A drive down NH8, from the posh façade of Gurgaon to Vasai village, feels like time travel to the ’80s in India: Signboards of Relaxo Chappals, English-medium model schools and bakeries that make vanilla pastry batches by the dozen usher you into its dusty lanes through, what my escort calls, the “Chandni Chowk” of Gurgaon. A traffic-choked square. Vasai shares its fate with many villages that are being fast expanded into by the city. The village panchayat has been replaces by the impersonal “zila nigam”, the municipality, which doesn’t often agree with the way the village operates. Discovery Wines, the theka (alcohol store) that has monopolised the glass-and-chrome Gurgaon, has found its way here, cookie-cutter multi-storey buildings have followed, throwing Vasai into a new world. We ask a security guard for the Shree Radha Krishna Gaushala, halting at the spot flagged by the GPS, and he replies in disbelief, “ Dikh nahi raha hai ke (Can’t you see it)?”

One glance and we too are left wondering how we could have missed it. As many as 3,000 cows are packed into large, industrial-size pens at this cow shelter which, according to the owners’ claims, is the largest in Delhi NCR. So crowded are the pens that the calves are kept separate, lest they get squished in a fight for space. Tied to one corner, a day-old calf is found resting. It’s evening, and a man is milking a lone cow in another corner of the shelter. For a shelter of this size, it is unusual that there is no milking shed.

Amit, who mans the donations desk of the gaushala, is wary on seeing us, but relaxes at the mention of Savita ji , the shelter manager, and Sudarshan Tiwari, secretary of the Bhartiya Gau Rakshak Dal (BGRD), who had directed us here. Most of the cows, bulls and bullocks caught at the NCR borders by the BGRD are brought here.

With its headquarters in Punjab’s Rajpura, the BGRD is an umbrella organisation of gau rakshaks (literally, ‘cow protectors’) spread across Punjab, Haryana, Telangana, UP, Bihar, Orissa, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. The organisation has a ‘Gau Commando Force’ — primarily vigilantes who patrol state borders for people smuggling cows, bulls and other members of the bovine family, as also conduct raids on slaughterhouses. Its members have been particularly active over the last two years, even as the organisation grew in strength. Incidents of violence have been reported from all parts of the country, including murder and lynching in several cases.

Since cattle trade in India is a state subject — with the laws differing from state to state regarding the transport and slaughter of cows, bulls and bullocks — no two raids by these vigilantes can be likened. The members themselves contradict each other on the rationale for the raids.

At a meeting held at Hira Sweets, a landmark in west Delhi’s Janakpuri neighbourhood, businessman Tiwari, a BGRD volunteer, insists that although some ‘elements’ within the organisation may mistakenly believe that they belong to a commando force, the organisation is actually only a ‘gau gyaan foundation’ meant to spread awareness on the sacredness of the cow and the need to protect it. He supports calls for a universal ban on cow trade, citing a “national threat”. “Fifty per cent of the cow meat trade is via Bangladesh. Money comes in the form of gold and arms through Murshidabad and 24 Parganas. The issue is linked to national security.” According to a 2015 Reuters report, the Modi government has given the Border Security Force strict orders to stop the illegal border-crossing of cattle, and that 90,000 cows have since been ‘caught’. Some of these animals were auctioned by the BSF, only to be smuggled again.

Attempts to meet Bablu Thakur, a member of the Gau Raksha Commando Force India, and Amreesh Dwivedi, the Rashtriya Pracharak Mantri (propaganda minister) of BGRD, proved futile. When contacted over phone, Dwivedi mentioned that he was busy with the “ bawal (outcry) in Una”. On July 11, four Dalit youths were stripped and thrashed in Una, Gujarat, for skinning dead cows. Two days later, Rahul Parmar, secretary of Gujarat Dalit Panthers, said, “The Dalit youth were thrashed so badly that there is little hope of them working again. The Dalit wings of both the Congress and BJP, as well as other unaffiliated Dalit groups, have come together in unique forms of protest.” The police’s passive presence, as also footage of the beatings that were captured on camera by the perpetrators, prompted Dalit activists to dump cow carcasses in government offices in Saurashtra.

Savita, the 30-something manager of Shree Radha Krishna Gaushala in Vasai, meets us in her kothi behind the cow shelter. Clad in a salwar suit, with a dupatta covering her head, she looks dressed for a day at work. Accompanying her is Amit. Lit by a tubelight, the room is lined by steel almirahs and has three cots in the middle. Among the photographs lining the walls is one of Sandeep Kataria, the founder of this cow shelter, which has come up on land belonging to the village panchayat. In just four years, the shelter has grown to accommodate 3,000 animals. Kataria didn’t live to see this day. He was murdered over a property dispute in 2014, at the age of 33. A memorial built by his wife now stands at the entrance of the gaushala . The statue depicts Kataria as a sadhu, seated cross-legged, while another statue — that of a man in police uniform — watches over him.

Savita tells me that the entire village is involved in ‘ gau sewa ’. The shelter, with a resident veterinarian from Rajasthan, incurs a daily expense of ₹1 lakh. The doctor’s ‘honorarium’ is ₹10,000 a month and there are 24 volunteers for the place’s upkeep. “Children like to work here as well, they are equally involved,” says Savita. The next question — “Don’t they go to school?” — seems to fall on deaf ears. A private school is right across the road, but most of the village children don’t go there.

Many of the cows at the shelter have been “rescued from butchers”. Volunteers routinely conduct raids along the Haryana-Delhi border. Any smugglers caught are handed over to the police, they say. The villagers are convinced that their actions are on the right side of the law. When I bring up the recent lynching of Dalits by the Gau Rakshak Dal in Una, Savita’s lips harden in reply. “Whatever may be the law of this land, we are right in the eyes of god, and he’s watching,” she says.

Amit shows me his left hand, its ring finger missing. “He was shot at during a raid just last month,” says Savita. “Humein pata chala toh hum 150 log leke wahan gaye, aur chakka jaam kiya, phir police aayi. Unhe maarna toh sar pe tha, nishaana chook gaya (When we got to know about the shooting, we staged a road blockade with the help of 150 volunteers. The police arrived only after that. They wanted to shoot Amit in the head, but missed), ” Savita says, gesturing with her index finger pressed to her forehead. “Teen aur log humaare gaon se issi kaam me shaheed ho chuke hain (Three people from our village have died in this cause),” says Amit.

An elderly woman, who was until now sitting quietly in the background, chimes in. “We are all involved in this work. I step in wherever needed, and chip in in whatever way I can,” she says with enthusiasm.

“Inka sirf naam hi Shanti hai, kaam hai kranti (Her name is Shanti or peace, but her work is revolutionary),” Savita says. She insists that every animal at the facility is treated humanely, and that includes dignity in death (read ‘burial’).

As we go to press, news of two women in MP being thrashed on suspicion that they are carrying beef come in. Gaushalas such as this, part legal, part religious are certainly one of the beneficiaries of this new cow vigilantism. Whether the benefits accrue in profits or political brownie points, is anyone’s guess.

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