Valentine’s Day, the nationalist’s way

— “So?” she said, arching her eyebrows.

— “So, I was wondering if you would mind if I went ahead and hugged one… I mean you won’t get angry or jealous or anything…”

She put her hand in front of her lovely mouth to hide a smile. “Um…no, not at all…you go ahead…”

— “I mean you could smooch a bull if you liked. I’ll just look the other way!”

— “No, no bulls for me, or BS for that matter. But you carry on. In fact I’ll like to come along too if you don’t mind…”

“Are you sure?” I said doubtfully.

“Yes,” her eyes twinkled. “Just don’t, drool so much when you kiss her…she might not like it…”

— “Hrrmph! So how should we go about it? Should we go to one of those gaushalas?”
My girlfriend rolled her lovely eyes. “Are you nuts or what? Those poor skinny things will probably fall all over you wanting to be hugged and you’ll be impaled by their splintering ribs! Or, they might just think you’re not their type and ignore you. How would you live that down, eh?”

— “Okay, then tell you what! We’ll just stroll down the road and I’ll hug the first cow I come across…”

— “Sounds like a plan! The sabziwallah and fruitwallah and garbage dumps always have cows nosing around.”

So, off we went. Sure enough, at the garbage dump a lean brown cow was trying to ingest a plastic bag that might have once contained chips. I went up to her.

— “Don’t eat that!” I implored her, ‘it’ll get entwined in your intestines and kill you. By the way would you mind very much if I hugged you?”

The cow looked at me through lowered brows and horns. “Eh? Who the hell are you to tell me what to eat and what not to? Are you from the gormint? And already you’re hitting on me! Hug me will you? What next? Sharam nahin aati – aren’t you ashamed: And that too, in front of your mother!”

— “Miss, she’s not my mother…” I could feel my girlfriend bristle like a porcupine behind me.

The cow took a step forward and moo-ed loudly. “Are you leaving or not?”

“Okay, okay, don’t have a cow but the Ministry shall hear about this!” I said petulantly, stepping back.

“What a cow, thinking I was your mother!” my girlfriend said witheringly.

“I tell you… But…umm maybe they expect a gift…”

So at the florist I bought a big bouquet of red roses and a lovely green head of broccoli from the sabziwallah.

“That’s a bigger bouquet than the one you gave me!” my still outraged girlfriend complained.

“At least I didn’t bring you broccoli!” I replied. She whacked me gently at the back of my head.

We found our next cow soon enough, munching dahlias in a flower bed. She was a sweet looking thing, with gentle doe eyes and a velvety muzzle.

“Here,” I said softly, “these are for you and now can I please hug you?”

She looked up and daintily took the roses I had offered her – and ate them. Then she snaffled up the broccoli.

— “Sorry,” she said, “I know I’m not being greenhouse gas friendly, but I love broccoli! Thank you!”

— “You’re welcome. Now umm…can I give you a hug? To make the nation feel better only…”

She looked at me out of those great liquid eyes. “You can hug me as much as you want!” she said, softly, seductively, batting her eyes, like a Bollywood starlet.

— “Ooo…look at that, she’s ready to jump over the moon for you!” my girlfriend squealed, “How romantic!”

Lovely Ms. Romantic then let one off like a Gatlin gun firing. I backed away hastily.

“Be brave!” my girlfriend urged. “Go on, it’s for the nation!”

I took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening up my arms. This was a public display of affection all right, but government-sanctioned.

— “Bozo…hold it!” my girlfriend suddenly hissed, clutching my arm. I turned around and looked at her.

— “What? Are you having second thoughts now?” Typical, I thought. I find the cow of my dreams and now she has a problem!

“No,” she said, taking a step back and pointing behind my shoulder.

I turned around. A two-ton jet-black, red-eyed bull stood behind the sweet cow, smoke puffing from his nostrils as he snorted. When he pawed the ground, I could feel the tremors.

“Is the chokra bothering you, durrling?” he asked the cow. “I’ll just show him!”

“No, no,” she simpered, “it’s all right! He only brought me presents which you haven’t!”

“Abbe, I’ll show him presents!” the bull snorted and lowered his head.

My girlfriend yanked me back. “Don’t try to be a hero…now come on!”

We managed to get away unscathed.

“Damn! I still haven’t hugged a cow!” I complained.

My girlfriend eyed me speculatively. “Well, you can hug me if you like but if you think I’m an old cow…”