Fear

There was a lion who feared nothing except the crowing of

cocks. A chill would go down his spine whenever he heard a
cock crowing.
One day he confessed his fear to the elephant, who was
greatly amused.
“How can the crowing of a cock hurt you?” he asked the lion.
“Think about it!”
Just then a mosquito began circling the elephant’s head,
frightening him out of his wits.
“If it gets into my ear I’m doomed!” he shrieked, flailing at the insect with his trunk.
Now it was the lion’s turn to feel amused.

Moral: If we could see our fears as others see them we would realise that most of our
fears make no sense!

Filling a Sieve With Water

The Teacher had given a discourse on creative thinking.

Afterwards his disciples approached him and asked him to set
them a problem that required them to think creatively. The sage
gave them a sieve and asked them to fill it with water at the sea,
nearby. They were gone for a long time. Finally he went down to
the beach to see what they were doing, and found them seated
morosely around the sieve.
They scrambled to their feet when they saw him.
“You’ve set us an impossible task, sir,” said the oldest of the
disciples. “It’s just not possible to fill a sieve with water.”
“Are you sure?” asked the Teacher, picking up the sieve.
“Sometimes it helps to step back and view the problem from a different angle.”
He waded into the water and threw the sieve far out into the sea. It sank.
“There!” said the Teacher. “It’s full of water now.”

Cycle of Evil

There was once a king who was so cruel and unjust that
his subjects yearned for his death or dethronement.
However, one day he surprised them all by announcing
that he had decided to turn over a new leaf.
“No more cruelty, no more injustice,” he promised, and
he was as good as his word. He became known as the
‘Gentle Monarch’.
Months after his transformation one of his ministers plucked up enough courage to ask him
what had brought about his change of heart, and the king answered:
“As I was galloping through my forests I caught sight of a fox being chased by a hound. The
fox escaped into his hole but not before the hound had bitten into its leg and lamed it for life.
Later I rode into a village and saw the same hound there. It was barking at a man. Even as I
watched, the man picked up a huge stone and flung it at the dog, breaking its leg. The man
had not gone far when he was kicked by a horse. His knee was shattered and he fell to the
ground, disabled for life. The horse began to run but it fell into a hole and broke its leg.
Reflecting on all that had happened, I thought: ‘Evil begets evil. If I continue in my evil
ways, I will surely be overtaken by evil’. So I decided to change”.
The minister went away convinced that the time was ripe to overthrow the king and seize the
throne. Immersed in thought, he did not see the steps in front of him and fell, breaking his
neck.

— Based on a story in the ‘Tales of Bidpai’, an Arabic version of the Panchatantra.

Saint and Sinner

Anastasius was abbot of a monastery in Egypt. The monastery

had a large collection of books, one among them being a rare
volume, worth a fortune.
One day a visiting monk chanced upon the book and succumbing
to temptation walked away with it. The theft was discovered the
same day and it was not hard to guess who the culprit was but
Anastasius refused to send anyone after the monk for fear that he
might say he had not taken it and add the sin of perjury to that of
theft.
The monk meanwhile was trying to sell the book and eventually
found a buyer, a rich man who asked him to leave the book with
him for a day so that he could get it evaluated.
When the monk had gone, the man hastened to the monastery and showed the book to
Anastasius. The abbot recognized it instantly but did not say anything.
“A monk wants to sell it to me,” said his visitor. “He’s asking for a gold sovereign. You are
knowledgeable about books. Is this book worth that much?”
“It’s worth much much more than a sovereign,” said the abbot. “It’s a valuable book.”
The man thanked the abbot and left. The next day when the monk came, he informed him that
he would like to buy the book and was prepared to pay the price he had mentioned. The monk
was overjoyed.
“Whom did you show it to?” he asked.
“Anastasius, the abbot.”
His visitor turned pale. “A-And what did he say?”
“He said the book was worth a sovereign.”
“And what else?”
“Nothing.”
The monk was both amazed and touched. He realized that the abbot had refused to reclaim
his lost treasure so that he, the thief would not get into trouble. Nobody had ever shown him
such love; nobody had ever behaved so nobly towards him.
“I’ve changed my mind, I don’t want to sell it,” he said and took the book from the man.
“I’ll give you two sovereigns,” said the customer.
The monk walked away without answering. He went directly to the monastery and handed
the book to the abbot, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Keep it,” said Anastasius. “When I learnt you had borrowed it I decided to give it to you.”
“Please take it back,” pleaded the monk, “but let me stay here and learn wisdom from you.”
His wish was granted. He spent the rest of his years in the monastery modelling his life after
that of the saintly Anastasius.
Headstrong Companion

