It’s becoming a routine ritual on the crowded, colorful streets of Delhi, India: A small team of men surrounds a wandering cow, attempting to coax it on to a waiting truck for a trip to a suburban reserve. But the cow catchers need to be careful: To India’s millions of Hindus, the cow is a holy animal that cannot be harmed.

The tender treatment is just one example of our complicated relationship with cows — a historic partnership detailed by NATURE’s Holy Cow. From a source of meat and milk to a provider of labor and religious inspiration, cows often play a central role in modern life.

Few people, however, revere the cow like the world’s 900 million adherents of Hinduism. Since the faith first evolved near Asia’s Indus River more than 3,000 years ago, respect for animal life has been a central theme in Hindu life. While many scholars say early Hindus ate beef, most ultimately came to see the cow as a sacred animal to be esteemed, not eaten. “If someone were to ask me what the most important outward manifestation of Hinduism was, I would suggest that it was the idea of cow protection,” Mahatma Gandhi, India’s legendary nonviolent leader, once wrote.

Although Hindus follow no single set of rules, reverence for cows can be found throughout the religion’s major texts. Some trace the cow’s sacred status back to Lord Krishna, one of the faith’s most important figures. He is said to have appeared 5,000 years ago as a cowherd, and is often described as bala-gopala, “the child who protects the cows.” Another of Krishna’s holy names, Govinda, means “one who brings satisfaction to the cows.” Other scriptures identify the cow as the “mother” of all civilization, its milk nurturing the population.

Today, in heavily Hindu nations like India and Nepal, milk continues to hold a central place in religious rituals. And in honor of their exalted status, cows often roam free. Indeed, in some places, it is considered good luck to give one a snack, a bit of bread, or fruit before breakfast. On the other hand, a citizen can be sent to jail for killing or injuring a cow.

The divine bull, Nandhi, guards Hindu temples.

But as cities have grown more crowded, cow-friendly policies have posed problems. Delhi’s 13 million residents, for instance, share the streets with an estimated 40,000 cows — leading to some complaints. One is that the grazing cows spread trash as they rip open garbage bags in search of tasty morsels. Another is that they dangerously snarl traffic.

“What is the greatest traffic hazard in Delhi today? Cows,” Bibek Debroy, a columnist for India’s Financial Express, wrote in a pointed 2003 essay. “As our national animal, the tiger may be close to extinction. But the cow is very much around and many soon become our new national animal.”

To solve the problem, Debroy offered one tongue-in-cheek solution. “Let them have reflectors and, if not license plates, at least identity cards. Only genuine Delhi cows should be eligible for social security and other benefits.”

City officials, meanwhile, have adopted a different approach: the cow catchers. Under pressure to reduce cow populations, Delhi has hired nearly 100 of the urban cowboys, who are charged with catching and shipping cows outside the city limits, sometimes to special reserves where the animals are cared for.

But the work isn’t easy. And it can be downright dangerous. The cows often sport sharp horns, and life on the street has made them savvy and sometimes ornery. Some can recognize the sound of the transport trucks and perform a kind of bovine ballet to avoid the catchers. Still, city leaders say they won’t give up until the vast majority of the cows have been moved. Skeptics note that some of the animals return to their home turfs within days of being moved.

Meanwhile, some of India’s Hindu politicians are relying on cows to bolster their support. They have proposed new cow-protection ordinances, and vowed to ban butchers from Indian stores. Critics say such proposals go too far, and would violate India’s commitment to religious tolerance — and the nation’s constitution. But if cows could vote, they’d surely be in favor.

Living Edens: Temple of the Tigers explores how one of the subcontinent’s most magnificent and endangered animals fulfills its destiny in a remote nature preserve that also shrouds the ruins of a long-fallen empire.

Hinduism, the dominant religion of India, views all living creatures as moving on the same wheel of fate. Karma determines each one’s destiny, and a trinity of gods representing the cycles of creation, preservation, and destruction oversees the universe.

The filmmakers transport viewers to the Bandhavgarh plateau rising from the jungles of central India. Once the capital of a powerful dynasty of maharajas, it is now the protected domain of the royal Bengal tiger and other indigenous wildlife. The city’s palace and temple ruins are also the solitary retreat of an old Hindu priest, who tends the shrines and awaits the annual pilgrimage made by thousands of the devout who come to pray at these ancient places of worship.

To order a copy of Living Edens: Temple of the Tigers, please visit the NATURE Shop.

Online content for Living Edens: Temple of the Tigers was originally posted May 2002.

It is elephants’ elevated standing in Indian culture that prevents them from being killed, even when they bring destruction to people and property. Over 80 percent of Indians are Hindus, and to members of the Hindu religion, the elephant is a sacred animal. Elephants are sacred animals to Hindus. It is the living incarnation of one of their most important gods: Ganesh, an elephant-headed deity who rides atop a tiny mouse.

There are many stories of Ganesh’s creation, but the best known say he is the son of Parvati, the Hindu goddess of the mountains and wife of the greatest god, Lord Shiva. One day, Parvati desired a guard as she took a bath, so she created Ganesh from dirt to stand watch. But the boy did his job too well; he refused to let Lord Shiva see his wife. Angry, Shiva cut off the boy’s head. To console his grieving wife, Shiva gave Ganesh the head of an elephant.

According to Hindu scholars, each part of the deity has a symbolic function. Ganesh’s head itself symbolizes the ability to acquire wisdom and knowledge, while his big ears bestow the patience to listen carefully. Ganesh’s small eyes can behold the future and recognize truth, while his long trunk is able to sniff out good and evil. His big belly symbolizes the ability to digest both the best and worst in life. The tiny mouse upon which Ganesh rides symbolizes the ability to move quickly and decisively.

“All obstacles, whatever they may be, will be rooted out by worshipping Ganesh,” promises an ancient Hindu text. Today, following Shiva’s command that anyone beginning a new undertaking worship Ganesh, Hindus often invoke the elephant god’s name at the beginning of worship, trips, and projects — such as the elephant taming adventure documented in The Elephant Men. Ganesh is also honored at the beginning of books, because he is said to have been a great scribe and patron of learning. He is depicted on many temples; some even keep stables of real elephants for ceremonial events. In south India, for instance, there is a fall festival called Dussehra that is famous for its parade of elephants decorated with paint and cloth.

Hindus, though, aren’t the only South Asians to worship elephants. Buddhists, for instance, believe so-called “white” elephants, a light-colored variant, carry special significance. In Thailand, white elephants are considered the king’s property, and wars have been fought over these relatively rare animals. While Asian elephants are revered today as spiritual icons, they were once also feared as potent weapons of war. Countless ancient armies surged across Asia on elephants.

Sometimes, however, these elephants proved a liability. When the great Timur, King of Samarkand, attacked Delhi in 1398, the city’s defenders boasted an intimidating elephant corps. But the animals fled in panic and Delhi’s defenses crumbled after Timur’s men drove camels carrying grass torches on their backs toward the elephants. Terrified by the fire, the elephants stampeded. Soldiers weren’t the only ones to fear elephants; prisoners also had reason to tremble. When convicted of serious crimes, felons could face death by elephant trampling.