The Happy Shepherd

 

Once I knew a spirited shepherd from the Himalaya, who lived an extremely excited life, though all his compatriots thought he was insane. To him everything was a reason for excitement, merriment and a deep sense of wonder. Though completely illiterate (by our bookish scale) and ignorant of anything outside his village and his grazing ground and the mountains where he lived, he was perhaps one of the wisest people I have ever known. He had cracked the code of a happy life.

 

He would wake up in the morning and worship the sun, with this big gleeful face and sparkling eyes as if he had never seen a sunrise before. And he would declare to no one in particular that what an amazing day it was and how amazing it would be. Then he would light fire, again full of gratitude and prayer to the fire gods, uttering that this was the best fire in the world and then make tea and utter loudly that this tea was better than any beverage in the world, befitting for the gods. He would then guide his flock of goats, sheep and lambs, scattering them far and above through the green fields and he would look at them with such amazement as if he had never seen a goat before. His friends and villagers called him Bhola Ram (simpleton). Since to them only a dimwit can be that happy and excited for no reason at all. This shepherd didn’t care what others called him. He was too happy in his own world.

 

Every little foliage, every rock, every meadow, tarn held wonders for him. Every time he picked up one of his goats, he would have this heavenly bliss in his eyes as if all his dreams had come true. Other shepherds complained of hard life, difficulties, poverty, etc but our Bhola Ram only expressed gratitude and amazement at how wonderful his life was and how fortunate he has always been. While others howled and lamented when one of their flocks would be killed by a leopard or bear, Bhola Ram would only say that the leopard was hungry and it was the goat’s fate to serve his hunger.

 

I had trekked for 8 weeks with this group of shepherds, as they migrated hundreds of kilometers crossing half a dozen snow covered high passes for their summer pastures. Living and following their lifestyle I had learned a lot about life in those few weeks but my greatest lesson was from Bhola Ram. He was my guru. Every day I followed him around, observing keenly how he lived and what he did. What I realized was that he not only lived very much in the moment, in the present, but he lived with a conscious sense of wonder.

 

He was an expert herbalist of those mountains, and knew each flora and fauna like the back of his hand, yet to each one of them he attached the greatest sense of genuine wonder. I had never seen him bored or sad. Every morning he used to wake up before everybody else and would go out and sit on top of some rock, irrespective of how cold it was, and would face east, waiting patiently for the sun to rise. For him the greatest joy was the first sun ray caressing his face.

 

Despite my own happy go lucky life and living in the moment attitude, I did have moments of despair, as I do even now, though very rarely. I just couldn’t figure out this simple shepherd, how he could be so happy, satisfied and cheerful. So I quizzed him at the end of our journey, as I was about to leave their company and head off into the high mountains. And he told me something very simple.

 

I lost my parents to some illness when I was five. My uncle brought me up and my life was harsh. I had nothing in this world. I had to work from morning to evening, trying to please everyone. I had no holidays, no friends, and no one to share my grief with. When I cried, I cried alone. I was sad. I blamed my parents for leaving me alone in this big bad world. And then I realized after few years that by being sad I won’t become happy or achieve anything else. I realized I had to live this life, no matter how I felt about it. And I started accepting everything around me as something joyful, something that gave me a sense of wonder. Soon I realized that what grieved me before, now gave me happiness. I realized it is totally up to me to make my life happy and exciting and wonderful. No one else or nothing else can make it so. It is something that I had to do myself to myself. Thereafter it was easy.

 

I stopped cursing life and others around me. I stopped counting my misfortunes. I started thanking my life that my life was so fortunate. The same things that earlier made me sad, now made me happy. I stopped looking for happiness. I just became happy.

 

Bhola Ram (for I never learned his real name, if he had one) to me remains one of my greatest gurus and influencers. He didn’t look for happiness, he just became happy.

 

That early morning I packed my backpack, and bid goodbye to my friends for 8 weeks. As I left their green pastures for the high snow bound slopes, my friend Bhola Ram came to bid me goodbye. He gifted me a can of pure ghee. As we parted, he clasped my hands and said that I was the best friend he has ever had. I knew he meant it because he must be saying the same thing to everyone he met in life.

 

I never met him again. Yet, today, after a span of three decades I recall his face and his words clearly as if it happened today. This is what Bhola Ram had taught me about life:

 

Live in the present

Be thankful for whatever life gives us

Live with a sense of wonder and purpose

Stop looking for happiness

Just become happy

Note: I did look for Bhola Ram several years later, when I returned to his village. There I learned that the previous year he had presumably perished along with some of his flock when they got caught in a sudden snowfall while crossing a high pass in late autumn. His body was never found. His companions, who managed to escape, went back later but no trace of Bhola was ever discovered. As he had no family or land, no one really cared to look for him any further. He was presumed dead and was ritualistically cremated by his fellow shepherd friends. Wherever he might be today, I am sure during his final moments on earth he was smiling gleefully and was still the happiest person. Few years back I hiked alone to the same pass where Bhola is supposed to have died and looked for vain for any of his mortal remains. But I did find his buoyant spirit lingering amidst those rocks and icy mountains. I perhaps had tears in my eyes, and most of them were out of joy. While descending to the other side I erected a memorial cairn for my friend Bhola. He will never return, but I am sure his happy soul will continue to guide others through these mountains.