The Barn Story

When I was little, my dad would visit a nearby barn every month to feed the cows jaggery, flour, and other treats. He would sit beside them, brushing their backs and whispering gentle words. I never understood it. I’d think, why cows when there are so many humans who need help? Plus, cows looked gigantic to me back then. I stayed home, safe and small.

Growing up reshaped those thoughts. I realized there is a special joy in being part of someone else’s happiness. In Hindu culture, cows are symbols of selfless love, motherhood, and giving. They nourish without expecting anything in return, a living form of abundance and compassion. Caring for them is considered a form of seva, a gesture of pure kindness rooted in tradition. So I started accompanying my dad, not every month, but often enough for my heart to understand why he did this.

Feeding the cows jaggery, sitting quietly beside them, or playing with the mischievous calves made me feel grounded. My dad would tell me how cows are believed to have a pure aura that heals, how being around them can soothe the mind, and how they embody a maternal presence that brings emotional comfort.

Last winter, the caretaker had to leave suddenly. Night was falling. The cows had no food prepared. So my dad and I drove to the barn around 9 pm. In the cold darkness, we mixed flour, straw, and water to create their meal. The barn stood in the middle of nowhere, shadows dancing in silence, but we stayed until every cow was fed and calm.

We returned home close to midnight, exhausted but glowing with quiet pride. That night taught me something priceless. Service doesn’t always need applause. Sometimes it’s just love in its purest form: feeding a hungry soul, honoring tradition, and discovering courage where fear once lived.