This is the story of a beloved bull who lived long before the monstrous
Japan made power tillers displaced others of his kind from their position of
pride as a Bhutanese farming household’s chief preoccupation. His name was Bjan
Ka Zeb (bjan dkar dzerb), named after the white furs that lined his
dewlap and brisket. He was bought by my grandmother from a herd of bulls that
was put up for sale by cattle traders from far east Bhutan who periodically
came for such purposes to the villages of Sha (shar) and Wang (wang).
The eastern
borders of Bhutan were then famous for their pedigree Ja-tsa (rgya
tsh) bulls that were cross breed of partially domesticated wild Mithun bulls
(ba men) and domestic cows. A majestic animal with well-built physique,
they were highly agile and were considered the kings of Bhutan’s notoriously
narrow terraced paddy fields. Even though these bulls were genetically sterile,
they were nevertheless prized possessions for their high utility and
durability. A Ja-tsa could live over quarter of a century and
could serve a farmer for most of that period. However, more than its draught
purposes, it was a Ja-tsa’s sheer brute force that always
captivated the imagination of the people. A strong and skilful Ja-tsa that
could floor enemy bulls with a hefty swing of its razor sharp horns was the
delight of its owner. He would rather spend all his property on compensation
than see his pride bull turn
tail.
As such,
whenever news filtered of ad-hoc cattle tradeshows, people rushed to get hold
of the boldest Ja-tsa. This was always one occasion where
farmers could be banked on by crafty tradesmen. A Ja-tsa was
simply irresistible and traders knew how to cash in on it. But Bjan Ka Zeb
wasn’t bought because he was among the most impressive of them.
With a few Ja-tsas already
in service, my grandmother went to spend the last of her reserve on a
relatively benign animal who could be used simply for the utilitarian purpose
it should have ideally been meant for. Bjan Ka Zeb fitted that bill. With no
physical attributes of a pride bull, his trader assured that Bjan Ka Zeb would
one day become a most useful task animal. With an austere look, Bjan Ka Zeb
barely looked anything more than a weakling calf.
However, such
characters are usually what give rise to fairy tales. Bjan Ka Zeb fast became a
most adorable company for his owner’s family. Without any of the usual Ja-tsa tantrums,
Bjan Ka Zeb was soon the playmate of every child. He displayed an intuitive
understanding of people more like a cuddly cat than a half-tamed beast.
Those were the
days when Bhutanese farming depended on a grand mix of agriculture and animal
husbandry. To work the large endowments of land, farmers usually kept huge
herds of mixed breed cattle. Ja-tsa and its female version (Ja-tsam)
were among the prime breeds though the larger portion of the herd was usually
made up of the indigenous specimens. Apart from catering to a household’s diary
needs, cattle served draught purposes. At the same time, their excretions
fertilized the fields.
Bjan Ka Zeb’s
intuition of people’s expectation extended to understand their timetable across
seasons. For the plantation season, Bjan Ka Zeb would tirelessly bear the yoke
and till his owner’s fields. In the summer, he would be dispatched higher up
into open pasturelands after he had been fed his dose of salts and other
essential nutriments. For the rest of year, he would stay close to his owner.
It is said that even when he was let loose near fields, he would not take even
a mouthful of crops. Thus with him, the household was spared a person who would
usually be employed to guard the fields. His exemplary behaviour doesn’t end
here though. He was a most considerate member of his herd. He would always
respect other’s positions in the herd and was most considerate to other bulls,
a fact which was not true with most of his kind.
Much has
already said of him by now. But more remains to be related of Bjan-ka-Zeb.
Overtime,
Bjan-ka-Zeb grew up to be the pride of the herd. Even though his physiques were
far from intimidating, he rose through the ranks on the back of his immaculate
skills in using his horns when pressed into doing so. To back this ability, he
had a never-say-die attitude. He would have been passed off as just a good
natured animal had it not been for these qualities.
Then it
happened that one day, an irreverent drang-la (drangs
glang, a native bull) in the prime of his youth crossed his part with
fatal consequence for the unfortunate animal. With a strike of his horn, the
bull was gutted to death.
Now those were
times when in the largely agrarian society, men took pride in talking about
their bulls when they are not boasting of the dagger at their side. As soon as
the disconsolate owner, who happened to be my grandmother’s elder brother (of
the same parents), heard the news of his bull’s tragic end, he began putting
aside resources to buy a fitting rival to Bjan-ka Zeb’s dominance.
Revenge became an all-consuming desire. He was at that time the henchman of the gewog (rgae
‘og, an administrative unit of villages) and the death of his bull which
was claimed by his rival family (or so he thought) was the biggest blow to his
pride.
And then came
the cattle traders, as punctual as the seasons of the year. It must be said
that fortune favoured Gup Namgay (rga po rnam rgal) for
the cattle show that year was the biggest in living memory then. The Gup was
the first man to arrive barely giving time for the traders to display their
cattle. He would ask for nothing but the best in the herd. The traders had a
way with their prospectus clients, and seeing the desperation in the man, they
offered the best bull in the herd for a fortune.
At the first
sight of the formidable Ja-tsa, he saw his own personality
reflected in it and thus named him Gupchu (rga po chung, or the Gup’s alter
ego). Taking Gupchu home with a new found pride that was boyish in
a man known for his cool and calculated maneuvers, he called for the feast
especially prepared in Gupchu’s reception. Gupchu was not to disappoint the
eager members lined up all long. A majestic animal with a lot of brawn, Gupchu
was imposing on all that came up against him. No one in the village remembered
seeing another bull quite like him in their lifetime. It was clear to all that
Gupchu had the strength to match his physique which was unrivalled in
everybody’s discerning opinion. And if horns were what people looked for in a
bull, then he had them in unmatched measure.
