The King's Wake-Up Call

Once upon a time there was a prince who caught a quirky disease from his healthy father, the King.
The King was approaching the end of his reign. As he lay on his death-bed, blind and sick, he uttered, ‘You may be weak in body, but still be tough on your enemies within. Be vigilant about the slightest danger to your suzerainty…’ It seemed he wanted to say a word more but his breath had run out. A hard look came upon the prince’s face as he heard these words.
The Prince had been loved by many, though he displayed a cruel streak sometimes, like when he had had a garden-hand tied to a tree and flogged for going away for a quick smoke on the sly. On becoming the king, this demon in him usurped the throne. As the demon grew in stature, the Prince’s body began to wither. He started to hate everyone within sight.
His palace guards and ministers bore the brunt of his hate. Some were executed, some exiled. Others soon learnt to tuck their hatred within, say a quick ‘yes’ and run away.
There was a young minister who refused to hate him and instead, advised him gently to restrain his hatred. The King bludgeoned him on his head for his services and had him hanged after a few days. His body was thrown away for the dogs and carrion birds.
As the hatred consumed the king’s body, he ordered his court magicians and ministers to brew for him many rare elixirs and potions to invigorate him.
Now, it is well known that it is love which really invigorates. A love-filled person may sometimes look weak and withered but works real wonders, while a hate-filled body may be invigorated by costly elixirs but becomes like a fattened pig for the gluttonous demon of hate.
Soon he was getting bored and furious at not getting anybody standing long enough before him for him to hate and subdue. He started missing that young minister. He started hating him now for dying. How dare he died on the gallows and stayed dead ever since. How nice it would have been to be hanging him every day.
Finally one fine morning, cursing the morning for being fine, he mounted his chariot and whipped his horses hard. They galloped in panic to where their whims took. The king found himself in a graveyard. A white face on the ground seemed to be laughing at him. Livid with anger, the king went for a closer look. It was a bleached skull. He noticed a dent in it. In a flash of fury he recognized his young minister’s bludgeoned head.




He gazed at it for a moment with hatred welling. Then with an explosive rage, he kicked it hard with a wild aim.
It flew and hit one of the horses of the king’s chariot square on its eye. The same instant, the king’s kicking feet felt a sharp stab of pain. He stumbled and fell. Next instant, hard horse hooves and wheels battered his head. A ghostly voice wailed, ‘You poor king, it was the enemies within your mind that he wanted you to be wary of!’
The King woke up to find his kingdom gone. But he set himself to overcome his setback. Come what may, if it takes eons, so be it, he would win an empire instead, for now he had spotted his enemy and was sure of his steady aim. He gritted his teeth. Then he did a thing he had not done for years. He smiled. It was a sorry smile that was aimed at himself.

Swami Sampurnananda
31 July 2006, Old Math, Belur Math

Exercise for the student:

Morals of the story :

1. Save your last words for the ears of God in silence. Otherwise, you may end up doing more harm than good.
2. If you don’t spare time to understand a thing, you will then be taught it the hard way.
3. A real minister will minister even from beyond the grave.
4. ………..
5. …………..