The Dangerous Search For Pure Milk

(MENAFN- Kashmir Observer)
Milkmen from different areas of Kashmir bring milk in load carriers for selling it in Srinagar. Pic: Farooq Shah

Today, searching for pure milk in Kashmir can be quite dangerous, with consumers risking their well-being in pursuit of safe dairy products amidst adulteration concerns. Milk suppliers from surrounding regions converge on Srinagar in large numbers, yet their products often fall short in quality, being tainted and adulterated.

A few weeks ago, in the early hours of a misty morning in the sparsely populated area of Saidakadal on the outskirts of Srinagar, I suddenly encountered a pack of at least half a dozen hefty stray dogs. The dense foliage and vast stretches of marshy land, remnants of the dead Anchar Lake, provided an ideal stronghold for these canines.

The sight was terrifying, their pitch-black fur blending seamlessly with the morning surroundings. My mind immediately flashed back to an incident in April last year when a man in Aligarh was mauled to death by a pack of dogs during his morning walk. Fresh on my mind, this incident highlighted the extreme danger stray dogs can pose, especially in large, vacant areas during the early hours. Though I'm not usually afraid of dogs, the number and unpredictability of these strays made me realize how dangerous they can be when you find yourself in their territory.

Dogs are extremely territorial and do not tolerate interference in their domain. Approaching cautiously, I relied on a special whistle that has previously helped me pacify dogs. As I began to whistle, some of them responded, wagging their tails in relative submission. However, the alpha male remained motionless, blocking my path to the house where I bought milk. When I took a step closer, he growled furiously, prompting the others to join in, destroying the confidence I had painstakingly built. I had no choice but to retreat slowly and lean against a parked jeep while the dogs continued to stare at me. For fifteen minutes, I whistled, hoping they might change their mood and become gentle. However, the stalemate persisted. I was not ready to give in, much less expected from the canines. Finally, my perseverance paid off, and they quietly left the scene, allowing me to enter the house and fetch the milk.

One of my students informed me that a house in their neighbourhood owned two cows after I complained about the poor quality of milk delivered by our milkman. She arranged for me to get milk from there. The milk, though expensive, was excellent, but the only inconvenience was that the house was three kilometers away from ours, meaning a total round trip of six kilometers. I decided to view this as a chance to incorporate a morning walk into my routine, enjoying fresh cow's milk straight from the source along the way.

That day, I made it home safely, but the constant threat of the dogs weighed on my mind, leaving me uneasy. As resilient as the canines themselves, I devised a plan to mitigate the danger. Carrying biscuits with me, I decided to befriend the dogs, which proved quite successful. Over the following week, I built a friendly relationship with all the dogs, and my daily routine settled back into place, guaranteeing a consistent supply of pure milk. We became a contented family, savoring high-quality milk. Homemade ghee from its rich cream was an additional benefit.

However, our happiness was short-lived. One day, we found a thick jelly-like substance at the bottom of the milk container, causing concern. This suspicion grew stronger when my student informed me that they had stopped getting milk from the same house after discovering a similar substance. When I raised the issue with the lady of the house, she apologized and explained that the cow had been treated with medication due to an infected teat. Although I understood her explanation, the milk's consistency no longer assured me of its quality, planting seeds of doubt in my mind.

I had grown weary both physically and mentally. The thought of walking six kilometers daily during the colder months to fetch milk dissuaded me from continuing with the arrangement. Eventually, I politely informed the lady that the daily distance was too taxing for me. She smiled sadly, expressing her understanding of my decision and I discontinued getting milk from her house.

During this period, I reached a new agreement with our former milkman, who promised to maintain the quality if we paid him the same amount as we did the house. Reluctantly, I agreed to his terms. The new milk isn't as poor as the previous one, but it still falls short of the desired quality.

Securing unadulterated milk in Kashmir, renowned for its rustic customs, has become a thing of the past, entailing daunting challenges and occasional life-threatening risks.

As frustrations grow over the quality of essential goods like milk, amidst promises of corruption-free governance, it becomes evident that the reality falls short of expectations. Whether it is mutton, chicken, spices, or other consumables, taxpayers deserve assurance of quality in what they receive. Regular monitoring of supplies, including milk, is crucial to prevent exploitation and ensure that citizens receive what they rightfully deserve. Upholding this mandate is essential for a transparent and accountable government, committed to safeguarding the well-being and rights of its people.

And while I managed to save myself from the dangers posed by stray dogs, a significant concern in its own right, the ongoing threat to my and my family's health persists from consuming adulterated food items.

• Views expressed are the author's own and do not necessarily represent the editorial stance of Kashmir Observer

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