no he is my friend.  He must be somewhere around,  He will be back any moment.

Me : Is this the end of the trek or are we walking some more?

S :  Yes we could walk further up for a while and then return.

Me : Ok then maybe your friend will be back by the time we return and maybe he will make us some tea, I joked  - more to prevent him from plucking 2 precious tender coconuts than for the consideration of having tea!   So please don’t pluck any tender coconuts for us. 

He agreed and we set off again on the path.  Rough, uneven and uphill.  Giant towering trees, the kinds we had never seen before.  

A relatively rare fruit - White Kokum as the locals call it - Garcinia cambogia

And then another clearing and another small house.  This one too without a door.  But yes it had a bright coloured curtain and I could not resist getting a pic clicked on the doorstep.

 Finally we reached the end of the traversed path and it was time to turn back.  We reached the home of Sonnu’s friend, but he had not yet returned.  Just then there was a sudden downpour.  When it rains in these regions, it really pours!  We stood in the shelter of the porch and watched the front yard turn to slush. 

There was no point in trying to continue in the down pour and we decided to wait it out.  The chicks and the mother hen all scurried into the porch for shelter.  Sonnu went  into the house.  We could hear him rummaging around and went in to see.  He had already lit a small wood fire in the ‘choolah’ and kept a small vessel of water to boil.  He had taken my jestful mention of tea very seriously and was looking around in the dark kitchen for tea leaves!  He found it in a small tin in a a dark corner of the mud floor  next to another small tin of sugar. He found 4 steel pails and poured out the decoction.  Sweet black tea!  How refreshing.  We watched the rain sipping the tea.  

The neatly woven coconut frond sheltered us from the rain.

And then just as suddenly as it had started, the rain stopped, and the sky cleared up.  Time to leave.  We put on our shoes and just then the owner of the house returned.  At first he saw just Vivek and me as the others were sitting inside the house and I guess he was startled to see 2  strangers sitting on his porch.  Just then Sonnu came out and his face broke into a relieved smile.   We thanked him for his in-absentia hospitality and continued our down-hill trek.  The water fall which was a small one on the way up was now gushing mightily.  We refilled our bottles with the deliciously chill water and returned home.

What an amazing trek it was!

 

Hayyyyyyyyyyyy!

 

Hayyyyyyyyyyyyy………..Neelay Gagan ke Taley…..Dharti ka pyar Paley…..

 

Crooned Mahendra Kapoor in his mellifluous voice  in the 1967 movie Humraaz while Raj Kumar and his lady love struck poses against the backdrop of mountains in colour co-ordinated attire!

Amazingly blue skies  - a welcome sight after months of overcast skies and relentless rains!

I can’t help humming this song as we return back from our Hay collecting expedition.  Every year as soon as the farmers in the surrounding areas  finish harvesting their rice, they look for buyers for their Hay.  Often they get more money for the hay than they get for the rice itself – yes each precious bundle  of hay locally called a Kaat -  that is just thick enough to wrap both your hands around it costs anything between Rs. 8 and  12, depending on the variety of Rice and the quality of Hay.  You see the Red rice  that most farmers grow has shorter hay than the generic white variety.  So the longer hay amounts to more volume hence commands a higher price.  The quality depends on whether the Rain Gods showered the harvested Windrows (Rows of freshly cut Rice which is left out to dry in the fields) and  did not allow the Sun God to dry them out, or whether the Sun God won and helped the poor farmers to salvage their hay!

A Kaat of Hay

Our own hay from our half acre of paddy field is not sufficient to last the whole year for our bovine family.  So after we are done with collecting the hay from our own field and stacking it up, we have to make a couple of visits to neighbouring farms to collect hay from there.

Collecting the hay from our field.

This year, in addition to our pick-up,  we decided to hire a larger vehicle so that the entire lot could be brought in one trip. 

  Loading the bundles onto the vehicle is quite an art and probably an exacting science as well.  You see the Centre of Gravity of the loaded vehicle must be well within its Base of Support or else it may tipple over on the narrow bumpy village roads.  Besides the circumference of the mound of hay on the vehicle should not be far more than the perimeter of the vehicle, else it is difficult to manoever the vehicle when you meet an oncoming vehicle on the road.  And if the oncoming vehicle is also loaded with hay, then ….probably time to burst into another song again!

