Maharashtra Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis exulted on Monday that a dream had been realised when the president gave his assent to a 20-year-old bill making cattle slaughter illegal and criminalising the possession of beef in the state. The markers of that dream were already visible early in his tenure.
In January, the Indian Express had reported a government plan to start the state’s first scheme to help ageing cows. The programme, called Gokul Gram, will give land and money to non-governmental organisations to protect cows and also monetise them by selling cow urine and cow dung.
In this single-minded attention to cows, the government has made it seem that the bovines in Maharashtra are under grave threat. But in fact in cities and towns across India there are institutes to take care of a variety of stray and injured animals, not just those considered sacred in caste-Hindu belief.
One of these is the Bombay Panjrapole Trust which, established in 1834 as a shelter for dogs, is possibly the oldest animal shelter in the city. The trust does not restrict its services to a single species. On its premises across three sites in the city are dogs, cows, pigeons, geese, injured birds and a donkey.
Not just cows
Institutions like panjrapoles have been around for centuries. The names vary from place to place – pinjrapoles in the north to panjrapols in Gujarat and Maharashtra – but the concept remains the same. They are all-purpose homes for animals that have nowhere else to go.
The Bombay Panjrapole Trust is buried so deep inside the Gujarati-dominated neighbourhood of Bhuleshwar in south Mumbai that it is easy to spend a day shopping around it and never know it exists. On one side of it are clusters of shops, selling sequinned clothes and ornaments for Hindu idols, and on the other side a dull cement chawl. They are all tenants of the trust. The actual animal shelter is restricted to an airy two-acre compound that holds pigeons, geese, injured birds, cows and a few stray cats.
The trust is the place where Mumbai’s activists entrust rescued ageing animals. All animals in need of help are welcome here.
The Bombay Panjrapole Trust completed its 180th year in October. When it opened in 1834, it was not meant to shelter cows. It was a home for stray dogs, which were in grave peril from colonial administrators. Every three or four months for perhaps 45 years, the British attempted to clear the streets of dogs by posting public notices announcing rewards for dog carcasses.
The going price for dead stray dogs was eight annas, or half a rupee – enough to motivate professional dog killers to raid private homes, steal dogs and kill them for a price.
In 1832, the dog killers went too far. In June that year, dog squads forcibly took away dogs from the homes of several Parsis, setting off Bombay’s first riot as Parsis across the city closed their supply shops and prevented others from carrying out their daily routines. The violence only ended after the British brought out their troops with orders to shoot at any sign of unrest.
The trust was born out of that riot. Senior Parsi leaders stepped in and decided to restore the dignity of the community. Cowasji Patel, after whom CP Tank near Bhuleshwar is named, donated a vast tract of land to a trust established by Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy and Amichand Shah, and stray dogs were then released there.
The trust brought in its first cows to supply milk to the dogs, but over the decades, as the cows became a major source of income and then the most numerous inhabitants, the dogs were shifted to Bhiwandi – because it has more space, said Mogrelia – and cows and pigeons remained.
Dwindling funds
Employees of the Bombay Panjrapole Trust are sceptical of Gokul Gram.
“Unlike gaushalas attached to temples that take care of only cows, here we take care of all animals that come to us,” said Amrutbhai Prajapati, who has worked as the trust’s accountant for 25 years. “The government might announce these schemes, but until the funds come, what can we say?”
Adi Mogrelia, the trust’s secretary, concurs. The last time the government offered funds for the trust’s upkeep in the 1990s, the institution received only half the amount but got taxed for the full promised sum. The trust decided to stay away from government money after that.
For now, it relies on donations, rent from its tenants and the original trust fund. “Nobody gives lakhs and crores anymore,” Mogrelia said. “Even donations of Rs 5,000 and Rs 10,000 are becoming rarer.” Whatever donations come in have an element of the mercenary since the acknowledgement receipt can be used for 50% tax rebate.
The trust currently takes care of 1,800 animals across its four centres in Bhuleshwar, Chembur, Kalyan and Bhiwandi. Of these 1,500 are cows and the rest include dogs, goats and two donkeys.
