With a heart heavy with the weight of her promise, the cow Nanda stood before the tiger and declared solemnly, “If I do not return as I have sworn, may I be stained by the most grievous of sins—the sins of hunters, outcastes, or poisoners. If I break my word, may the guilt of those who harm cows or beat the sleeping come upon me. If I do not return, may the sin of one who, after giving his daughter in marriage, seeks to give her again to another, taint me. Or, may I bear the sin of a man who forces unfit bullocks to pull a load, or who interrupts the telling of a sacred story. If I do not return, let me be marked by the sin of turning away a guest from my home in disappointment. By all these dreadful sins, I swear to you, I will come back as promised.” Hearing these earnest oaths, the tiger replied, “By these vows, Dhenuka, you have gained our trust. Yet, know this: even if you think that, having left, you might deceive me, some would claim there is no sin in breaking an oath. In matters involving women, marriages, the release of cows, or at the moment of death, trust is not always kept. In this world, there are those who, though ignorant, think themselves wise and will twist your mind with their cunning, as if spinning it upon a wheel. With false arguments and stories, veiled by ignorance, such men—unskilled in the true scriptures—lead others astray. Clever people can make the false seem true, just as a skilled painter creates the illusion of depth on a flat surface. “Most people, after achieving their goal, forget their benefactor, just as a calf abandons its mother when the milk runs dry. I see no one in this world who truly repays a kindness; once their aim is fulfilled, their mind moves elsewhere. In earlier times, sages, gods, demons, and men took oaths to accomplish their aims, but now, such vows are not valued. Even if someone swears truthfully before gods, fire, or a guru, King Yama will still take away half of his merit. So, do not let your mind be deceived by mere oaths. You have shown your sincerity—now act as you see fit.” At this, Nanda responded humbly, “So it is, great sage! Who could possibly deceive you? In truth, whoever seeks to deceive another only deceives himself.” The tiger then said, “O cow, go now and see your beloved calf. Let him suckle your milk and receive your loving licks upon his head. Visit your mother, your brother, friends, and kin. Place truth above all and return quickly, as you have sworn.” Thus, having taken her solemn oath, the truthful cow was released by the lord of beasts. Filled with love for her calf, she departed, her face wet with tears, her body trembling and stricken with grief. She let out a deep, mournful lowing, as if she had fallen into a vast ocean of sorrow. Like an elephant trapped by the foot in a muddy pit, unable to save herself, she lamented again and again. At last, she reached the cow-pen by the golden river. Hearing her calf’s plaintive cries, she rushed straight to him. As she approached, her calf, his eyes brimming with tears, anxiously questioned her, “Mother, I do not see you at ease today. There is no steadiness in your gaze; you seem frightened and troubled.” Nanda gently urged, “Drink, my son, your nourishing milk. If you ask the reason for my distress, I cannot tell you. Satisfy yourself as you wish, for this is your last and rare chance to be with your mother. After today, whose milk will you drink in the morning? My child, I must leave you, bound by my oaths. I must give my life to the hungry, thirsty tiger.” Hearing these sorrowful words, the calf replied with devotion, “Mother, wherever you must go, I will go with you. It would be right for me to die at your side. If I remained alone, suffering, I could not live without you. If the tiger kills me along with you in the forest, surely I will attain the highest destiny, reserved for those devoted to their mothers. Therefore, I will go with you, without doubt. Or, mother, you remain here and let those oaths be upon me instead. What use is life to one separated from his mother? In the forest, who will protect me, always orphaned? There is no relative like a mother for the young who live on milk. There is no protector, no refuge, no affection, no face, and no god like a mother in this world or the next. This is the supreme duty established by the Lord of Creatures: sons who remain always with their mothers attain the highest state.” But Nanda replied gently, “My death alone is ordained, my son; you must not come. The death meant for one being does not fall upon another. This is your mother’s last and highest message to you: remain here and follow my words. Later, you may serve me again. Whether you are in water or on land, do not be careless, my child. All beings perish from carelessness, without doubt.” Thus, the cow, bound by her vow and her love, prepared to fulfill her promise, while her calf, heartbroken, listened to her final words of wisdom and love.