People were
just excited to see the two most popular bulls of all times, albeit for
different reasons, lock horns, again of different make. As eager as Gup Namgay
was to unleash his beast upon the upstart, he knew that it would be foolhardy
to do so. He thus engrossed himself in preparing his bull for what he knew
would be the vindication of his hurt pride. Gupchu was thus put on fight mode
and was absolved of all responsibilities usually entailed on a bull. In the
process, Gup Namgay was just too happy to see Gupchu impale a
couple of his other fighting bulls.
Although the
rivalry was building up, for the sake of what little was of left of courtesy,
restrain was shown by both parties for as long as possible. But then the
unavoidable came eventually.
On a sunny
Autumn day when the fields were ripe with harvest, Bjan-ka-Zeb crossed into
Gupchu’s territory, though unwittingly. This was all the invitation that Gup Namgay
needed to unleash what he sure thought was carnage on hand. Thus, he made sure
that Gupchu found his target, guiding him to Bjan-ka-Zeb’s location.
And thus began
the match (or mismatch as many feared) which was on the card ever since the
humiliation that was dealt by Bjan-ka-Zeb. The fight began with the ritual
sizing up of each other, that was more when those involved were Bja-tsa. Gupchu
was the first to strike, a thing that surprised no one. It was clear that
Gupchu expected to return home early, and probably with another kill to add to
his growing notoriety. He thus struck hard and sure enough, Bjan-ka-Zeb
retreated. With his superior physique and strength, Gupchu bullied his opponent
pushing him all over the field. Bjan-ka-Zeb appeared helpless against the
onslaught but held on with all his might. If the term bulldozed was meant to
imply the foolhardy nature of a bull, then Bjan-ka-Zeb could not be considered
as one for he was as wily as a fox. Bjan-ka-Zeb used his energy sparingly and
would not get drawn into an all out show of strength.
Gupchu showed
the first signs of frustration, fatigue and with it, exposed more than just a
chink in his armour. It was then that Bjan-ka-Zeb took charge and showed
peerless striking skills with the pair of his unpretentious horns. It is said
that as the two fighters exchanged strike for strike, it resounded across the
villages of the Sha valley. By this point in the fight, spectators included
people not only from Chungsekha, but it is famously said that people from
villages across the Sha valley put aside their works and watched as the pair
took on each other. Such is the excitement that had been built up leading up to
the fight.
As the fight
wore on, the advantage of Gupchu’s superior mass and strength was virtually
nullified. It was increasingly a fight of sheer stamina and will power and
Bjan-ka-Zeb displayed an abundance of both. His pair of blunt horns tore into
Gupchu’s flesh around his horns and blood gushed out in abrupt streams. With
his unmatched endowments, Gupchu inflicted similar injuries on Bjan-ka-Zeb
though he seemed increasingly out of breath and idea. It became clear that he
wouldn’t have liked anything better than an honourable way out. However, that
wasn’t coming forth and so he fought on.
When the pair
locked horn, the farmers had just started their day’s work. In the thick of the
action, nobody realized that the sun had set on Chungsekha. However, the
tremendous exertion was now taking its toll on the bulls and it was just their
unworldly pride that kept the bulls slugging it out.
Bjan-ka-Zeb
almost collapsed out of exhaustion but before he did so, Gupchu’s legs gave way
and he buckled down under his own weight. In this fight of character,
Bjan-ka-Zeb won by merely being able to stand on his feet. However, with his
enemy completely shattered and helpless at his feet, Bjan-ka-Zeb displayed a
chivalry that would put the best of knights to shame. Bjan-ka-Zeb stood over
his distraught enemy and was almost sorry on his victory.
With the winner
now decided, the people rushed to help. While Gupchu was literally on his last
breath, Bjan-ka-Zeb’s condition was no better. Gup Namgay was
agitated for the best part match after the initial euphoria. However, not
willing to accept defeat, Gup Namgay prepared for immediate
rehabilitation of his fallen hero. Though bleeding profusely and with deep
injuries, Bjan-ka-Zeb walked back to his owner on the last reserve of his will.
With yet
another blow to his pride, Gup Namgay prepared for a rematch.
The whole population of Sha expected nothing else. And sure enough, a refight
indeed took place though both parties were in no hurry to go for it. And as
things turned out, the match was an exact replay of the first with Bjan-ka-Zeb
scrambling to victory again. With the second consecutive defeat, the last of Gup Namgay’s
resistance was finally over.
People
inevitably talked making sense of the turn of events. A man’s pride was tied to
his bull and by extension, his character reflected in the bull’s exploits.
Thus, against all odds, victory was always guaranteed to a bull behind whom
stood a strong owner. Despite being a woman, my grandmother was always the one
with the greater strength of character and was considered the more righteous in
what was more than just a protracted sibling rivalry.
With these
exploits behind him, Bjan-ka-Zeb passed the remainder of his days as Sha’s most
beloved bull. After living to a grand old age, he died at the arrival of the
plantation season when Bhutanese farmers were in most need of meat to
supplement their diet to face a grueling work season. In those days, the only
meat people considered for consumption was of cattle who died of natural
causes. Thus, as in life, in death Bjan-ka-Zeb was a most faithful
servant.
Now it must be
stated here that it is true people of Sha are given to eulogizing and this
piece is indeed one such instance. More often than not, characters like
Bjan-ka-Zeb are the stuff of such eulogies.
@ densore
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