“Hello, and welcome to the 2013 edition of The Most Eligible Cow! With your host, Hafiz Mia!”
The camera zooms in on an aging potbellied man waving genially as the crowd goes wild with polite applause. Honest perspiration darkens Hafiz Mia’s panjabi and glints on his smiling face as he turns towards the viewers.
The camera zooms in on an aging potbellied man waving genially as the crowd goes wild with polite applause. Honest perspiration darkens Hafiz Mia’s panjabi and glints on his smiling face as he turns towards the viewers.
“As-salamu alaykum and Eid Mubarak, dear audience. Every Qurbani it’s always the same, going to the gorur haat, treading through the muck and the hay, trying to buy a cow that doesn’t cost as much as your house… and then you have to take it home and feed it. It’s always so annoying. That’s why every Qurbani we select one lucky member of the audience to come forward and choose a cow to take home, completely free of charge! It’s always a pleasure, ladies and gentlemen, and this year’s cows are real beauties. So without further ado, I’ll call my assistant, the lovely Miss Morjina to come forward (a happy fat woman walks on stage) and choose our lucky guest from the audience!”
Applause. Miss Morjina scans the crowd and points out an elderly, bespectacled gentleman as ‘The Chosen One’. More applause as the gentleman makes his way on stage and introduces himself as Mr. Quader, a garments factory owner residing in Gulshan. “Give him a big hand, ladies and gentlemen” — whoops an ecstatic Hafiz Mia. “Mr. Quader, are you ready to meet the cows?”
“Definitely, I am delighted to be the one to take The Most Eligible Cow home!”
The camera moves towards the stage as three podiums surface out of the ground and with them — the cows. Hafiz Mia introduces them ecstatically:
“Laal Mia! Hopping the border and entering our country just last week, Laal Mia cannot speak a word of Bangla (or English) but what he cannot do with language, he more than makes up for with his sensual moos!” Laal Mia moos noncommittally.
“Contestant number 2! Hailing from Australia, Sir Henry cannot move his neck… or anything at all but he is a walking Beef Bonanza!” Sir Henry stares regally at a point three feet next to Mr. Quader’s hip.
“And last but not least, the only female and the Deshi cow amongst the contestants, Jorina packs a meaty punch not with her size but with the quality of her meat. Bangladeshi cows are known throughout the world as feisty and packing excellent meat, and the lovely Jorina will surely give the others a run for their money!” Jorina chews the cud with the contented air of a cow for whom life has no more to offer.
Mr. Quader beams. “They all look so delicious! How can I choose?”
“That’s where we come in! Each contestant has to pass a series of tests! First, the Rump Slap!” He leads Laal Mia forward. “Smack that rump, Mr. Quader! Hard as a brick! That’s what I call beef!”
“Ow! Hafiz Mia, I’d break my teeth if I tried to eat that! Let me try Sir Henry instead.” Sir Henry’s rump makes a satisfying smacking sound and jiggles temptingly under Mr. Quader’s hand. He nods approvingly and reaches for Jorina, who promptly knocks him down with her horns.
“Oi! Bad cow! Bad!” A procession of lungi-clad moustachioed men march on to the stage, bearing sticks. “Get her out of here!” As the feisty Jorina is led away, she gamely tries to murder a few of her handlers. “Are you okay, Mr. Quader?”
“… Never better. What year is it?”
Since Jorina can’t be kicked out of the contest just yet (the Bangladeshi sponsors are rather strict), she is moved to a corner of the stage away from the camera.
“Now it’s time for the teeth test!” — announces Hafiz Mia.
“Mr. Quader, would you please check the teeth of Sir Henry?” Morjina motions towards Sir Henry.
With the deft hands of a man who is used to handling cows at gorur haat, Mr. Quader parts Sir Henry’s lips with his fingers. All of a sudden Sir Henry’s teeth fall straight onto Mr. Quader’s hand.
“Oh! It seems Sir Henry is showing side-effects of steroid abuse. DISQUALIFIED!” — Hafiz Mia brings his red judging hammer down on a large green button. The podium which Sir Henry is tied to gradually goes underground along with him.
Laal Mia is brought forward to Mr. Quader and this time, he parts the cow’s lips with more care.
“His teeth seem stained… WAIT! These stains, they look rather cryptic. I would like to use our celebrity judge’s opinion, please!” — says an awestruck Mr. Quader.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest tonight as our celebrity judge — Mr. Dan Brown!” announces Morjina waving towards the judges’ table.
“So it seems that we have what it seems to be a very esoteric print on the cow’s lips. I fear that if there was any other man in my position, he would not be able to figure out that this is acute symbolism of what seems to be the male domination over the feminine parts of our society. If you look closely at the arrow-like shape, there seems to be a collection of tiny blots near base of the arrow’s shaft and this clearly signifies the feminine symbol of an orchid. Orchids as we know are flowers, much like roses, which as we all know are an ancient symbol of secrecy: sub rosa, if you will. I would definitely say that this marks the symbolic characteristics of the mother goddess: Gaia, Ishtar, Isis, and so on,” said Dan Brown peering over his spectacles and pointing towards the symbols on his LCD panel.
Hafiz Mia seemed ready to burst with glee. “THERE’S ART ON THIS COW’S TEETH! That’s certainly going to be a huge plus in Laal Mia’s favour, wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Quader?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, certainly, certainly.” Mr. Quader had the faraway look of a man who was calculating how much such information would be worth on the second-hand cow market.