Some of the overloaded vehicles that we see on the roads!!!

The hay is loaded with one person standing on top of the vehicle and one or more on top of the hay stack.  If it is possible to get the vehicle close enough to the hay stack, then the person from the hay stack can hurl the hay directly onto the vehicle.  The stacking up has to be done carefully else the entire load can slide and collapse during the process.  Our farm hand is good with this and he stands on top of the ever increasing mound expertly catching and arranging the bundles thrown to him. 

  It takes a good hour and half to load all the hay onto the vehicles. Once the loading is done, a long thick rope is wound around the stack and under the special hooks on the sides of the vehicle of the vehicle to secure it in place. 

  Then a slow bumpy ride back to the farm.  The tempo driver is in a hurry as he has another customer who is waiting for him so he wants his vehicle to be  off loaded quickly.  .  It  will take too much  time to cart the hay to the attic above the cow shed so we off load the hay in our drive-way and  relieve  the  vehicle.   The distance from the driveway to the cow shed is not much, but it is uneven due to the heavy rain which has washed away the soil leaving stones, pebbles and rubble on the path. And one has to carry the hay up a ladder to reach the attic above the cow shed.  We are going to need 2 more people to help with this.  It is close to noon now, so we take a break and decide to call 2 additional helpers in the afternoon.  The 2 young boys come in at around 2 pm.  The bunches of hay are tied into lots that can be carried by the boys and they work like a relay carrying the load upto the top of the ladder where our farm hand is waiting to haul it up and stack it neatly in the correct place. It is almost 6 pm by the time the last lot is in place.  The drive way is strewn with bits of hay which the cows enjoy as they walk back into the cow shed. Our attic is full and the cow shed has a warm  smell of hay.

 The cows are content and you might just catch them looking upwards and sighing Hayyyyyyy!

Counting Coconuts.

 

Our coconut harvest has been long overdue.  What with the lockdown and then the incessant rain,  the harvest got delayed way more than we expected.  The trees tiring of their burden of the older coconuts  often dropped quite a few  here and there which the ravenous boars would polish off – clean.  Yes the boars can skilfully dehusk a coconut, break it open and eat it clean. 

Finally this week one of the Coconut tree climbers  agreed to come over.   The weather  was just right.  A bit cloudy and a gentle breeze and yet dry.  It is a pleasure to work in the farm on such days  after  the wet weather when your feet go squelch and your clothes get all soggy. And counting coconuts is a very pleasant task indeed.

There are two ways in which we can sell off the harvested coconuts  - One is by weight – in which case, we have to dehusk them and then take it to the Sunday market. Here the dealer weighs them and pays as per the rate on that particular date – Yes the rate fluctuates daily – I used to think that only Gold prices do that.   The other way is to sell by count.  We do this if we run short of time or don’t get a person to do the de-husking.  This time we chose to sell it by count.

The easiest and best way to do this is to count as we collect them.  The coconuts fall to the ground from that astounding height and crash land into the grass below.  The bunch often breaks and they scatter and bounce  around a radius of almost  10 to 15 meters.  So we need to pick them up and collect them in lots of 20 or 25.  

My part-time help Lalita expertly separates the coconuts from the bunch using a sharp sickle.  

The coconuts need to be separated from the stalk with a sickle

We work together  picking  the bunches and bringing them together.  The single coconuts scatter really far and  rather than carrying one or two to the pile, it is easier to hurl it towards the pile.  I have never tried my hand at shotput,  but this is close enough.  Once the pile is sufficiently big, I pick them in twos and count them as I put them into the ‘Mankirkee’  which is the basket meant for carrying the coconuts -   25 if they are small or medium sized and just 20 if they are really large.  

Some of the coconuts are humongous and easily weigh over 2 kgs.  

Our farm hand Yogesh carries the loaded Mankirkee on his head to our Pick-up truck and empties the load into it.  I jot down the number that we had put into the basket.  He needs help to haul the basket onto his head and I realise much to my chagrin,  that I cannot manage to lift the weight  above my shoulder height. It takes two of us ( Lalita and me) on one side  and Yogesh on the other to haul the loaded Mankirkee onto his head.   He then walks with practised ease over the uneven terrain to the vehicle to empty the load. 