Once upon a time there lived a Bharunda, a bird with two heads. One
day it found a strange fruit on the seashore. It picked it up and started
eating it. The head that was feeding, exclaimed, "Many a sweet fruit
tossed by the sea have I eaten, but this beats them all! Is it the fruit of
a sandalwood tree or that of the divine parijata?"
Hearing this, the other head asked to taste the fruit, but the first head
refused, saying, "We have a common stomach, so there's no need for
you to eat it too. I'll give it to our sweetheart, the Bharundi," and with
that, it tossed the half-eaten fruit to the female.
From that day on, the second head carried a grudge against the first
and waited for an opportunity to take revenge. One day it found a
poison fruit. Picking up the fruit, it said to the first head, "You selfish
wretch! See, here's a poison fruit and I'm going to eat it!"
"Don't do that, you fool!" shrieked the first head, "you'll kill us both!"
But the second head would not listen. It consumed the poison and soon the two-headed bird
was dead.

—A tale from the Panchatantra

Moment of Truth

There was a young student-archer who reached such

proficiency in his art that he could shoot an arrow into a tree
and then cleave that arrow into two with the next shot. He
began to boast that he was a greater archer than his guru.
One day his guru, a venerable old man in his 70's, asked the
youth to accompany him on a trip across the hills. The
journey was uneventful until they came to a deep chasm.
A single log spanned the chasm. The guru walked down to
the centre of the log, unshouldered his bow and taking an
arrow shot it into a tree on the other side. His next shot
cleaved the first arrow into two.
"Now it's your turn," he said, walking back to where his student was standing.
The youth stepped gingerly on the log and very slowly and carefully made his way to the
middle. But his heart was in his mouth. He knew that if he lost his footing, he would plunge
to his death. His hands trembled as he strung an arrow into his bow. Preoccupied with the
danger he was in, he found it hard to focus on the target. Consequently when he let go of the
arrow, it missed the tree altogether. Whimpering, he turned around.
"Help me!" he shouted to his guru. "I'll fall!"
The old man walked up to him, took his hand and stepping backwards led him to safety.
Neither of them said a word on the return journey but the boy had much to think about. He
had realised that to be a master of his art it was not enough to know how to control the bow,
he had to learn how to control his mind too.

The Three Dolls

A sage presented a prince with a set of three small dolls. The

prince was not amused.
"Am I a girl that you give me dolls?" he asked.
"This is a gift for a future king," said the man. "If you look carefully, you'll see a hole in the
ear of each doll."
"So?"
The sage handed him a piece of string.
"Pass it through each doll," he said.
Intrigued, the prince picked up the first doll and put the string into the ear.
It came out from the other ear.
"This is one type of person," said the man. "Whatever you tell him, comes out from the other
ear. He doesn't retain anything."
The prince put the string into the second doll. It came out from the mouth.
"This is the second type of person," said the man. "Whatever you tell him, he tells everybody
else."
The prince picked up the third doll and repeated the process. The string did not reappear from
anywhere else.
"This is the third type of person," said the man. "Whatever you tell him is locked up within
him. It never comes out."
"What is the best type of person?" asked the prince.
The man handed him a fourth doll, in answer.
When the prince put the string into the doll, it came out from the other ear.
"Do it again," said the sage. The prince repeated the process. This time the string came out
from the mouth. When he put the string in a third time, it did not come out at all.
"This is the best type of person," said the sage. "To be trustworthy, a man must know when
not to listen, when to remain silent and when to speak out."

Crooked Howler

A thief hired a room at an inn and stayed there at night.

