Our Mindset Episode 53
The guests didn’t arrive at six as promised. They came only after dark, bringing the heifer with them.
They said, “When I got home, my father had taken the cattle out to graze. He got back late, which delayed me too.”
The kids lit up with joy when they saw the heifer. They exclaimed, “Let’s name her Gangu!”.
The guests tied her up in the shed themselves. “We’re in a hurry,” they said. “No need for tea—we have to get back right away.”
We trusted them, and because of that, we didn’t examine the heifer closely.
The next day, Balu came by and asked, “Why did you sell the baby goats so soon? They were still young.”
I told him what had happened the day before and took him to the shed to show him the heifer.
He asked, “Why is her tail so short?” He went closer to check and found a hard lump in it. “This heifer has a condition called bhirud,” Balu said. “You’ve been tricked. That’s probably why no one else wanted her—so they dumped her on you.”
I had never heard of bhirud before. It was completely new to me.
Balu explained, “Her tail will never grow longer. In fact, it’ll only get thinner. If you try to sell her, no one will take her—not to raise anyway. They might take her for slaughter, but otherwise, you’ll be stuck taking care of her for life. You should’ve checked her tail last night.”
That’s when it all started to make sense—why the guests came after dark, why they rushed off right after dropping her off, and why they insisted on tying her up themselves. They knew no one would buy her, so they passed her off to us.
We were like that drum left in the village temple—anyone could come by and beat it.
There wasn’t a single relative of the groom who had treated us honestly.
Balu said, “I know a guy in the village who can treat the tail. I’ll have him come by in the morning to apply medicine.”
After he left, my husband and I got into a big argument. I said, “Didn’t you notice anything? You’ve raised buffaloes before. How did you miss the condition in her tail? You trust people too easily and they take advantage of you! Call them right now and tell them to bring back our two baby goats and take their heifer back.”
But even after all the fighting, he didn’t make the call. He said, “The medicine will help. Her tail will get better.”
No matter how much people wronged him, he never wanted to hurt anyone in return. That’s why everyone thought he was the good one—and I was the bad one.
I told him, “Fine, don’t make the call. But I’m not paying the remaining ₹2,000. And from now on, wear socks and shoes when working in the field—I’m not doing your work anymore.”
He replied, “I’ll ask Mangu to bring me boots. Until then, keep working.”
All I could think was—what if he had just worn boots in the first place?
The next morning, the man Balu mentioned came by. He slit the tail open and packed it with some kind of medicine. Surprisingly, the heifer didn’t cry or resist. I couldn’t bear to watch, so I stepped away and stood at a distance.