Reign of the bull

With eyes tightly closed and lips marginally opened, my tongue tasted something sour. It perhaps was the sweat dripping of my philtrum or the last night’s food left on the edge of lips. My delicate ears were almost jeopardized by multiple irksome sounds. As the gentle breeze brushed the epidermis of my cheek, the dead and slob pores began to rejuvenate.  The neurons in my body were enjoying the process of slow activation, until the wind reached my nostrils and I was awakened by the smell of raw fish.  
I stood near the window and took a seriatim glimpse of world. Though it was eight in the morning, my shadow rather being slant, stood right beneath me (So imagine the temperature).  Sweat on the back of my neck were chasing each other. I gasped and skimmed the words written on the billboard which stood in front of my hotel – “Kalakātāẏa sbāgata” (Welcome to Kolkata).
I had gone to Kolkata to attend my friend’s wedding. It was my first visit to the oldest capital of the nation. Unlike my hometown, the city was extremely chaotic and impatient. My friend’s resident was just 2kms away from the railway station. Therefore, to avoid inconvenience I decided to stay in a hotel beside the junction.
The function was supposed to being at 12 pm which gave me ample amount of time to take insights of this exuberating city. Carrying a mug of dark, exotic espresso in hand, I went out to the adjacent balcony and rested my elbows on the exquisitely polished railing. The railway station was on the left and the scenery was cluttered with people on footpaths and vehicles on road. As I shifted my gaze to the right, I saw a long queue of yellow taxis with a few private vehicles in between, standing on the road. The drivers were honking and yelling from their cars’ windows. The subject of the matter was a black giant bull sitting in the middle of a narrow road.
It was impossible for people to commute without moving the cattle. A few passerby tried to move it by making some facetious sounds but nothing fell of deaf ears. The absence of traffic police made the traffic worse. Nobody went close with the fear of being hit by its horns. After a few bizarre attempts, people made their way to stone pelting. Suddenly, two wiry men dressed in rugged jeans and shirts came out of restaurants for rescue. I couldn’t figure out, what made those slender men attack a bull, especially with no weapon or shield in hand. Looking at their daunting attitude, everybody was hopeful of their success.
The performance started with artists taking their positions. One stood in the front and the other at the back of the bull. They followed the modified version of “divide and rule” i.e. distract and rule. As the man in the front tried to retrieve bull’s attention, man at the back tried to push it. They tried almost every position to move the bull which weighed double the their sizes .  As a point of acclamation, the cattle did get distracted but the result was different from expected. The cattle hit the frail man with its tail. One try, second try, third try and it went on but the cattle sat there like a fragile king. It almost felt like the bull was bestowing the two men. This went on for almost an hour. The performance which had begun with immense enthusiasm, drained down but the bull continued   to remain on its throne. 
The queue eventually settled with an alternative route. The clock struck 11. Before rushing towards the room, I took a last glimpse of the bull and titled the hilarious performance of the two frail men and cattle “reign of the bull”.
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