A brown cow. With some white spots on her back. Who looks at the side and points her ear towards the direction where sound is coming from. She is tagged with a yellow tag. Numbered. franchised. Mass produced.
She gives milk. White milk. The milk which she produces for her calf. The milk she gives to humans. She does not give but humans take from her. She can do nothing about it. Her calf taken away from her. She can do nothing about. She is tied in her station. Not allowed to move here and there. People giving stale food to her. Some wet straw. They don’t give a damn about whether she likes them or not. Not caring for whether her neck is tight with the rope. Whether the area she is sitting is wet or not. Hard or not. Smelly or not. No body asks whether she is really comfortable. Nobody asks her whether her calf is comfortable or not. Whether she would like to have today’s milk entirely for her young calf.
She hates when people pluck her sensitive parts with a machine. She is uncomfortable with that. The way a new machine works is totally weird. It seem to give that extra pull in those nipples. The brown guy was saying that the milk extractor was fully upgraded and twice more efficient. But for her it was twice more painful. Twice more unfitting. It was made to look more fitting but inside it was all hard and pointed. There were times when she felt like blood would come from her nipples rather then milk. If she was not tied then she would love to go to green pasture. Spend the day in sunshine. See her young calf grazing by her side.
When tired she would bask in the warm sun and regurgitate the thing that she ate before. Chew it more and take enjoyment. There were no green grass here in this station. It was like ages before she tasted them. It was in the time when she was taken to vet. On the way there she saw some green grass and went to eat it. It felt fresh. The joy was short lived. The people came after her to chase her away from the green area. It was theirs they say. She did not get it. It was her milk they drank. It was for them she starved her young ones. It was for them that she spent her life tied in the neck. Chained. But when the time came she went to have a bite or two of green grass then they claim the grass as theirs. How selfish of them. But it did not matter. She went on . She was strong and intelligent to not feel sad . She is happy that she can walk in this sun. She is happy that she can see the grass with her eyes. It made her happy. She felt her hooves pressing the soft mud below then there was a spark of joy. It was a small joy but it was continuous. It was the thing which kept her going.
Mind that meditates 