The cows, 350 of which are in Bhuleshwar, are accustomed to visitors. As people pass by, even calves have perfected the art of hoisting their forelegs into the food trough along the inside of the enclosure to get at whatever laddoo or grass that might be on offer.
At the gate, signs prohibit feeding the animals outside food since it upsets their stomach. Those who want to feed the hundreds of pigeons or cows have to buy grass or grains or laddoos from a counter instead – and get receipts with their names and addresses.
Charity or industry?
While it began as an institution without religious colour, the trust's most numerous residents today are cows and its most frequent donors are Hindus and Jains who hold cows sacred.
In early years, the trust built buildings on the land donated by Patel to provide income. When rents were frozen by the Bombay Rent Control Act in 1947, these buildings became liabilities and the trust turned to cow milk. They do not sell cow urine or cow dung, as the Maharashtra government might soon ask them to do.
“Milk is only a by-product of the institution,” Mogrelia said. “Out of the 1,500 cows, only 100 give milk. So we donate those services to tuberculosis patients and others who need it. We do not process it at all.”
Mogrelia’s caution might arise from a case against the trust in 1971, when workers pointed out that it was selling milk far in excess of its needs. While the trust is still registered under the Charity Commissioner, the Supreme Court ruled that this aspect of its work classified as an industry and granted its workers the rights associated with that.
Lingering tension
Tension remains between the trustees and workers even today. Many of them are new arrivals from Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. They are not paid enough to get houses even in Mumbai’s prohibitively expensive slums. Unlike older employees, they do not get housing from the trust in the surrounding buildings because of lack of space. They are now contemplating shifting their union affiliation from the Hind Mazdoor Sena to the Congress.
Both employees and trustees are united on one thing though: the importance of keeping animals safe.
“We are supposed to work eight hours but we work more only because these are cows and we don’t mind doing it for them,” said Pankaj Tiwari, a worker from Madhya Pradesh. “But we also need higher salaries.”
Prajapati added: “Mercy is the best policy when it comes to animals. We should not have pity for those who are cruel to them.”
In January, the Indian Express had reported a government plan to start the state’s first scheme to help ageing cows. The programme, called Gokul Gram, will give land and money to non-governmental organisations to protect cows and also monetise them by selling cow urine and cow dung.
In this single-minded attention to cows, the government has made it seem that the bovines in Maharashtra are under grave threat. But in fact in cities and towns across India there are institutes to take care of a variety of stray and injured animals, not just those considered sacred in caste-Hindu belief.
One of these is the Bombay Panjrapole Trust which, established in 1834 as a shelter for dogs, is possibly the oldest animal shelter in the city. The trust does not restrict its services to a single species. On its premises across three sites in the city are dogs, cows, pigeons, geese, injured birds and a donkey.
Not just cows
Institutions like panjrapoles have been around for centuries. The names vary from place to place – pinjrapoles in the north to panjrapols in Gujarat and Maharashtra – but the concept remains the same. They are all-purpose homes for animals that have nowhere else to go.
The Bombay Panjrapole Trust is buried so deep inside the Gujarati-dominated neighbourhood of Bhuleshwar in south Mumbai that it is easy to spend a day shopping around it and never know it exists. On one side of it are clusters of shops, selling sequinned clothes and ornaments for Hindu idols, and on the other side a dull cement chawl. They are all tenants of the trust. The actual animal shelter is restricted to an airy two-acre compound that holds pigeons, geese, injured birds, cows and a few stray cats.
The trust is the place where Mumbai’s activists entrust rescued ageing animals. All animals in need of help are welcome here.
The Bombay Panjrapole Trust completed its 180th year in October. When it opened in 1834, it was not meant to shelter cows. It was a home for stray dogs, which were in grave peril from colonial administrators. Every three or four months for perhaps 45 years, the British attempted to clear the streets of dogs by posting public notices announcing rewards for dog carcasses.
The going price for dead stray dogs was eight annas, or half a rupee – enough to motivate professional dog killers to raid private homes, steal dogs and kill them for a price.
