The Cursed White Cow: A Supernatural Encounter in the Village

One was named Shafik, and the other was Ratan. This Shafik had been living abroad for a long time. He came back to the country during the pandemic and didn't return because they had a lot of property in the country, and he intended to spend the rest of his life managing it. That was his plan.

The incident happened not too long ago, in 2021. It was during the summer when this occurred. The thing was, they used to cultivate sugarcane on a large portion of their land because there was a sugar mill in Madali. Most of the sugarcane from Faridpur goes to the Mukali Sugar Mill. That's why sugarcane cultivation is so prevalent in that area—across a vast region of Faridpur. During the jute season, they grew a lot of jute too. So, they had cultivated sugarcane on a large area.

The problem was that at night, some mischievous people from the village would bring their cows and goats to graze in the sugarcane field. Especially when the sugarcane was very young, it looked a lot like Napier grass, so they would let their animals graze then. Even when it grew bigger, they would still let the cows and goats graze. That’s why they had to go and guard the field at night sometimes.

One day, it was Shafik’s turn to guard the field. His sugarcane field was spread out extensively. Near it, he had a shallow machine irrigation pump shed. He went to the shed, intending to rest for a bit and then walk around to check the field. He took a large charger flashlight—the kind that shines far—and left his house around 9:30 p.m. In the context of 2021, in that area, 9:30 p.m. wasn't considered particularly late. Many people were still awake; many houses had electricity, and some were even watching television at that hour.

Thinking he'd do a quick check for about an hour and then come back to rest in the shallow machine shed, he first walked around a bit to see if anyone was around. When he saw no one, he decided to stay a little longer and head home around 2 or 2:30 a.m. He went back to the shed, put up the mosquito net, and lay down, thinking he'd sleep for a bit, wake up, check again, and then go home. He fell asleep but didn’t remember how long he had slept before he woke up to the sound of children laughing.

He wondered what was going on—why children were laughing so late at night. He slightly opened the door of his shed and tried to see who was there. He thought maybe these kids had brought goats or something to graze. Peeking out, he saw two children, about three or four years old, running, laughing, and playing like toddlers do. They were playing around a cow.

The cow was quite sturdy, completely snow-white—so white that it seemed unreal. Cows aren’t usually that white, and this one had an unbelievably beautiful, tall, healthy physique. These two kids were patting its head, touching its feet, and pulling its tail, and the cow seemed to be playing with them. It even looked as though the cow was laughing, though cows can’t laugh. It seemed to him that the cow was actually enjoying playing with the children.

A strange kind of light was coming from their bodies. Even though the moon was in the sky, and there was moonlight, the clarity with which he saw them was unusual. It seemed like all the moonlight was concentrated on their bodies, illuminating them in an unnatural way. Despite this, Shafik didn't initially think anything was unusual. He took his flashlight, went outside, and pointed it toward them.

That’s when it happened. The two children immediately ran into another field nearby, where tall Napier grass was planted. Shafik, however, grabbed the cow’s rope. For some reason, the cow couldn’t move. That night, he thought, "What should I do with this cow now?" He decided to take it home.

He took the cow to his house and tied it in the cowshed with the other cows. After tying it up, he went to sleep. That night, past 3:30 a.m., he had a dream. In the dream, an old man with a radiant face, hunched over with age, spoke to him:

"Shafik, my son, let this cow go. She has two babies. The babies are hungry; they eat nothing but their mother’s milk. Let her go. Put her back where you took her from."

The old man repeated this a few times before Shafik woke up. He wondered why he had such a dream. He went to the cowshed and saw that the cow was fine, but it was crying—tears streaming from its eyes. He didn’t understand what was going on. He thought perhaps the cow belonged to someone in the village, but he had never seen such a beautiful cow before. He decided he would secretly inquire in the morning to see if anyone had lost a cow.

However, the next morning, despite asking around, he found no information about a missing cow of that type or color. Meanwhile, the cow wouldn’t eat anything—it just kept crying. Another night passed, and the same thing happened. Then, on the third night, something else occurred.

At around 2:30 a.m., he heard the sound of children crying. He went outside and saw the same two children standing near the cowshed, sobbing. When they saw him, they ran away. He still didn’t understand what was happening—whether it was something supernatural or just an unusual situation. The next morning, he told his brother, Ratan.

Ratan said, "Brother, I don’t think this is a good thing. Try to feed the cow one more night and see if it eats anything."

That night, the children returned, but this time, an old man was with them—the same one from his dream. The children cried, and the old man, standing beside them, simply smiled. Then they disappeared. At this point, Shafik and Ratan realized something was very wrong. They decided to seek guidance from a local Imam known for dealing with supernatural matters.

The Imam, an elderly and pious man, listened to their story and scolded Shafik, saying, "This is no ordinary cow. It is a jinn in disguise. The children are its offspring, and the old man is their guardian. You captured it while it was returning from a long journey. Since jinns have certain limitations, it couldn’t escape. But they do not wish to harm you—they only want their mother back. Take the cow back to where you found it and release it willingly."

That night, following the Imam’s instructions, Shafik led the cow back to the field. Before releasing it, he spoke, "I didn’t understand before, and I apologize. You are free. Go back to your children. You are welcome to return anytime."

As soon as he let go of the rope, the cow vanished. After that, whenever he passed that field at night, he would sometimes see the beautiful cow and its two offspring playing under the moonlight, with the old man standing nearby. Yet, their presence never harmed the crops again.