Ramakrishna – Pandit and Milkmaid – {Ep.265}

Today’s episode is a folk tale popularized by the 19th century guru Ramakrishna Paramhans. This one is about a Pandit who tries to take a milkmaid to task and ends up in the soup. Or to be precise, water

Namaskar and welcome to “Stories From India”. This is a podcast that will take you on a journey through the rich mythology, folklore and history of the Indian subcontinent. I am Narada Muni, the celestial storyteller and the original “time lord”. With my ability to travel through space and time, I can bring you fascinating stories from the past, the present, and the future. From the epic tales of the Mahabharata and Ramayana to the folktales of the Panchatantra to stories of Akbar-Birbal and Tenali Raman, I have a story for every occasion.

The purpose of the stories is neither to pass judgment nor to indoctrinate. My goal is only to share these stories with people who may not have heard them before and to make them more entertaining for those who have.

Today’s Story

In this episode, we’re doing a folk tale. It’s a story popularized by Ramakrishna Paramahamsa the 19th century guru. You probably know of his most famous student – Swami Vivekananda.

Anyway, this story isn’t about Ramakrishna or Vivekananda, it’s specifically a story that the guru told his followers. There is a moral associated with this, but for now, let’s jump in.

The scene is set in a medieval Indian village. The village was a regular functioning village. It had its own Pundit, a scholar, to attend to all their spiritual needs. There was nothing in the rulebook prohibiting a spiritual advisor from also fulfilling the villagers’ physical needs. So the Pandit did that, though to a limited extent. Of the three physical needs – roti, kapda, aur makaan(or food, clothing and shelter), the Pandit’s restaurant and Grocery Stores helped only with the first. The villagers had to figure out clothing and shelter on their own.

There wasn’t much accounting happening here – there was no one to audit the Pundit. Villagers gave freely to the spiritual cause and grudgingly to the restaurant, but they parted with their meager earnings anyway.

In a nutshell, the Pandit made a dashed indecent pile of money. The purveyor of spiritual advice was hoarding material wealth by the truckload, and had a “Let them eat cake” attitude especially towards the lower classes of society. And yet, this Pandit was dependent on a supply chain that featured members of the same lower classes of society. The Pandit needed milk, which was a ubiquitous ingredient in most of the foods his restaurant sold. But he didn’t want to have to maintain cows. So the best solution was to get someone else to deliver milk to him everyday. And just because his connection with the restaurant was obvious to all the villagers, he couldn’t expect them to donate milk. Instead, he got milk from a milkmaid in a neighboring village.

She was happy to provide milk for free, after all she considered it meager in comparison to the spiritual advice she received. Granted it wasn’t 1 on 1 advice, this was more just the Pandit preaching to the crowd, but she still found it helpful. She was a good egg, and worth her salt. Out of gratitude, she wanted to do something for him in return.

The Pandit suggested that he didn’t really need it, but just to do her a favor, he would take the extra milk off her hands. And that he’d need at least 10 liters each day. And that she needed to be there at 4am before dawn. You can probably guess that the real reason was to keep the villagers in the dark. The villagers often regarded him as the big cheese, and the toast of the town and the best thing since sliced bread. He really didn’t want anyone finding out and jeopardizing his plum job.

Things went well for the Pandit after that arrangement. Production costs came down since he was getting milk for free. Not for all the tea in Assam was he ready to terminate this sweet deal he had. Though to be fair, if he had all the tea in Assam already, he might not be worried about 10 liters of milk.

The milkmaid bore the literal and logistical burden of delivering the milk everyday. It was a neighboring village, but there was an entire lake in between. The milkmaid was herself dependent on a boatman to cross the lake everyday. But the boatman was dependable. Until one day he was not. That day, the milkmaid appeared at the lakeshore as usual and was surprised to see the boatman wasn’t there. There was a note pinned to his boat that said he was on PTO that day. He’d decided to take a mental health day. All the repeated ferrying back and forth was getting to him and he needed a change of scenery, even if it was just for one day. So he was off, but he wasn’t heartless. He had arranged for a substitute for his customers, and that substitute would report for duty at 6am. Any inconvenience was deeply regretted. 

She was in a pickle. There wasn’t anything she could do other than waiting for the substitute till 6am. Maybe the Pandit wouldn’t mind if he got his milk a little late. After all, the temple didn’t open until 7am, so maybe there was enough time not to disrupt the day’s services.

It was a good observation and a very rational thought. But the Pandit didn’t think so.

“A 2 hour delay?! You just can’t cut mustard with this Let them eat cake attitude”

The milkmaid apologized, but the Pandit took her explanation with more than a pinch of salt.

The Pandit’s wife tried to change his mind. “This is all a storm in a teacup. Tumne uska namak khaya hain,” she reminded him, meaning he had an obligation towards her. “Namak nahin, doodh,” he corrected.

