Ah, Qurbani Eid in Dhaka. It’s the city’s only time of the year when cows outnumber cars, and the roads smell like a strange mix of village fields and raw capitalism. If you’ve ever taken a stroll through Gabtali haat or the muddy chaos of Postogola, you’ve seen it: men in lungis with Bluetooth earpieces yelling “Six lakh, final!” while slapping their cows like they’re presenting the latest Tesla model to a Saudi prince.

The cows themselves? They’re all pretty similar. Four legs. Eats grass. Stares off into space. But at the haat, facts don’t matter, and logic left the chat a long time ago. What really matters is the story you tell. Because in this economy, you don’t just sell a cow, you’re selling a dream, a lifestyle investment; a giant, walking symbol of status. 

This guide will show you how to describe your cow like it’s a super-expensive sports car, not because it actually is, but because that’s the only way to explain why it costs more than a motorbike. Remember, a 2 lakh cow is just a Tk90,000 cow with better PR.

First rule: Don’t ever call it a “cow.” “Cow” is for villagers and class 3 textbooks. Your magnificent beast needs a fancy name. It’s not just “goru” – it’s “The Pabna Powertrain,” a “Limited-Edition Organic Beef Monster,” or even a “Bio-engineered Protein Spaceship.” If anyone dares to ask, “Brother, is this just a cow?” You look them straight in the eye and say, “Cow? My friend, this is a lifestyle.”

Now, let’s talk about the engine – its stomach. Don’t just say it eats well. Say this creature has a “super-efficient system” that turns even basic bhushi into pure muscle. It’s like a sports car that uses very little fuel but gives you huge power. This cow doesn’t just gain weight; it explodes with growth, promising an incredible amount of meat. Mention protein content like you’ve done lab tests. And its spirit? Tell them, “This one runs on raw emotion. No diesel, no battery – just unfiltered passion and greens.” If buyers ask if it’s calm, don’t say shanto. Say, “It’s dominant, but emotionally intelligent. Like a gym bro who meditates.”

Next, admire its bodywork and design. Forget “big and fat.” This animal is “perfectly shaped” with “aerodynamic curves refined over three monsoons,” engineered for optimal meat distribution and effortless carving. Its skin isn’t just black or white; it’s a “Midnight Asphalt with Dust Fade Highlights” or “Cream Beige with Rural Sunset Patina.” If it has random spots, proudly call it “Gucci Edition Custom Camouflage” And if it has a hump? That’s not a hump, it’s an “aerodynamic spoiler” that adds both speed and intimidation. Its back legs? “So muscular, it looks like it squats twice a day.”

When it comes to performance and handling, this cow isn’t just calm; it’s “incredibly smooth to manage.” It goes where you want, when you want, without a fuss, like a car that practically drives itself. Tell them, “It’s done 10,000 steps daily on mud, gravel, and Dhaka potholes. Full grip.” And for its origin story: “Came all the way from Kushtia on foot – only stopped twice: once for a fan selfie, once to flex in front of a mirror.” And if it happens to poop during your sales pitch? Just point and say, “See? System fully operational. Nothing to hide!”

Even the sound system is special. Your cow doesn’t just moo, it announces its presence. Say, “Bass-heavy boosted. Goats nearby get anxiety when it moos.” Or, “Last night, one moo and my neighbor’s cow had an identity crisis.” You can even record its first morning sound and tell buyers, “This is its cold start. Wait till it warms up.”

And yes, it has smart features and add-ons. Mention its “Built-in, eco-certified dung ejector.” Its “Voice recognition – responds to ‘kire,’ ‘hamba,’ and ‘haaat!'” It’s “Grass-powered and fully biodegradable.” And for safety, it has an “Anti-theft system: will chase thieves on foot and moo until a local aunty intervenes.” Plus, “Also compatible with kids. Zero emissions, maximum expressions.”

When it comes to justifying the price, don’t blink. Don’t drop the price easily. Look them in the eye and say, “This cow isn’t just for Qurbani. It’s a symbol. A memory. A statement. And maybe – just maybe – your ticket to jannat premium class.”

If negotiations get stuck, use “The Walk-Off.” Don’t bargain. Bargaining is for weak sellers and rickshaw walas. Instead, gently pat the cow, say, “You deserve better.” Then, turn slowly and walk away like Shah Rukh Khan in a sad rain scene. Whisper just loud enough, “Maybe a Dubai buyer will understand its worth.” Chances are, the buyer will call you back, offering more money and maybe even a bottle of Mum water.

At the end of the day, your cow might be just another cow – but your words can make it sound like a legend. Confidence, imagination, and a complete disregard for reality: those are the ingredients to salesmanship at the haat. So this Eid, polish your sales pitch, practice your impressive lies – I mean, “brand positioning” – and go forth. Sell your cow with the energy of a TED Talk and the creativity of a top advertising agency. Because when someone asks, “Brother, is the cow good?”, you shouldn’t just say yes. You should say: “Brother, this is an experience.”