TOO
MUCH KNOWLEDGE MAKETH FOOLS
Read the passage.
Once upon a time, there
were four youths studying under the famous professor Disaparmauk of Taxila.
They all came of rich families from different lands. Each followed his natural
bent and specialized in different branches of study. One studied music and
dancing; another studied medicine; another studied astrology; and the fourth,
philosophy.
After studying for
three years, they were considered proficient in their respective subject, and
the time came to say good-bye to their professor and return to their respective
parents. As a parting gift the professor gave them a cooking pot, as well as
some grain, in order that they would have something to cook and eat should
their dry rations runs out before they reached home.
Then, as his final gift
to his students, the professor gave them a piece of advice. "Remember,"
he said to them," the four of you may be proficient, each in your own
subject, but if you don't have the sense to act suitably to the time and
circumstance of situation, you may have to go hungry."
Not quite comprehending
what the great teacher meant, they looked at one another, but said nothing, and
great teacher meant, they looked at one another, but said nothing, and after
paying their respects to their professor, set forth on their journey home.
After travelling for a
number of days their dry rations ran out and the pot and the grain given to
them by their professor came in very useful indeed. "How thoughtful our
great teacher is!" they felt and got down to the business of cooking
themselves a meal. There was rice enough for all four of them all right, but
they would have to do something about the curry. So they drew lots for the
different tasks to be carried out in order to get a decent meal.
Thus, the man of music
and dancing was to cook the rice. The medico was to buy meat and fish; the astrologer
was to gather vegetables; and the philosopher was to get some ghee (which is
clarified butter) to cook the curry in. And they each set out to do his task.
The medico went to the nearest
village and there in the bazaar he found various kinds of meat and fish. He
looked around for some time and found that nothing suited him. His medical
knowledge now seemed to warn him which meat or fish was indigestible, which not
nutritious, which unseasonable, which would cause what disease, which would
upset the stomach and which the bile, till finally he left without buying any
meat or fish!
The philosopher,
however, got the required ghee, which he packed in a green leaf, and retraced
his steps. On the way, he soon became lost in philosophical speculations.
"Ghee," he said to himself, "comes from cow's milk. Cow eats
grass, and yes, leaves, too. Ah then, in a way, ghee comes from cow's milk, and
cow's milk comes from leaves, and so the ghee and the leaf are related!"
On and on he philosophized, quite happily unaware of the ghee in the leaf in
his hand melting gradually and dripping.
By the time he met the medico,
who was coming back empty-handed from the village market, there was nothing
left of the ghee he had bought! He, too,
was now empty-handed. The two of them looked at each other, not knowing whether
to smile or weep and each recounted to the other what had happened to him, as
they walked back to where the man of music and dancing was supposed to be
cooking the rice. But there, to their horror, they found their friend looking
as disconsolate as ever, moping beside a broken pot with the rice strewn all
over the fire-place.
"Soon after the
three of you left," wailed the cook," I built a fire, rinsed the rice, put it in the
pot, added the required amount of water, and placed the pot on the fire. After
some time, the pot began to simmer, and then it started to boil. I watched and
could not help but hear the bubbling noise of the boiling rice. To my ears, it
sounded so much like the rhythmic beats of music coming from a drum that I
started dancing to it. And,… and…"
"And what
happened?" asked his two friends. " And," continued the
cook," one backward kick of my right heel caught the pot. And there, as
you can see, is the end of our rice!"
The other two, who had
come back empty-handed, now found it quite easy to admit to the cook that they,
too, had failed to accomplish what they had set out to do. Suddenly, they
remembered their astrologer friend, who was to get some vegetables. Off they
went to look for him in the forest, and there atop a tall bael tree was their
friend, sitting tight.
Before they could say
anything, the astrologer called out to them. "Hey, I've got all the tender
bael leaves that should go well with our meal. See!" he said, holding up
the leaves he had plucked.
"Then why are you
still there astride that branch? What are you staying on there for?"
"Ah," replied
the astrologer, "the climbing up was easy because at that moment I was
under the influence of an ascending constellation. But now, the climbing down
is quite a different matter. You see, the stars are not just right as yet and I
am waiting for the moment when I'll be under the influence of a descending
constellation."
"Oh, to hell with
your stars and constellations!" the three on the ground yelled, almost in
unison. "Just come you down!"
The poor astrologer was
frightened out of his wits. He started to climb down slowly, shakily. But he
was trembling so much that he half-slipped and half-fell, and lay in a stunned
heap on the ground. His three friends lifted him up and all he had were bruises
and cuts. No tender bael leaves!
Now with no meal in
sight, each began to realize how and why he had failed in carrying out his lot.
Then, slowly, the wisdom of the parting advice given to them by their great
teacher dawned upon them.
"Remember, the
four of you may be proficient, each in your own subject, but if you don't have
the sense to act suitably to the time and circumstance of a situation, you may
have to go hungry."
0 comments:
Post a Comment