I haven’t heard a cow moo yet. It’s almost been three weeks and although I have seen many cows - I have not heard them.
As the cars honk they silently wander through traffic- just like the cars they do not heed to lights or yield to anyone.
In the rural area the cows were still silent - or maybe their voices couldn’t be heard over the sound of the pelicans.
Cows with painted horns and rope through their nostrils listen to yelling people directing them to pull carts full of sugar cane - displaying their strength yet not their voice.
All the while I haven’t heard a moo.
I met a cow in Mysore who was painted yellow. Her udders hung down to the ground as she walked around a traffic circle twice. She pulled to the side, just as a rickshaw does, and sat down. Cam, Ross and I decided to stay and think of what adventure to do next. She seemed unbothered by the flies as well as our presence. A few people came by and talked to us - she remained silent.
I’ve come to realize that silence is a rare thing in India.
I’ve underestimated the value of silence and and the clarity it gives us from the calamity of the world.
Throughout my time in this program I’ve learned from many teachers - one of them was the cow. Perhaps productive silence and listening play a key part in these grand challenges we are solving.
Eventually another cow approached, nudged my yellow friend up, and they both walked away.