Ten Chinese farmers were working in a field when the sky suddenly darkened.
There was thunder and lightning. Rain began to fall. The farmers, holding on
tightly to their large straw hats, ran for shelter to the ruins of an old
temple nearby.
Lightning flashed again and again, each time momentarily lighting up the
interior of the crumbling edifice in which the farmers were sheltering. The
thunder shook the walls.
“The gods are angry with us,” said one of the men, his voice trembling in
fear.
“Why?” asked another.
“Obviously there’s a sinner amongst us!” screamed a third farmer, his voice
shrilled with panic. “We must find him and throw him out lest we all
perish!!”
“I have an idea,” said a fourth man. “Let us all hold our hats outside the
window. Let the gods show us the sinner.”
So they held their hats outside the window. Immediately lightning crackled,
and one of the hats was reduced to ash. The owner of the hat was a quiet,
middle aged man who had not uttered a word till then. Now he pleaded with
his comrades to protect him.
“I’ve a wife and three children and aged parents to support,” he said. “What
will happen to them if I die?”
But the other farmers were merciless.
“Out! Out with you!” They cried, and lifting him threw him out of the
temple.
The man scrambled to his feet and ran to the shelter of a tree some distance
away.
Hardly had he reached the tree when the lightning struck. It hit the temple,
which collapsed killing all nine men in it.
Till then they had been protected by the presence of the only good man
amongst them.
{taken from a fb post of sanjeev chandra}
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
Story - The King and the Sage
There once was a king who led his mighty army across the snowy peaks that bounded his kingdom, into his neighbor's realm.
On the lofty pass thick with snow, he saw a mendicant or ascetic sitting on a bare rock, with his head between his knees evidently to protect it from the chill wind that cut across the gap in the peak. He had no clothes on his body. The king was overcome with pity; he took off his own shawl and coat and offered them to the Yogi (ascetic; one who has mastered the senses and the mind).
The Yogi refused to accept them, for , he said "God has given enough clothing to guard me against the heat and cold. He gives me all that I need. Please give these to some one who is poor". The King was surprised at these words. he asked him where that clothing was. The Yogi replied "God himself has woven it for me; I am wearing it since birth and will wear it until the grave. Here it is, my skin! Give this coat and shawl to some mendicant beggar, some poor man". The king smiled for, who can be poorer than he, he thought. He asked him, "But where can I find a poor man?"
The Yogi asked him , where he was going and why. He said, "I am going into the realm of my enemy so that I can add his kingdom to my own". The Yogi it was who smiled now. He said, "If you are not satisfied with the kingdom you have and if you are prepared to sacrifice your life and the lives of these thousands to get a few more square miles of land, certainly, you are much poorer than I. So offer the clothes to yourself. You need them more than I do".
At this the King was greatly ashamed and he understood the futility of fame and fortune. Returning to his own capitol, he thanked the Yogi for opening his eyes to his own innate poverty. Contentment is the most precious treasure, he realized.
On the lofty pass thick with snow, he saw a mendicant or ascetic sitting on a bare rock, with his head between his knees evidently to protect it from the chill wind that cut across the gap in the peak. He had no clothes on his body. The king was overcome with pity; he took off his own shawl and coat and offered them to the Yogi (ascetic; one who has mastered the senses and the mind).
The Yogi refused to accept them, for , he said "God has given enough clothing to guard me against the heat and cold. He gives me all that I need. Please give these to some one who is poor". The King was surprised at these words. he asked him where that clothing was. The Yogi replied "God himself has woven it for me; I am wearing it since birth and will wear it until the grave. Here it is, my skin! Give this coat and shawl to some mendicant beggar, some poor man". The king smiled for, who can be poorer than he, he thought. He asked him, "But where can I find a poor man?"
The Yogi asked him , where he was going and why. He said, "I am going into the realm of my enemy so that I can add his kingdom to my own". The Yogi it was who smiled now. He said, "If you are not satisfied with the kingdom you have and if you are prepared to sacrifice your life and the lives of these thousands to get a few more square miles of land, certainly, you are much poorer than I. So offer the clothes to yourself. You need them more than I do".
At this the King was greatly ashamed and he understood the futility of fame and fortune. Returning to his own capitol, he thanked the Yogi for opening his eyes to his own innate poverty. Contentment is the most precious treasure, he realized.
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