If you haven’t read Part 1 of this epic story, please read no further and correct your shortcoming/oversight/mistake/error immediately. I’ll wait till then.
OK, so all caught up with the goings on in our life till the morning of the trek? Should I continue? Good.
It was a simple enough climb, as climbs go, on a fairly gentle gradient. Maybe that was the reason the bull (along with his daughter of course, no offence intended) had not realized how high the hill really was, and grazing merrily, had reached the top without breaking a sweat.
He compensated for that by oozing bucket-fulls of sweat since the evening, which now, akin to Newton’s apple, was taking the fastest path towards flatland, in the form of multiple streams of pale yellow streams. It was then that my wife could take it any more, and asked me, “Since when have you known that you could talk to animals? And when were you planning to tell me? If I had known about your power, I could have used it to get Mrs. Sharma’s dog to go pee on Mrs. Varma’s white clothes hanging outside her home. Bhala uski kameez meri kameez se safed kaise?” (How can her shirt be whiter than mine- Old Jungle Saying).
I indignantly replied, “I swear I came to know about it just last night during my conversation with the cow. Do you think I could even dream of hiding such a huge secret from you? You know I tell you everything darling.”
“That’s a load of bull shit,” she said.
“Of course not sweetheart,” I said, going on the defensive, “I did not tell you about Mark’s bachelor party and the stripper because I just forgot about it. I couldn’t possibly forget about such a big power, could I?”
“No,” she replied, mincing her words menacingly, “I meant that’s a load of bull shit, literally, in the middle of the track, and now, you have stepped right into it, both literally and figuratively. So what was this about the bachelor party and the stripper?”
I realized that I had just walked into a trap (along with a load of bull shit of course) and was now feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter when suddenly, I heard a jingling of bells, and we both looked up to see a herd of sheep coming our way.
Thanking the Good Lord for this minor miracle, I stopped the head sheep and asked, “Baa Baa Black Sheep, have you seen the bull?” The sheep replied, “Yes Sir, Yes Sir, I saw him by the pull (Bridge in Hindi).” She then continued, “If you walk faster, you will catch him and his daughter, before they are taken by the little boy who lives down the lane.”
And so we ran towards the top of the hill, and suddenly, the stupid gradient of the hill did not seem that gentle, in fact, it was almost vertical now, or at least that is what our burning lungs and throbbing leg muscles would have us believe. And then, we saw them, a bull and his daughter, standing by the bridge, looking quizzically at us.
We approached them with measured steps, and I told the bull, “Sir, your wife sent us to fetch you since she was worried about you.” “That’s good,” replied the bull, “for even I am worried about me.”
“So let’s go,” I said, happy that he was already primed up for the walk downhill, “What are we waiting for?” The bull replied, “There’s only one small problem….I don’t want to go back.”
“WHATTTT?” I cried out, “But why?”
He replied, “Well, it’s so peaceful and quiet over here. Plenty of grass to graze, amazing sunrise and sunset, and most importantly, no silly cow to nag me the entire day. So, I decided that I will make myself a nice shed here, and spend the rest of my days raising my daughter alone.”
“But you HAVE to come down with me,” I howled, “Or your wife will kill me.”
The bull replied laconically, “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.”
And it was then that in my desperation, I committed the biggest mistake of my life. I climbed on top of him, and shouted, “I WILL NOT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER. NOW LET’S GO!”
It was the worst thing that I could have done. The bull’s face reddened, and right there, that mild-mannered, docile creature transformed into a raging bull. He raised his two front legs high into the air, becoming almost as vertical as that last stretch of the hill in the process, and SHOOK with righteous anger.
I fell so hard that I broke the gold crown of my third molar, the one which I had got put after misreading the name of the James Bond movie as The Man with the Golden Gum. And Newton’s (and his apple’s) friend took over from there, and I rolled down the steep hill, slowly at first, and then, accelerating sharply, and contrary to the experience of stones, I was gathering a lot of moss on my way down, in addition to copious amounts of bull shit of course.
But in doing this, the bull too committed the biggest mistake of HIS life, for my wife, seeing me being attacked, transformed into Jhansi Ki Rani (legendary Indian warrior queen), and while the bull was still precariously balanced on his two rear legs, she PUSHED him with all her might, so he too started rolling down right behind me.
However, in doing so, my wife too committed the biggest mistake of HER life, for she entirely ignored the bull’s seemingly harmless daughter, not looking at her as a potential threat at all. An oversight which the young rascal then used to PUSH my wife down the hill, so that she too started rolling downhill behind me and the bull.
It was then that the young calf saw the three of us rolling down the hill, and thought, “This seems like a lot of fun.” And with a loud shout of “GERONIMO…..” she jumped behind us, and started rolling merrily down the hill.
And it was thus that our host, the farmer, out grazing the cow at the base of the hill, was greeted with a strange but wondrous sight, which he would not be able to unsee till the time he was alive.
I hit flat ground first, followed by the bull on top of me, followed by my wife on top of him, followed by a cackling calf on top of her. And as we lay entangled there, the farmer walked up to me and asked, “So, how was the sunrise?”
And a few hours latter, when all of us, had been untangled, the farmer asked me to tell him exactly what happened. To this day, he blames my broken golden crown, and hence, bloodied mouth for what happened next, but I think he did it just for kicks.
He wrote down our adventures of this morning in the form of a short poem, and sent it to the local newspaper for publication. And it was just our luck that even in those pre-internet days, the poem went viral like crazy, and we became famous, or rather infamous. The only problem was, the farmer had misheard (or so he claims) a key phrase in my narrative. I kept on sending corrigendums to publications around the world, but it was too late by then.
And so I thought I will use this forum to set the record straight and tell the correct version of the poem, and I trust you good people to share it as widely as possible to make my story mine again. The poem should have been:
Jack and Jill went up the hill
To fetch a bail (Bull in Hindi) and his daughter
Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after.