The next morning when he looked out of his window he
saw the owner of the inn sitting in the courtyard. The man
was wearing an expensive new coat which the thief
decided would look good on himself.
Accordingly he went out and sitting beside the innkeeper,
struck up a conversation with him. Presently he yawned
and then to the innkeeper's astonishment, howled like a
wolf.
"Why did you do that?" asked the innkeeper.
"I have no control over it," said the thief. "If I yawn three
times I actually turn into a wolf. Please don't leave me.
I'm frightened!" And with that he yawned again and let out another howl. The innkeeper
turned pale and got up to go but the thief caught hold of his coat and begged him to stay.
Even as he pleaded, he yawned again. The terrified innkeeper wriggled out of the coat to
which the thief was tightly holding on and ran into the inn and locked himself in. The thief
calmly put on the coat and walked away.
Moral: Don't believe every tale you
hear.

The Miserly Beggar

The king was to pass by a beggar's hut and the man was beside himself with excitement, not
because he was about to see the king but because the king was known to part with expensive
jewels and huge sums of money when moved by compassion.
He saw the king's chariot just as a kindly man was filling his begging bowl with uncooked
rice. Pushing the man aside, he ran into the street, shouting praises of the king and the royal
family.
The chariot stopped and the king beckoned to the beggar.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"One of the most unfortunate of your subjects," said the beggar. "Poverty sits on my doorstep
and follows me about like a dog. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon!"
"Have you nothing for your king except a tale of woe?" said the ruler, putting out his hand.
"Give me something."
The beggar, astonished, carefully picked up 5 grains of rice from his bowl and laid them on
the king's outstretched palm.
The king drove away. The beggar's disappointment was great. He raved and ranted and
cursed the king again and again for his miserliness. Finally, his anger spent, he went on his
rounds.
When he returned home in the evening he found a bag of rice on the floor.
"Some generous soul has been here," he thought and took out a handful of rice from the bag.
To his astonishment there was a small piece of gold in it. He realised then that the bag had
been sent by the king. He emptied the rice on the floor, feeling sure there would be more gold
pieces in it, and he was right. He found 5, one for each grain of rice he had given the king.
"It is not the king who has been miserly," thought the man, sadly. "If I had been generous and
given him the whole bowl of rice, I would have been a rich man today."

Be Wary of Advice

There was a withered tree standing in the corner of a

man's backyard.

"It's unlucky to keep a withered tree," said his neighbour.

"Cut it down before something unpleasant happens."

The man cut down the tree.

His neighbour came with his two sons and asked for and
dragged away the branches for fuel.

"All he wanted was the wood," thought the owner of the tree, ruefully.
"Cutting down the tree may not improve my luck, but it has certainly benefited him."

The Stone in the Desert

An Arab while crossing a desert came across a huge rock half

buried in the sand. Scrawled on the boulder was this
inscription:

TURN ME OVER AND YOU WILL BENEFIT FROM IT

The Arab felt sure there was a great treasure hidden beneath it and worked mightily to turn it
over.
He succeeded after several hours. But there was no treasure there, only an inscription on the
underside of the rock.

The Inscription Was

GREED IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL REMEMBER THIS AND YOU WILL BE A BETTER
MAN.

The Wise Old Man

A wealthy man requested an old scholar to wean his

son away from his bad habits.
The scholar took the youth for a stroll through a
garden. Stopping suddenly he asked the boy to pull
out a tiny plant growing there. The youth held the
plant between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it
out. The old man then asked him to pull out a slightly bigger plant. The youth pulled hard and
the plant came out, roots and all.
"Now pull out that one," said the old man pointing to a bush. The boy had to use all his
strength to pull it out.
"Now take this one out," said the old man, indicating a guava tree. The youth grasped the
trunk and tried to pull it out. But it would not budge.
"I – It's impossible," said the boy, panting with the effort.
"So it is with bad habits," said the sage. "When they are young it is easy to pull them out but
when they take hold they cannot be uprooted."
The session with the old man changed the boy's life.

