The philanthropist

I bet you if there is a noble prize for best cow herding, Alfred noble should definitely consider my owner for the award.

A man as cheerful as his nick name defines, Balay Balay is my house owner. At first glance, his staid face and unkempt looks may bring an aroma of repugnance, but at heart people like Balay Balay are too rare to find. Even rarest is his unconditional love and unfaltering kindness for animals.

He is industrious man possessed with higher caliber. But with no one around to help him with household chores, it becomes grueling to manage everything on his own at times.

Whether or not it is rain or shine, he has no holidays and before the light is out, he is geared up for the day’s work. It begins with warm greetings from the cows. And with genial smile on the face, he milks and treats them to a scrumptious breakfast until their belly paunches out. He hoards some for the calves too. Until there is no sign of satisfaction, he never sets them free. After everything is done it’s time for him to see off. Filling his own tummy comes afterward.

By sundown, when it’s time for the cows to be home, he would ready their feast and wait like a desperate wife for her husband’s arrival from war. He tethers them warm in their adobe baked barn and goes for gardening, next.

It is a rare sight of him to see him whiling away time. However, as the dusk matures into night, he would not miss the attendance in the shop located ground floor of his house.

He orders for locally brewed brand and engages himself in a conversation. Few hours after the tempo of the round has picked up, the medium of his language changes. It would be his Pidgin English dominating the conversation. He barely cares about his audiences who never went to school. One time, he talked on constitution of Bhutan and to put someone in league of conversation to shame, he spoke in English to puzzle the counterpart. As I eavesdrop, I could not help myself burst with laughter.

Though drunk, Balay Balay keeps accurate calculations on the bottles and retires the accomplished day with amusement. Sometimes, he debates a lot over trivial matters to the point of hearing verdict from court if he assume others wrong. And when severely drunk, without a tinge of slightest hesitation, utters Balay Balay the boss, money no problem. Few are the occasions when I see him turn alcoholic from workaholic.

What the man possess is rare in many of us. Whatever ripens in his garden goes for free to anyone who comes to him. Since I am on lease in his house, I am one among few who is enjoying his hard toil. Guilty I feel but he never consent the idea of taking in money when it is from the garden. Lately, it was cucumber that topped my kitchen menu. Thanks to him.

Of all, it is his altruistic disposition that makes his sobriquet, Balay Balay go viral among his friends.