I barely worked for 2 hours and am already beginning to feel the drain on my energy.  Vivek had worked the whole morning until the mid day tea break and then had to attend to some urgent work and hence I had pitched in.  I took  a break before my back and headed  home.  Luckily Vivek had finished with his work and was ready to go back to  counting coconuts.  I had to catch up with the rest of the kitchen work and feed the 4 hungry dogs.  I made  a refreshing  herbal tea (Kashaya)  for all of us and then got on with the kitchen chores.

The coconut tree climber finished his work by 2 pm and headed back home. We still had another couple of hours left of collecting and counting the coconuts.

So if any of you find it difficult to get carried off into Sleepy dream land as soon as your head touches the pillow, then  try counting coconuts  instead of sheep.  It sure does work!

The Fight!

 

A mock bull fight in action

Two months passed after Anandi had the traumatic episode ofa prolapsed uterus  just after Somavathi’s birth.  The first few weeks were tough -  administering her medicine thrice a day with all 3 of us holding her down while one of us poured the medicine down her throat, keeping her area spotlessly clean,  applying ointment on the stitches taking care to avoid her well aimed sharp kicks  and ensuring that there was no other unwanted problem.  Slowly things came back to normal and she started looking her healthy self again.  It was time to start letting her out to graze.

Anandi eager to go  for her walk..... the large doorway behind her through which all the cows proceed towards the gate.

During the time when we were not letting her out, she would bellow her protest as the others trooped out of the cow shed each morning.  We did realise that she was extremely upset about it, but there was nothing we could do.  And how upset she was and how much pent-up anger she had was displayed only when we finally released  her one morning.

Our farm hand always releases them out in the same sequence beginning with the left most – and they all make their way  in a peaceful line, out  of the large doorway from the cow shed which leads to the gate.  This day when Anandi was released, she shoved her way   towards the exit and butted Saraswati who was walking out.  Saraswati was taken by surprise, and stumbled heavily causing a little blockade.  The ones behind halted a bit too close to them and Anandi turned around and butted the one nearest her.  The cows are generally unperturbed by a little shoving and butting, but Anandi was persistent and Kaveri got agitated and started flailing her horns menacingly.  There was a bit of a melee but with a bit of yelling and thwacking the long herding stick in the air we managed to sort it out and all of them trooped  out.  I   followed them out with the herding stick as our farm hand proceeded to clean the cow shed.  I just presumed that once out of the gate in the open air, they would all go their normal friendly shoulder brushing way in search of green pasture.  But how wrong I was! 

They walked  out of the gate  and I latched it and turned to get back when I heard a heavy thud and scuffling sound.  I turned around to see that Anandi had butted Kalavati so hard that she had fallen on her side and Anandi was repeatedly butting her as she struggled to get up.  The other cows seeing this started butting Anandi and in a  minute it looked like a free-for-all… everyone seemed to be butting and fighting with someone.  Eight or nine of the adults were raising up  a dust storm and the younger ones were running helter skelter in panic.  All my thwacking of the stick and yelling made no difference – a full-on fight was in progress.  I yelled out to Vivek and our farm hand, both of them hearing the panic in my voice rushed out.  It took a good deal of yelling and thwacking to get them sorted out. I scooped out a tub of water from the drinking watertub and hurled it at them.   Finally peace was restored, the three of us were left  a bit shaken while the cows nonchalantly went up the hill tossing their heads, swishing their tails and maintaining  a ‘I’m not speaking to you’ distance between one another.  Giving each other a  Cold shoulder of the bovine kind.  I was worried that they might get into another nasty scuffle once they were out of sight.  We watched them for a long time and it appeared as if peace was really restored.

Watched them go down this path until they were out of sight

And so it was indeed.  In the evening they were all at the gate shoulder to shoulder with happy expressions.  None of them showed any resentment towards Anandi and none of them wanted to prolong or repeat the fight. 

Cool animals indeed!

Anandi as a baby.

Inspiration for an Artist!

 "An Artist sees what others only catch a glimpse of" - Leonardo da Vinci.

Truly an artist sees beauty even in the simplest of things and then brings it alive on paper /canvas for others to see it as well!

And when a simple photo clicked on my farm inspires an artist, it brings immeasurable joy to see the paintings.  