Cows And Cucumbers

Gopal Bhar lived next door to a poor couple who had a

habit of day-dreaming.
One day the husband said to his wife: "If I had some
money I would buy a few cows."
"Then we would have a lot of milk," said his wife. "I
could make plenty of butter and ghee and we could send
some milk to my sister too."
"Send milk to your sister!" exclaimed her husband. "How
dare you suggest such a thing!"
"But we would have milk to spare," said his wife.
"We'll sell it!" said her husband. "I don't want any more talk on the subject and to make sure
you don't carry milk to her when I'm away, I'm going to break every pot in the house!" And
picking up the four or five pots they had, smashed them on the floor.
Gopal Bhar who was passing by at that time, asked him why he was breaking the pots and
when he learnt the reason picked up a stick and started beating the air with it.
"What are you doing?!" asked his neighbour, puzzled.
"Driving away your cows!" said Gopal. "They've eaten the cucumbers in my garden."
"Eaten you cucumbers!" exclaimed the other man, indignantly. "But you don't even have a
garden!"
"I'm going to have one soon," said Gopal, "and I'm going to grow cucumbers in it," and he
began hitting out with the stick again.
The neighbours finally realised that Bhar was trying to show them how foolish it was to live
in a world of make-believe and felt ashamed of themselves.

An Ascetic Returns Home

A young ascetic sitting in meditation under a tree was

splattered by the droppings of a bird.

He looked up angrily at the culprit and such was the intensity of

his wrath that the bird was reduced to ash.

His concentration disturbed, the ascetic got up and went in

search of food. He knocked at the door of a house but there was
no answer. He knocked again and the lady of the house shouted
that she was coming. Presently she came out with food and
seeing that he was annoyed at having had to wait so long,
smiled and said: "Please don't try to burn me with your angry glance like you did that bird.
My dharma as a housewife is first to take care of the needs of my family before attending to
the needs of others."

The ascetic realised that she was no ordinary woman and was ashamed of himself. He asked
her to teach him what dharma was. She said he should see Dharma Vyadha.

The ascetic went in search of Dharma Vyadha expecting to find a venerable sage but the man
turned out to be a meatseller.

Dharma Vyadha made him wait while he served his customers. When the ascetic showed
signs of impatience, the meatseller smiled and said: "Just as the woman's first duty was to her
family, my first duty is to my customers."

So the ascetic waited. When the last of his customers had gone, the meatseller turned to the
ascetic and invited him home.

When they reached Dharma Vyadha's house the ascetic was again made to wait while his host
lovingly attended to his parents. It was quite some time before the meatseller could return to
his guest but the young man showed no trace of anger. A transformation had come over him.

"Now I know what dharma is," he said, rising and bowing to the meatseller.

Giving up the path of asceticism he returned home and begged forgiveness of his parents for
having deserted them in their old age.

"I seek your blessings," he said, "to give me strength

to do my dharma."

The Night Raider

One day Dala Tarwadi's wife told her husband she would like to make brinjal sambhar and
asked him to get a brinjal. Dala Tarwadi stole into Vasaram Bhuvo's field where brinjals
grew in abundance. But he did not just take one and run. He was a man of integrity and felt
that he should ask permission to take the vegetables. So crouching beside the brinjal plants he
whispered:

"Field, field, may I take a brinjal?"

Then answering for the field replied: "Why just one, dear Tarwadi? Take ten or twelve."

Then he took a dozen brinjals and sneaked out of the field. A few days later he raided the
field again. And then once more.

The owner of the field, Vasaram Bhuvo, a giant of a man and the most hard-working farmer
in the village realised that somebody was stealing his brinjals and began to keep a watch on
his field. One night he saw Tarwadi sneak in and followed him. Tarwadi, unaware that he had
an audience, as usual asked for and gave himself permission to take the brinjals. But before
he could touch them, Vasaram caught hold to him and carried him away. He dumped him at
the edge of a pond.

"Pond, pond," said Vasaram, "how many times should I dip this wretch into your water?"

And answering for the pond, replied: "Not just once, dear Bhuvo. Dip him into it a hundred
or two hundred times or more."

When Tarwadi staggered home later that night he was soaking wet --but he was cured of his
thieving ways for ever.