The Greedy Farmer

The Greedy Farmer

Long ago, in a small village surrounded by golden fields and blue skies, lived a farmer named Hariram. He owned a piece of land that had been passed down for generations. The soil was fertile, and the crops yielded enough to feed his family and sell a little at the market. Hariram was not rich, but he had enough.

Yet Hariram was not content. Every time he went to the market and saw other farmers selling more or earning more, his heart would burn with envy. “If only I had more land,” he would say, “I’d be the richest man in the village.”

One day, a rich merchant visited the village. He was looking for land to invest in, and Hariram saw an opportunity.

“I have a proposal,” said Hariram. “I’ll give you half of my harvest every year if you let me cultivate more land from the forest nearby.”

The merchant, being a businessman, smiled. “Why should I help you become rich?”

“I’ll give you a portion of everything I earn,” Hariram offered eagerly. “You won’t have to do anything!”

The merchant agreed but added one condition: “You may take as much land as you can walk around in a single day—from sunrise to sunset. But if you don’t return to the starting point before sunset, you will lose everything.”

Hariram’s eyes lit up with greed. He thought, I will walk as far as I can and claim the largest piece of land in the village!

The next morning, just as the sun peeked over the hills, Hariram began his journey. He walked swiftly, marking the land with stakes he carried. He passed green fields, crossed streams, and entered untouched forest land. “All this will be mine,” he thought joyfully.

As the sun climbed higher, Hariram didn’t stop. He barely took a break for water. “The more I walk, the more I gain!” he reminded himself.

By noon, his legs ached, and his stomach rumbled, but his mind ignored the warnings. A little more, just a little more, he thought, pushing further.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that Hariram looked at the sun and panicked. It was already beginning to descend, painting the sky in shades of orange.

“I must return to the starting point before sunset!” he gasped.

Now, the journey back began. Hariram ran through the tall grass, stumbled over stones, and splashed through rivers, trying to retrace his steps. Sweat poured down his face, and every muscle screamed in pain.

The sun dipped lower and lower.

People from the village, including the merchant, gathered near the marked starting point. They watched anxiously as the sun neared the horizon.

Just as the final rays were vanishing behind the hills, Hariram came into view—his clothes torn, his body trembling.

With a last burst of strength, he crossed the starting line and collapsed to the ground.

He never got up again.

Hariram had died from exhaustion.

The merchant, standing nearby, shook his head slowly. “He was given a choice—greed or contentment. He chose greed, and it cost him everything.”

The villagers buried Hariram at the edge of the very land he had tried to claim. His final resting place measured just six feet in length—the same as any man’s, no matter how rich.

Moral of the Story:

Greed can lead us to chase more than we need—and in doing so, we risk losing what truly matters. Contentment brings peace; unchecked ambition brings ruin