Both bull and rider are conditioned for years, before they are ready for a rekla (bullock-cart) race. I've been rearing bullocks for the race for over twenty years now. I had a different name while in government service. After I retired though, I have taken on a different name. When my bulls win they race, they say, "Nagarampatti Vaiththiyar's bulls have won.”
The area around Theni, where hills abound, is called Varshanadu. There are frequent rains. The cattle roams free on the hills, drinking that water, breathing in that air. They are guided by herders and protected from wolves. They are not tame. You will be gored if you go near. We call this breed the naattu inam (local breed). We take calves from this breed for the rekla race, and for our ploughs and transport.
The age of the bulls is determined by the number of incisors. Two, four, six and eight. At two incisors, the calf is too young for tough training. By eight, it is too mature. At four, it is made to run for a little while each day. Every fifteen days, it is made to plough on dry soil, to strengthen the grip of the hooves. Every day, it is made to swim for an hour, to strengthen the muscles in the leg and neck.
Fodder, fresh grass, millets and pulses soaked overnight to germinate – all of these are fed to it each day. Every activity and each item of food is designed to increase its stamina.
Once a year, sixteen medicinal herbs, crushed and made into a ball, are fed to it to improve blood circulation.
Both rider and the bull eat their last meal 24 hours before the race. A cow has four stomachs, and it takes a long time for food ingested to leave the body. The bull is given only water for that day, so it runs on an empty stomach, light on its feet and completely alert.
The people of Karaikkudi are called 'Nagaraththars'. Their culture is rich, and most of them are affluent, thanks to their business acumen and an affinity for hard labour. The bullocks that are trained for the rekla race were also used for transport in the old days. The groom's village would be ten or fifteen miles away. The newlyweds, along with the bride's possessions, heirlooms and produce from her village, would be taken on twenty or so reklas to the groom's village. This practice died away after the advent of mechanised vehicles.
It has been three years since there has been a rekla race. I still have four pairs of rekla bulls. I still condition and train them. I still spend forty thousand rupees a month on them. I can afford it. Most of the others have sold them off.
All of their efforts so far have been directed towards replacing them with Jerseys. An entire web of culture and economy is on its way to extinction. Culture, economy, the science of breeding, the relationship between man and cattle; all of these are inseparable. You break one, everything falls apart.
Where are the cowherds? Even thirty years ago, there would be herds of fifty or hundred cows that would be sent out to graze in fallow land, to return at sunset. The dung of these cows would be natural manure for the fields.
What else do you want to know?
(The author is a rekla bull owner and a vet. The opinion expressed in the piece are of the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor takes responsibility for the same.)
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