Hafiz Mia gesticulates flamboyantly towards the crowd. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I think Mr. Quader is about ready to choose the winner! What’ll it be, sir? The feisty Jorina? Or the esoteric Laal Mia?”
“Definitely Laal Mia. No question.”
“And there we have it folks, Laal Mia is The Most Eligible Cow! Congratulations, Mr. Quader! We offer the services of Qashem Bhai and his assistant Chandu” — lungi-clad man and a street urchin appear on stage, armed with sticks — “to lead The Most Eligible Cow to your Gulshan home! Thank you for playing.”
Applause. Miss Morjina scans the crowd and points out an elderly, bespectacled gentleman as ‘The Chosen One’. More applause as the gentleman makes his way on stage and introduces himself as Mr. Quader, a garments factory owner residing in Gulshan. “Give him a big hand, ladies and gentlemen” — whoops an ecstatic Hafiz Mia. “Mr. Quader, are you ready to meet the cows?”
“Definitely, I am delighted to be the one to take The Most Eligible Cow home!”
The camera moves towards the stage as three podiums surface out of the ground and with them — the cows. Hafiz Mia introduces them ecstatically:
“Laal Mia! Hopping the border and entering our country just last week, Laal Mia cannot speak a word of Bangla (or English) but what he cannot do with language, he more than makes up for with his sensual moos!” Laal Mia moos noncommittally.
“Contestant number 2! Hailing from Australia, Sir Henry cannot move his neck… or anything at all but he is a walking Beef Bonanza!” Sir Henry stares regally at a point three feet next to Mr. Quader’s hip.
“And last but not least, the only female and the Deshi cow amongst the contestants, Jorina packs a meaty punch not with her size but with the quality of her meat. Bangladeshi cows are known throughout the world as feisty and packing excellent meat, and the lovely Jorina will surely give the others a run for their money!” Jorina chews the cud with the contented air of a cow for whom life has no more to offer.
Mr. Quader beams. “They all look so delicious! How can I choose?”
“That’s where we come in! Each contestant has to pass a series of tests! First, the Rump Slap!” He leads Laal Mia forward. “Smack that rump, Mr. Quader! Hard as a brick! That’s what I call beef!”
“Ow! Hafiz Mia, I’d break my teeth if I tried to eat that! Let me try Sir Henry instead.” Sir Henry’s rump makes a satisfying smacking sound and jiggles temptingly under Mr. Quader’s hand. He nods approvingly and reaches for Jorina, who promptly knocks him down with her horns.
“Oi! Bad cow! Bad!” A procession of lungi-clad moustachioed men march on to the stage, bearing sticks. “Get her out of here!” As the feisty Jorina is led away, she gamely tries to murder a few of her handlers. “Are you okay, Mr. Quader?”
“… Never better. What year is it?”
Since Jorina can’t be kicked out of the contest just yet (the Bangladeshi sponsors are rather strict), she is moved to a corner of the stage away from the camera.
“Now it’s time for the teeth test!” — announces Hafiz Mia.
“Mr. Quader, would you please check the teeth of Sir Henry?” Morjina motions towards Sir Henry.
With the deft hands of a man who is used to handling cows at gorur haat, Mr. Quader parts Sir Henry’s lips with his fingers. All of a sudden Sir Henry’s teeth fall straight onto Mr. Quader’s hand.
“Oh! It seems Sir Henry is showing side-effects of steroid abuse. DISQUALIFIED!” — Hafiz Mia brings his red judging hammer down on a large green button. The podium which Sir Henry is tied to gradually goes underground along with him.
Laal Mia is brought forward to Mr. Quader and this time, he parts the cow’s lips with more care.
“His teeth seem stained… WAIT! These stains, they look rather cryptic. I would like to use our celebrity judge’s opinion, please!” — says an awestruck Mr. Quader.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have a very special guest tonight as our celebrity judge — Mr. Dan Brown!” announces Morjina waving towards the judges’ table.
“So it seems that we have what it seems to be a very esoteric print on the cow’s lips. I fear that if there was any other man in my position, he would not be able to figure out that this is acute symbolism of what seems to be the male domination over the feminine parts of our society. If you look closely at the arrow-like shape, there seems to be a collection of tiny blots near base of the arrow’s shaft and this clearly signifies the feminine symbol of an orchid. Orchids as we know are flowers, much like roses, which as we all know are an ancient symbol of secrecy: sub rosa, if you will. I would definitely say that this marks the symbolic characteristics of the mother goddess: Gaia, Ishtar, Isis, and so on,” said Dan Brown peering over his spectacles and pointing towards the symbols on his LCD panel.
Hafiz Mia seemed ready to burst with glee. “THERE’S ART ON THIS COW’S TEETH! That’s certainly going to be a huge plus in Laal Mia’s favour, wouldn’t you say so, Mr. Quader?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, certainly, certainly.” Mr. Quader had the faraway look of a man who was calculating how much such information would be worth on the second-hand cow market.
Hafiz Mia gesticulates flamboyantly towards the crowd. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I think Mr. Quader is about ready to choose the winner! What’ll it be, sir? The feisty Jorina? Or the esoteric Laal Mia?”
“Definitely Laal Mia. No question.”
“And there we have it folks, Laal Mia is The Most Eligible Cow! Congratulations, Mr. Quader! We offer the services of Qashem Bhai and his assistant Chandu” — lungi-clad man and a street urchin appear on stage, armed with sticks — “to lead The Most Eligible Cow to your Gulshan home! Thank you for playing.”
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