One day Daudayal was returning home from court when he witnessed a strange incident. A Muslim man was selling his cow on the road, and many people had surrounded him. Some thrust money in his hands while a few tried to snatch the tether from him, but the poor Muslim man only kept on looking at the faces of the customers and after pondering over something held the tether even more tightly. The cow was a beauty. She had a slender neck, heavy haunches and milk-filled udders. A beautiful, sturdy calf stood by, glued to its mother. The Muslim man seemed extremely agitated and sad. He was looking at the cow with compassion-filled eyes, trying to contain his emotions. Daudayal was delighted to see the cow. He asked, ‘Hey, do you want to sell the cow? What’s your name?’
When the Muslim man saw Daudayal, he went to him happily and said, ‘Yes, sir, I want to sell her.’
‘Where have you brought her from? What’s your name?’
‘My name is Rehman and I live in Pacholi.’
‘Does she give milk?’
‘Yes, sir, she will give around one kilolitre of milk at a time. She is so good that she allows even a child to milk her. Children keep playing around her feet but that never annoys her.’
‘Does anybody know you here?’ The solicitor was suspicious, thinking that the cow might be stolen.
‘No, sir, I am a poor man, nobody knows me.’
‘What is your asking price?’
Rehman asked for fifty rupees. The solicitor felt that thirty rupees was the correct price to strike a deal. For a while both sides haggled. One craved the money while the other craved the cow. It didn’t take long to seal the deal. It was fixed at thirty-five rupees.
Rehman had made the deal but he was still ensnared by love. He kept standing there for some time lost in thought, then he began to follow Daudayal with the cow slowly.
Then another man said, ‘Hey, I will give you thirty-six rupees. Come with us.’
‘I won’t give you the cow; you can’t force me.’
Another man said, ‘Take forty rupees from me . . . that should make you happy, yes?’ He tried to take the cow from Rehman’s hand, but Rehman did not relent. Finally, everybody left in disappointment.
After a little while Rehman said to Daudayal, ‘Sir, you are a Hindu, you will rear her well and take care of her. All those people are merciless; I wouldn’t have sold her to them for even fifty rupees. You came on time; otherwise they would have snatched the cow away by force. I have fallen into deep trouble, sir, that is why I had to sell the cow. Otherwise I wouldn’t have ever sold her. I have raised her on my own. How could I have sold her to those butchers? Sir, if you feed her oilcakes she will give you ample milk. Even a buffalo’s milk is not as sweet and thick as hers. Sir, I have one more request, tell your herdsman not to ever beat her.’
Daudayal looked at Rehman in astonishment. God! A person of his class has so much goodness and compassion! Even fervent devotees of Lord Shiva and great mahatmas sell cows to brutes to not incur losses of any kind. And this poor man sold the cow to me despite suffering a loss only to ensure she’s not mistreated. The poor also possess such wisdom!
He returned home and gave the money to Rehman. Rehman tied the money in a knot, looked at the cow lovingly once more and took his leave.
Rehman was a poor peasant, and everybody is out to exploit the poor. The landowner had filed a case against him in the court claiming an increased rate of land revenue. Money was required to contest the case in the court. Rehman didn’t have any property except for a pair of oxen. He loved the cow more than his life, but as he couldn’t arrange for the money, he was forced to sell her.2
There were many Muslims living in Pacholi. The route to hajj had opened after many years. During the World War in the West the route had been closed. Men and women started to go on hajj again in hordes from the village. Rehman’s old mother was also preparing to go on hajj. She said to Rehman, ‘Son, I only have one desire left in my heart. I don’t want to leave this world without seeing this desire fulfilled. Allah will reward you for it.’ Devotion to their mothers is a special characteristic of rural people. Earlier, Rehman had failed to collect enough money to send his mother on hajj but now he dared not ignore her command. He thought of borrowing money from somebody. He reasoned with himself, Some I will return after harvesting this season’s sugar cane crop, the rest I will repay next year. By Allah’s grace the sugar cane has grown like never before. This is all because of mother’s prayers. But whom should I ask? I need a minimum of two hundred rupees. I do not even know any moneylenders. The few that we have here are always after their customers’ lives. Maybe I should go to Lala Daudayal. He is better than the rest. But I have heard that he is known to extract his money back as per the deal, he doesn’t relent one bit. If he doesn’t get his money back there is no respite for the customer. He starts a dialogue only after he has filed a lawsuit against the
