We called her Gaumata, but did we keep our duty as her children?

As long as the cow gave milk, she was our home's Gaumata. When the milk stopped, we remembered that the village has a gaushala too.

Then a new gaushala was built. At the opening we clapped and read out the names of the donors. One question was left behind that day too. Of the cows this gaushala was built for, how many were once tied in our own courtyards?

Our culture gave the cow the place of a mother. We call her Gaumata with great respect and love. The cow whose milk raised our children, who was the life of our courtyard for years: did our bond grow old the moment she did? She gave her life to us. When the evening of her life came, could we not give her even a little support?

Good gaushalas for abandoned cattle are needed, so they can find shelter and dignity. But can building a gaushala free us of our responsibility? A mother's bond lasts a lifetime, not only for as long as she keeps giving us something. The one we welcomed into our courtyard and called mother, how can we put her out of our hearts in her old age? Until this feeling wakes within us, no number of gaushalas will ever be enough.

The time has come to look within and ask: the one we called Gaumata, did we keep our duty to her as her children?