The Brahmin and the Goat

In a small village nestled beside the sacred Ganges River, there lived a learned Brahmin named Deva Sharma. He was known throughout the region for his wisdom, his devotion to the scriptures, and his generous heart. Every morning, he would wake before dawn to perform his prayers and meditation, and every evening, he would teach the village children about dharma and righteousness.

One day, Deva Sharma decided to travel to the neighboring village to perform a special ceremony for a wealthy merchant family. As payment for his services, they gifted him a magnificent goat – a beautiful, healthy animal with gleaming white fur and bright, intelligent eyes. The goat was so fine that it could easily feed his family for many days during the upcoming festival season.

“What a wonderful goat!” Deva Sharma exclaimed with joy, gently patting the animal’s head. “You are truly a blessing from the gods.”

He carefully tied a rope around the goat’s neck and began his journey home through the winding forest path. The goat walked obediently beside him, occasionally bleating softly as if sensing its master’s contentment.

Unbeknownst to the Brahmin, three cunning rogues had been watching from the shadows. They had seen the merchant’s generous gift and immediately began plotting to steal the valuable animal through trickery rather than force.

“That’s a fine goat,” whispered the first rogue, a thin man with shifty eyes named Kalu. “It would fetch a good price at the market.”

“But we cannot simply steal it from a Brahmin,” said the second rogue, a stout fellow called Motu. “He would report us to the village chief, and we would surely be punished.”

The third rogue, an elderly man with a grey beard named Chandu, smiled cunningly. “My friends, there are more ways than one to skin a cat. Let us use our wits instead of our strength. I have a plan that will make the Brahmin give us the goat willingly.”

Chandu explained his clever scheme to his companions. They would take different positions along the forest path and, one by one, approach the Brahmin with the same bizarre claim. Through repetition and apparent consensus, they would plant doubt in the holy man’s mind.

The first rogue, Kalu, positioned himself further ahead on the path. When Deva Sharma approached, Kalu stepped out from behind a tree and greeted him politely.

“Namaste, respected Brahmin-ji,” Kalu said, bowing deeply with his hands pressed together. “I hope your journey has been pleasant.”

“Namaste, my son,” replied Deva Sharma warmly. “Yes, the gods have blessed me with a beautiful day and safe travels.”

Kalu looked confused and glanced at the goat with apparent concern. “Forgive me for asking, Brahmin-ji, but why are you carrying a dog? Is it not considered impure for someone of your high caste to touch such an animal?”

Deva Sharma laughed heartily. “My dear fellow, I think your eyes need checking! This is not a dog – it is a fine goat that was gifted to me for performing sacred ceremonies.”

Kalu shrugged apologetically. “Perhaps you are right, sir. My vision is not what it used to be. Please forgive my mistake.” He bowed again and continued on his way, but his words had planted the first seed of doubt in the Brahmin’s mind.

As Deva Sharma continued walking, he found himself glancing down at his goat more frequently. “Surely this fellow was mistaken,” he muttered to himself. “This is clearly a goat. See how it bleats? Dogs do not make such sounds.”

A mile further down the path, the second rogue, Motu, appeared from behind a large boulder. He too greeted the Brahmin respectfully.

“Namaste, learned one,” Motu said. “I see you are traveling with… is that a pig you’re leading?”

This time, Deva Sharma’s confidence wavered slightly. “A pig? No, no, this is a goat. A beautiful white goat.”

Motu looked more closely and shook his head with certainty. “Respected sir, with all due respect, that is definitely a pig. See its snout? Its body shape? I have raised pigs all my life – I know one when I see one. It is very strange to see a holy Brahmin leading such an unclean animal.”

“But… but this cannot be,” stammered Deva Sharma, now truly confused. “Two people cannot both be wrong, can they?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I only speak what I see,” Motu replied with apparent sincerity. “Perhaps someone has played a trick on you?”

After Motu departed, Deva Sharma stopped walking and knelt down to examine his animal more carefully. The goat looked back at him with its gentle brown eyes and bleated softly, nuzzling against his hand as it had done all morning.

“You are still a goat to me,” he whispered, but his voice lacked conviction. A terrible doubt was growing in his heart.

When the third rogue, Chandu, appeared near a small stream where Deva Sharma had stopped to drink water, the Brahmin was already in a state of considerable confusion.

“Good day, holy sir,” Chandu said, approaching with a worried expression. “I hope you will not take offense at my words, but I feel I must warn you. There is a village nearby where a terrible disease has broken out among the cattle. I notice you are leading a calf that appears to be sick. You should be very careful – such diseases can spread to humans as well.”

“A calf?” Deva Sharma’s voice was barely a whisper. “First they said it was a dog, then a pig, and now you say it’s a calf? What is happening to me?”

Chandu looked at him with feigned sympathy. “Three different people have told you three different things? Oh my! Perhaps you have been cursed or enchanted. Such strange transformations are not unknown in these mystical forests. You should rid yourself of this creature immediately before the curse spreads to you!”

The seed of doubt that had been planted by the first rogue had now grown into a mighty tree of confusion. Deva Sharma looked at his goat with new eyes, and for a moment, in his bewildered state, he could almost see it as something else entirely.

“You may be right,” he said slowly. “Three people cannot all be wrong. I must have been bewitched. The gods are testing me, and I have failed to see the truth.”

With trembling hands, he untied the rope from around the animal’s neck. The goat, sensing something was wrong, bleated plaintively and tried to follow him, but Deva Sharma waved it away.

“Go, strange creature, whatever you are! I will not risk bringing a curse upon my family!”

He hurried away down the path, leaving the confused goat standing alone by the stream. The three rogues, who had been watching from hiding, quickly emerged and claimed their prize.

“Easier than taking sweets from a child!” laughed Kalu as they led the goat away to sell at the market.

“The power of suggestion is truly mighty,” chuckled Motu. “A wise man became a fool with just a few words.”

“Remember this lesson well,” said Chandu wisely. “Sometimes the greatest weapon is not a sword or a stick, but the doubt you can plant in another’s mind.”

Meanwhile, Deva Sharma arrived home empty-handed and dejected. When his wife asked about the goat he was supposed to bring, he told her the strange tale of his encounter with the three men.

His wife listened with growing amazement and then burst into laughter. “My dear husband,” she said, “you have been the victim of the oldest trick in the book! Those three men were obviously working together to steal your goat through deception.”

The truth hit Deva Sharma like a thunderbolt. He slapped his forehead in dismay. “How could I have been so foolish? I, who teach others about wisdom and discernment, was deceived by such a simple trick!”

“The fault was not in your intelligence, my dear,” his wife said gently, “but in your trusting nature. You believed that no one would lie to a holy man, especially not three separate people. But evil exists in this world, and sometimes it wears the mask of sincerity.”

From that day forward, Deva Sharma became known not only for his learning and piety, but also for his practical wisdom. He would often tell this story to his students, teaching them an important lesson: “Trust in others is a virtue, but blind trust without verification can lead to folly. When something seems too strange to be true, it probably is. And remember – even the wisest person can be deceived if they let doubt overcome their own clear judgment.”

The tale of the Brahmin and the goat spread throughout the land, serving as a warning to all who heard it. It reminded people that evil often works not through force, but through the manipulation of truth and the planting of doubt in honest hearts.

And though Deva Sharma never saw his goat again, he gained something far more valuable – the wisdom to distinguish between genuine concern and clever deception, a lesson that served him well for the rest of his days.