Pestonjee had arranged for a cow to be delivered to Metro House at ten in the morning. Despite his devotion to minutes, schedules, calendars, plans, Pestonjee could not predict the vagaries of the cow market. Cow-love followed its seasons. It peaked during Eid. The editorial of a leading English newspaper in Bombay offered a reason. In Genesis, Abraham is on the verge of sacrificing his son, Isaac, when an angel intervenes and Isaac is substituted with a ram. For centuries afterwards, Muslims sacrificed rams, goats and lambs. In the past decade however, the cow became an exponentially popular substitute. Cow riots played their part. Legal institutions played theirs. In court, the Hindus said that the Muslims hurt their sentiments by killing cows in the open. The Muslims argued that the Hindus were being intolerant of their religious practices. The judge ruled that cow sacrifice would be allowed in places where cows were killed as a custom. Where cow sacrifice did not prevail, no new ritual would be introduced. Custom is a figment of collective imagination. Within a year, the number of cow sacrifices rose by a multiple of fifteen. A week ago, a rich Hindu landlord paid three times the price to save a hundred cows. Elsewhere, ninety cows were led away to the abattoir. The first fifteen lay dead, the sixteenth was held by four men. She struggled. As the blade rose over her head she shut her eyes. The next moment, she heard the blade clang on the floor. The cow protectors had come and Salim, who was no longer protected by the weight of his heavy blade, took off in the opposite direction. The cow, when she opened her eyes would have thought for an instant that she was in golaka (Krishna’s heaven for cows) but the corpses of the previous fifteen were beside her. The protectors rubbed turmeric on her forehead. Some of it irritated her eyes, but she, along with the rest of the cows, joined the celebration. Meanwhile, the cow rentiers at Crawford market were having a difficult time managing their cow stocks. In the past two weeks, cow raiders had procured three thousand cows from Muslim traders and delivered them to several newly constructed cow shelters. The middlemen incorporated the risk of raids—the prices soared. The next week, the police superintendent issued a stern warning to all the cow protectors: ‘The police are the only protectors in town.’ Immediately, the cows transformed from mothers to meat and the prices fell again. Riots occurred. ‘No private property is to be infringed,’ ordered the superintendent. This time around, ten men lost their lives, while private property and prices remained safe and stable. During Muharram, Muslims demanded more cows. The Hindu landlords had burnt their fingers before and appeared less willing to save any cows, mothers or not. It was not entirely their fault. In the previous round of the game, they had paid three times the price. The act was meant to be symbolic. For the sake of honour, they gambled away their wealth in a night of jingoism. Over time the cow traders became better racketeers. They influenced the Hindus to protect and the Muslims to devour. A lighted match can get out of hand and out of control. This week, no one was in control and no cow was delivered to Pestonjee.