Dabral Baba and the Three Questions — A Garhwali Folk Tale

Long ago, in the dense forests of the Garhwal Himalaya, near the pilgrim trail that leads to the Panch Kedar shrines, there lived a wise old saint known as Dabral Baba.

Dabral Baba had spent forty years in the mountains — walking barefoot on the icy trails, drinking glacier water, and sleeping under the stars. The mountain villagers said he could hear the language of the snow, understand the speech of rivers, and read the faces of clouds.

One autumn, three young pilgrims from the plains came up the mountain road, eager to visit the sacred temple of Tungnath, the highest Shiva shrine in the world.

The first pilgrim was a wealthy merchant. He wore fine woollen clothes and carried a heavy bag of gold coins to donate at the temple. He walked fast, impatient to reach the shrine before dark.

The second was a scholar who had memorized many scriptures. He carried several thick books and muttered verses to himself as he walked, determined to prove his learning at the shrine.

The third was a simple shepherd boy from a village nearby. He carried nothing but a small clay pot of fresh milk — an offering he wanted to leave for the deity.

As they reached a clearing in the forest, they found Dabral Baba sitting on a flat rock, warming himself in the weak mountain sunlight.

The merchant walked straight past him. But the scholar stopped and said respectfully, "Baba, we are going to Tungnath. Do you have any wisdom to share?"

Dabral Baba looked at the three pilgrims for a long moment.

Then he said: "I have three questions. Whoever answers them may go ahead with a full heart. Whoever cannot answer them should sit with me a while."

The merchant stopped and turned around. "What are the questions?"

Dabral Baba asked: "First — On your way up here, did you notice the old woman sitting by the stone wall at the edge of the village? She was shivering in the cold. Did you do anything for her?"

The merchant frowned. "I was in a hurry. I didn't notice."

The scholar looked uncomfortable. "I was reviewing scripture verses. I must have walked past her."

The shepherd boy said quietly, "Yes, Baba. My mother made an extra roti this morning. I gave it to her."

Dabral Baba nodded slowly. "Second question: On the steep section of the trail, there was a young mountain goat with a thorn stuck in its foot. Did you help it?"

The merchant shook his head.

The scholar looked down at his books.

The shepherd boy said, "Yes, Baba. I stopped and pulled out the thorn. The goat licked my hand."

Dabral Baba smiled gently. "Third question: When you heard the sound of the waterfall just before you entered this forest — what did you feel?"

The merchant said, "Nothing. I was calculating how much to donate at the temple."

The scholar said, "I was thinking about which shloka to recite at the sanctum."

The shepherd boy was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I felt like I wanted to sit down and just listen. It sounded like the mountain was praying."

Dabral Baba stood up slowly. He looked at the shepherd boy and said, "You are already at the temple."

The shepherd boy looked confused. "But Baba, we haven't arrived yet."

Dabral Baba said, "The temple is not made of stone. The deity lives wherever there is kindness to an old woman, compassion for a suffering animal, and the ability to hear the prayer of a waterfall. You have been doing puja all along the way."

The merchant and the scholar stood in silence for a long time.

Then the merchant quietly set down his bag of gold and said to Dabral Baba, "Teach us what this boy already knows."

And Dabral Baba smiled. "That is the beginning of true pilgrimage."