“My friend it’s time for me to tell you a story a good buddy of mine shared with me a long time ago. It’s about consciousness.” John cocked his head to the right to face Den. He began. “There were four villages. I’ll call them Villages A, B, C and D. Of all these villages, only Village C people dressed beautifully, and they became the envy of other villagers. One day a witch from Village B was so green with envy that she decided to cast a spell in the well that village C drank water from. So everyone in the village started drinking the water except the King who was away on a sacred and secret mission. When he came back, instead of seeing his people with their elegant attires, they were stark naked, dancing to welcome him. The king for some reason knew what the witch had done, but didn’t know how it would affect his people. And the spell couldn’t be broken just like that. It would take some time; some very long time.” “What did the King do?” Den was captivated by the story. “At that time there was nothing he could do.” John went on. “The king continued to dance with them as if nothing had happened. Then suddenly one villager noticed something strange with their beloved king. He was wearing a gorgeous attire! She shouted, ‘the king is mad, the king is mad, oh, the king is mad.’ The drums went dead, silence turned into an eerie sound. If a pin dropped the deaf would hear it hitting the ground. The joyous dance froze in time. It was as if time itself stood still, the dust that rose with every welcoming step defied gravity, it wouldn’t rejoin mother earth. Everybody and everything knew something was wrong. All eyes were staring at the king. The king looked like a double-headed ghost that must be rid of or made human again. And all of a sudden they all shouted in unionism, ‘the king is mad…the king is mad.’ The earth shook to the heavens, the angels moved nervously around, waiting to see what would happen next. But the unexplainable thing was that their eyes and hearts were filled with genuine sympathy, love and care. Improbable as it might sound. “So, they rallied around and discussed what to do, how to make the king sane. They gave the king three days to be normal or they would elect another king like them, naked. The herbalists went to work on the poor king. The king pleaded for seven days because by that time he would be able to reverse the spell. But the crowd shouted only three days. So they took the king to his palace and started treating him of his illness. On the second day, the king thought long and hard about it, couldn’t sleep, nothing was coming to him how to solve the problem in the short time given. “There are unwritten laws to be followed in this world. Certain things you can’t rush, you just have to watch them play themselves out. Or it will be like rushing a cup of water down the throat of a man dying of thirst, you will kill him faster than a speeding bullet to his thirsty heart. “On the third day the king had to come out to speak to the people, and if the villagers found him insane, he wouldn’t be fit to lead them anymore or could be killed. The king came out on the appointed day; fully dressed. There was a ghostly silence amongst the people. The herbalists had failed. The gods had abandoned them. The king was beyond redemption. A new king must be elected. Wouldn’t have a deranged king on the throne or the land would not be fruitful, women wouldn’t give birth, men wouldn’t be men anymore, volcanoes would erupt, the earth would swallow people, goats would turn into lions and all hell would break loose on earth. Children’s growth would be stunted, prosperity would vanish, and their land wouldn’t be blessed. “As they were coming to dethrone him, he began peeling off one by one his eye-catching attire until he stood there naked, stark naked. In this area he wasn’t very gifted. Then all was well in the land of ignorance. Sanity had been restored. Thanks to the gods. Rain would fall in time now. Harvest would be bountiful and joy would spread all over the land. The people would retain their purity of blood; no outsiders would invade their land and corrupt them with new and better ideas. The crowd cheered, the drums sounded and the villagers started dancing, happy that their king was no longer mad. “That’s man as man in a nutshell! Sanity is measured by numbers in man’s world.” OUTGROWING FEAR-CEASE DRINKING FROM THE WELL,PG,64.
Posted on: Fri, 27 Jun 2014 21:58:02 +0000
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