With much thanks to Shyamsundar Savkur  and Anuradha Dhareshwar for their paintings :

Painting by Anuradha Dhareshwar

The Photo clicked just outside our farm after a day of relentless rain

Painting by Shyamsundar Savkoor - my ever-young uncle who at 90, is an inspiration to others as well!  Love the brilliance of the green and the sunshine in the painting! And even Zuki's and Johnny's expressions have been captured perfectly

 

The Original pic

An emergency!

 

Monday morning.... I still get the Monday Morning Blues. although we have no weekends on the Farm.  I was just thinking that I really need to stick to a strict schedule  and  focus on getting the important things done on time.....such as Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner...  and of course.... all the other paper work, the bank work, replying to emails...... I seem to be running behind on everything.  So I started the day on a steely resolve .... yes today I would clear the pile of papers on my desk , clean up my PC and sort out the storeroom and make sure that All our Meals are on Time. 

I had just finished my coffee and was about to go to the Cowshed to check on Anandi (she was due to deliver a calf – her second one)  when Yogesh, our farm hand came running to call out to me. 

“What is the matter I asked him?  Has she delivered already?”  

“No  I don’t see a calf but ‘IT’ has come out” 

“What?”  I asked as I ran to the cow shed.  

Anandi was sitting morosely and behind her was a large bulbous sac streaked with blood.  It appeared to be pulsating.  

What .....in......the ....world....was this?  Was the calf still inside?  Where was the calf?   Was this a case of the ‘Prolapsed Uterus’ that I had read so often in James Herriot’s tales of veterinary practice? 

I ran back to the house and picked up my phone.  I was just 6.30 am and hopefully I would be able to catch our vet Dr. Gourish Padukone.  He is a busy doc , travelling quite a lot to remote farms and if he was already out on a case, we could do nothing but wait.  

I sent a silent prayer as the phone rang.  He answered and I described the condition  in as calm a voice as I could muster.....and ended on a panic stricken squeal ...   "Please come over soon.......”  

Thankfully he was at home and  said he would arrive within half an hour.  He instructed me to place a clean  plastic sheet under the protrusion and keep pouring cold water over it. "Don't let it dry out" he said.

I instructed Yogesh to milk the rest of the animals quickly, give them their feed and release them out of the cowshed. Vivek joined in and the three of us worked on top speed – we had to get the other cows out of the way and clean the area before the vet arrived.   In all the panic stricken activity, the new born calf was almost forgotten – she was sitting coolly in the farthest corner with her 3 aunts – Kalavati Saraswati and Purna! 

Dr.Gourish came in just as we finished washing the cow shed.  In a few minutes he assessed the situation and got down to work.  

In all these years of revolutionary advancements in science and health care, some problems of veterinary science are still dealt in the same way that James Herriot has documented in his memoirs during the pre- First world war Era.  So the Uterus had to literally shoved back in place with the 3 of us holding down the cow and  the vet using every ounce of his strength against the resisting cow.

It was a struggle. 

Anandi was obviously not happy being held down and was not too keen on receiving back what her body had just seemed to expel a few hours back.    She in turn tried her best to push it back out.  After what seemed an endless struggle, finally the uterus was pushed in all the way and positioned properly.   But we were not done yet.  Anandi had to receive stitches to prevent the problem from recurring.  She had to receive a drip and several injections.  

Finally all done!

By the time it was all over it was almost 12 noon.  The vet had to rush off to another case in a far flung village.  We got back for a much needed bath and to catch up with the rest of the work.

Well,  for the record,  we did have lunch  on time.....forget about the breakfast!

The next few days were critical for Anandi, she needed constant monitoring,  quite a few medicines to be poured down her throat and she had to be tied in such a way that she could not crane her neck and pull out her own stitches.  She also had to be tied on  a mud flooring .  So we tied her outside under the guava tree. In a weeks time everything seemed back to normal.  The little calf Somvati frolicked around and grew sturdily, little concerned about the upheaval her birth had caused.

Anandi and Somvathi under the Guava tree

We were also instructed not to let Anandi out to graze for at least 2 months.  She would bellow her protest with all her might when the others trooped out happily each morning.  She took it very badly that the others left her behind inspite of her protests, but we did not know it until the day when we decided that she was healthy enough to join the others for their daily outing.  But I leave that for another  post.

And I cannot  end this  without a Special Thanks to our vet Dr. Gourish Padukone  who incidentally, like us, moved several years ago from Mumbai (where he had a bustling small animal practice) to  rural Karnataka  to provide good veterinary care where it is needed the most!