Tale-1

This is a story I read years back while in class 7 or 8. Baba Bharati was a sage with great knowledge of Ayurved who lived in his ashram somewhere near some village. Apart from praying God and treating patients, his only passion lay in his sturdy horse which was loved by him almost like his son. The Baba would daily get up at dawn, pat his huge sturdy horse and ride it for a couple of miles to provide it proper exercise. Needless to say that he provided choicest fodder and food to his dear horse. The area where the Baba lived was under constant terror of a dacoit, Khadg Singh. One day it so happened that the dacoit chanced to visit Baba’s ashram where he saw the horse. He just fell in love with that sturdy animal. He insisted upon the Baba to hand the horse over to him saying that such a well built horse was fit to live with a thakur like him and not a hermit. On this, the Baba retorted,” I am afraid, thakur, I can’t give you my horse. Its dear to me like my son. Even if you opt to pay me a huge price for it, I would not yield. Please leave this place. “ The terrible dacoit grinned and said, “ If you don’t hand this horse to me voluntarily, I can pretty easily snatch it from you as you know my name.” The Baba retorted, “ And for that, you may as well kill me after wrestling with me if you so opt. Shoot away, man.” Khadg Singh at that moment was in no mood to pick up a physical scuffle. However, prior to leaving, he said, “ Baba, this horse is already mine. It’s only a matter of time when it actually comes down to my den.” Grinning, the dacoit left the ashram casting of course a lustful glance on the horse. Baba Bharati was real scared of this threat. He knew the might of this dacoit. Hence, he since that moment, stood on constant vigil to protect his horse…day in and day out… in night, before day break, always conscious. Days passed, months rolled. There was no trace of the dacoit. Baba too was feeling a bit relaxed thinking that the dacoit might have dropped the idea. One day, he was summoned from a 10 miles distant village to check a patient. Baba set off for the village on his dear horse. On way, he got a mango groove where lay a beggarly leper writhing in pain. The kind Baba asked him why he lay there. The beggar said that he was going to his nephew incidentally in the same village where Baba was heading. The Baba, kind as he was, told him that in that physical condition, he could not even move, let alone, reach the village. He volunteered him some space on his horse so that he could reach his relatives easily. Baba physically picked up the leper and seated him on the horse. Suddenly, things changed. The beggar threw away his tattered robe, kicked up the horse and darted off almost throwing a howling laughter on the Baba. “ I had already told you that this horse would be mine. Now get back, you old man and pray God.” So, the beggar was Khadg Singh, the dacoit. Baba harkened him. “ Khadg Singh, just hault for a moment and hear me. I will not demand the horse.” Khadg Singh finding himself in a better strategic position felt no harm in halting. “ Blurt, old man, and be quick.” Baba Bhararati told the dacoit, “ You may take away the horse but for God sake, never tell this incident out to any one.” “ But why,” asked the dacoit. “ If you tell it out, people will lose all faith on poor, hapless men and no one will come ahead to help beggars and lepers, “ said the Baba and turned back. Khadg Singh reached his place with the horse but his conscience was pricking him. “ How great the Baba is and how mean, I am. I am a dacoit, not a cheat.” Night fell. He had decided. Once again, he reached the ashram riding the horse, found the ever vigilant Baba sleeping like a child happily unaware of his lost horse,tied the horse’s rope to the same point where it usually stood and sneaked out.