In 1832, the dog killers went too far. In June that year, dog squads forcibly took away dogs from the homes of several Parsis, setting off Bombay’s first riot as Parsis across the city closed their supply shops and prevented others from carrying out their daily routines. The violence only ended after the British brought out their troops with orders to shoot at any sign of unrest.
The trust was born out of that riot. Senior Parsi leaders stepped in and decided to restore the dignity of the community. Cowasji Patel, after whom CP Tank near Bhuleshwar is named, donated a vast tract of land to a trust established by Sir Jamsetjee Jeejeebhoy and Amichand Shah, and stray dogs were then released there.
The trust brought in its first cows to supply milk to the dogs, but over the decades, as the cows became a major source of income and then the most numerous inhabitants, the dogs were shifted to Bhiwandi – because it has more space, said Mogrelia – and cows and pigeons remained.
Dwindling funds
Employees of the Bombay Panjrapole Trust are sceptical of Gokul Gram.
“Unlike gaushalas attached to temples that take care of only cows, here we take care of all animals that come to us,” said Amrutbhai Prajapati, who has worked as the trust’s accountant for 25 years. “The government might announce these schemes, but until the funds come, what can we say?”
Adi Mogrelia, the trust’s secretary, concurs. The last time the government offered funds for the trust’s upkeep in the 1990s, the institution received only half the amount but got taxed for the full promised sum. The trust decided to stay away from government money after that.
For now, it relies on donations, rent from its tenants and the original trust fund. “Nobody gives lakhs and crores anymore,” Mogrelia said. “Even donations of Rs 5,000 and Rs 10,000 are becoming rarer.” Whatever donations come in have an element of the mercenary since the acknowledgement receipt can be used for 50% tax rebate.
The trust currently takes care of 1,800 animals across its four centres in Bhuleshwar, Chembur, Kalyan and Bhiwandi. Of these 1,500 are cows and the rest include dogs, goats and two donkeys.
The cows, 350 of which are in Bhuleshwar, are accustomed to visitors. As people pass by, even calves have perfected the art of hoisting their forelegs into the food trough along the inside of the enclosure to get at whatever laddoo or grass that might be on offer.
At the gate, signs prohibit feeding the animals outside food since it upsets their stomach. Those who want to feed the hundreds of pigeons or cows have to buy grass or grains or laddoos from a counter instead – and get receipts with their names and addresses.
Charity or industry?
While it began as an institution without religious colour, the trust's most numerous residents today are cows and its most frequent donors are Hindus and Jains who hold cows sacred.
In early years, the trust built buildings on the land donated by Patel to provide income. When rents were frozen by the Bombay Rent Control Act in 1947, these buildings became liabilities and the trust turned to cow milk. They do not sell cow urine or cow dung, as the Maharashtra government might soon ask them to do.
“Milk is only a by-product of the institution,” Mogrelia said. “Out of the 1,500 cows, only 100 give milk. So we donate those services to tuberculosis patients and others who need it. We do not process it at all.”
Mogrelia’s caution might arise from a case against the trust in 1971, when workers pointed out that it was selling milk far in excess of its needs. While the trust is still registered under the Charity Commissioner, the Supreme Court ruled that this aspect of its work classified as an industry and granted its workers the rights associated with that.
Lingering tension
Tension remains between the trustees and workers even today. Many of them are new arrivals from Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Rajasthan. They are not paid enough to get houses even in Mumbai’s prohibitively expensive slums. Unlike older employees, they do not get housing from the trust in the surrounding buildings because of lack of space. They are now contemplating shifting their union affiliation from the Hind Mazdoor Sena to the Congress.
Both employees and trustees are united on one thing though: the importance of keeping animals safe.
“We are supposed to work eight hours but we work more only because these are cows and we don’t mind doing it for them,” said Pankaj Tiwari, a worker from Madhya Pradesh. “But we also need higher salaries.”
Prajapati added: “Mercy is the best policy when it comes to animals. We should not have pity for those who are cruel to them.”
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