Recently, during my visit to Bir with a few friends, we found ourselves captivated by the awe-inspiring para-gliding site of Billing. As we watched the paragliders gracefully soar into the sunset, our eyes wandered towards the nearby pastoral land, where sheep grazed peacefully. Intrigued by the scenic beauty, we decided to hike towards a higher spot offering a better view of the magnificent Dhauladhar mountain ranges behind.
Upon reaching the vantage point, we discovered a quaint bench to rest upon. The sky was full of Paragliders, the last bunch taking off for that day as dusk began to settle, casting a warm glow over the landscape. Then, an old man, a shepherd, appeared before us. He wore a coat and a traditional Pahari topi, and his face bore the signs of life under the sun. With a warm smile, he initiated the conversation, asking us where we were from. One of my friends, Amit, replied, “We are from Dharamshala.” The old man responded, stating that we had travelled from a far-off place.
The shepherd delved further. “What do you do?” he asked. Amit replied, “I am in the army.” The Shephard astutely remarked, “You must be a Subedar by now.” Amit corrected him, stating that he held the rank of Colonel. The old man’s eyes widened, realizing that Amit had a significant post as an officer. The Shephard continued the conversation, asking about Amit’s posting location. Amit mentioned being stationed in Assam, to which Chatru Ram Ji exclaimed, “Ah, they have tea gardens there. I hear they are much larger than the ones in Bir.”
Intrigued by this shepherd’s knowledge of faraway lands, I took the opportunity to engage him in conversation. I inquired about his name, to which he humbly responded, “I am Chatru Ram.” I then asked him about his age, and with a playful smile, he suggested that I subtract two from eighty. He was 78, and he affirmed with a warm expression. Eager to learn more, I asked him about his travels. As a shepherd, he had traversed the entire Himachal region, parts of Punjab, and the bordering areas of Uttar Pradesh and Rajasthan with his flock of sheep. Travelling and herding were his way of life.
Perplexed by his extensive knowledge of Assam, I questioned Chatru Ram Ji’s source of information. He replied, “Wherever I go, I meet new people and engage in conversations. It is through these interactions that I learn.” This struck a chord within me—learning does not solely occur within the confines of classrooms; it is omnipresent, awaiting discovery through everyday experiences. Chatru Ram Ji, with his weathered face and innocent eyes, became a living testament to this profound life lesson.
Curiosity still burning, I inquired about the size of his flock. With a sense of pride, Chatru Ram Ji revealed that he owned approximately 300 sheep. Astonished, my friend Amit couldn’t resist asking about their market value. Chatru Ram Ji calmly replied, “Around Rs. 15,000 each.” Quick mental calculations revealed that his flock was worth a staggering Rs. 45 lakhs.
However, as we bid farewell to Chatru Ram Ji and began our journey back to Bir, we couldn’t help but acknowledge that the richness of his knowledge and warm-hearted nature made him a truly wealthy man.
Reflecting upon our encounter with Chatru Ram Ji, we couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the depth of wisdom we had unexpectedly encountered in a chance meeting. This humble shepherd, who roamed the forests and valleys, possessed a wealth far more significant than material possessions—knowledge and a genuine, kind spirit.
Chatru Ram Ji left an indelible impression on us, reminding us that learning is an ever-present opportunity waiting to be embraced in the most unexpected places.