“Whatever,” the Pandit’s wife glared at him. “Show her how to avoid this in the future. No point in crying over spilt milk”

The Pandit resisted the urge to point out that it was late milk and not spilt milk. He understood his wife’s advice of being forward looking. He was still skeptical of the milkmaid’s ability to follow instruction, because of what he thought was her low profession. “Bandar kya jaane adrak ka swaad” or monkeys can’t appreciate the taste of ginger. The English equivalent is pearls before swine.

But he relented. “My wife has a point. You have to learn to bend your fingers to get ghee out. “Tedhi ungli se ghee nikalta hain” he said, using another popular Hindi saying.

“I thought you wanted Doodh, not Ghee,” the milkmaid asked, puzzled now. Normally, she offered Ghee delivery only at the Gold tier of subscription. Currently whatever the Pandit was getting was freemium milk service.

“You seem to be one sandwich short of a picnic,” he mumbled. “Listen milkmaid, you can’t make an omelet without breaking eggs. You needed to pray to the Gods to get you across. If you couldn’t cross the river, you could have prayed to Vishnu.”

With that very brief and confusing advice, he slammed the door on her face. Because after all, he had to take the milk to his restaurant. The breakfast hours were soon approaching.

The milkmaid went back home, deep in thought.

The Pandit had tried to tell her how to solve her problems, but could it really work? Could she really ask for Vishnu’s help everytime she was stuck? Vishnu, the preserver of the Universe, would he really have the time to help out one person in one tiny corner of an insignificant place in the Universe? It would be like using a sledgehammer to crack open a nut.

But she resolved to try.

The next several days the Milkmaid showed up on time and continued to deliver milk. And then one day, the Pandit expected her to not show up. He had heard it on the grapevine that there was a tornado, and rough waves in the Lake. A very localized tornado in just that specific part of the lake that the milkmaid crossed from, so the boat operator would certainly not be operating any boats the next morning.

Given all that, the Pandit was shocked when his wife announced at 4am that the milkmaid had arrived. “Doodh me kuch kaala hain,” suspected the Pandit. “I will go talk to her, and then Doodh ka Doodh paani ka paani hojayega” meaning he’d solve this mystery right away.

He rushed to the door and challenged the milkmaid. “C’mon spill the beans, how did you get here? There are no boats on the lake right now”

The Milkmaid was unfazed, and remained as cool as a cucumber. “Easy as pie. I followed your advice,” she said.

He didn’t believe her. Was she trying to say she prayed to Vishnu and was able to cross the Lake – a very large lake with rough waves that even the boatmen refused to go out in?

She said she certainly did. The Pandit still didn’t believe her, and insisted on a live demonstration. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, he reasoned. 

They went to the lakeshore, where the milkmaid whispered Vishnu’s name and stepped onto the lake. And miraculously she did not sink! She casually walked on the Lake surface like it was a solid floor.

This was an embarrassing moment for the Pandit and he turned beet red. As the spiritual advisor to the whole village, he was closest to God. He should have been the one to work this out. But it was not too late. He’d master walking on the lake and pass it off as the original miracle. The simple milkmaid wouldn’t object. 

So he stepped forward and was about to try it himself, when the milkmaid tried to caution him.

He was rude in interrupting her and telling her that she couldn’t teach her grandmother how to suck eggs, as the expression goes.

As soon as he stepped onto the Lake, he fell into it. He was in the soup. Or rather, water. The pandit finally had to eat humble pie. His thoughts were on pride, his ego, and to some degree a worry that his dhoti might get wet. He didn’t really think about Vishnu. That’s why he got his just deserts. And in the future, he did soften his tone towards others – considering that he might catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

That’s all for now

Some notes on the show

There is a moral in this story. Ramakrishna intended to show that lip service to God isn’t sufficient, you have to mean it. But there’s a deeper theme here, to not judge people by their social status or birth or profession. I would have said to not judge a book by its cover, but the pundit might prefer phrasing it as not judging a dish by the plate that it is served in

That’s all for now. 

Next Time

In the next episode, we’ll cover the story of Anasuya and how she had the holy trinity of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva as her children.

Feedback

Thank you all for the comments on Social Media and on Spotify’s Q&A! I can’t directly reply to the questions there, but I’ll address them here on this show. Except this time. Because I’m recording this show in advance and I have not seen your comments yet

If you have any other comments or suggestions or if there are particular stories you’d like to hear, please do let me know by leaving a comment or a review on the site sfipodcast.com, or reply to the questions on Spotify Q&A. You can also find me on Instagram and Facebook. You can listen to the show on all podcast apps, and that now includes Youtube. If you want to send me an email it’s stories.from.india.podcast@gmail.com.

Be sure to subscribe to the show to get notified automatically of new episodes.

A big thank you to each of you for your continued support and your feedback.

The music is from Purple Planet.

Thanks for listening and I’ll see you next time!