Stories by the
Mother on Sincerity
A Muslim writer, Abu Abbas, tells us of the glory of
King Solomon, who reigned in Jerusalem, the holy city of the Hebrews. In his
throne room there were six hundred seats, half of which were occupied by sages,
the other half by Jinns or genies who assisted Solomon by their magic power.
Throughout the sittings of the Council, a multitude of great birds would appear
at a word from the king and spread their wings to shade the people in the six
hundred seats. And at his command, each morning and evening, a powerful wind
would arise, lifting up the whole palace and instantaneously transporting it a
month’s journey away. In this way, the king was at hand to govern the distant
lands that belonged to him. Besides, Solomon made the most marvellous throne
one could ever dream of. And this throne was designed in such a way that no one
would dare to utter an untruth in the presence of the king. It was made of
ivory, inlaid with pearls, emeralds and rubies, and around it stood four golden
date-palms on which the dates were also emeralds and rubies. At the top of two
of these palms were golden peacocks, and on the two others were golden
vultures. On each side of the throne there were also two golden lions between
two pillars of emerald. And golden vines bearing ruby grapes twined around the
trunks of the trees.
The elders of Israel were seated at Solomon’s right
hand and their seats were of gold, the genies sat at his left hand and their
seats were of silver. When the king held his court of justice the people were
allowed into his presence. And each time that a man bore witness on another, if
he deviated ever so little from the truth, an amazing thing would happen. At
the sight of him, the throne bearing the king, the lions, the palm-trees, the
peacocks and the vultures, would instantly turn round on itself. Then the lions
would thrust forward their claws, lashing the ground with their tails; the
vultures and the peacocks would flap their wings.
And so the witnesses would tremble with terror and
would not dare to tell a single lie. And this was no doubt very convenient, and
must have considerably lightened the king’s task. But fear is always a wretched
thing, which consorts ill with truth. Even when by chance, as in the story of
Abu Abbas, it forces a man to speak the truth, that does not make him truthful;
for, at the very next moment, fear may drive him to speak without frankness, as
did the fox in our previous tale. And that is what most often happens. An
honest man does not need the marvels of Solomon’s throne to learn to speak the
truth. The throne of truth dwells within his own heart; the rectitude of his
soul cannot but inspire him with words of rectitude. He speaks the truth not
because he is afraid of a teacher, a master or a judge, but because truth is
the characteristic of an upright man, the stamp of his nature. Love of truth
makes him face all fears. He speaks as he should, no matter what happens to
him.
***
Is it not noble to speak the truth in this way, even
when there is some danger in doing it? Besides, very often, things turn out
better for those who brave this danger than it might have seemed at first. The
success of falsehood is only short-lived, whereas in most cases, to be sincere
is the cleverest thing to do.
One morning, the Emperor of Delhi sat on his throne to
confer honours on those he considered worthy. As the ceremony was drawing to a
close, he noticed that one of the people he had summoned, a young man named
Syed Ahmed, had not yet made his appearance.
The Emperor stepped down from his throne and got into
a sedan chair which was used to carry him through his vast palace.
Just at that moment the young man hurried in.
“Your son is late,” said the Emperor to Syed’s father,
who was his friend.
“Why?” asked the Emperor, looking sternly at the young
man.
“Sire,” Syed replied frankly, “it is because I
overslept.”
The courtiers looked at the young man in amazement.
How dare he admit so shamelessly to the Emperor that he had no better excuse?
How tactless of him to speak like that!
But the Emperor, after pondering a moment, felt
respect for the young man because of his sincerity; and he gave him the
necklace of pearls and the jewel of honour to place on his brow. Such was the
reward of Syed Ahmed, who loved the truth and spoke it to all, prince or
peasant.
***
There is a legend in South India which tells of a
prince, the Jasmine King, whose laugh alone would fill the land for leagues
around with the sweet fragrance of jasmine. But for that his laugh must come
from the joyful and spontaneous gaiety of his heart. It would have been no use
if he had tried to laugh without true merriment. When his spirit was full of
joy, his laughter would bubble up like a fragrant spring. The quality of this
laughter came wholly from its sincerity.
The tables in Duryodhana’s palace were laid with an
extremely rich display of vessels of gold and silver, ornamented with rubies
and emeralds and diamonds sparkling with many colours. Lord Krishna was invited
to the feast but did not go. Instead he went that night to the house of a poor
Sudra, who had also invited him. The meal was simple, the dishes were plain. And yet Krishna chose this one in preference
to the other, for the feast which the Sudra offered him was full of sincere
love, whereas the sumptuous banquet of King Duryodhana had been given only for
show.
It is also said that the glorious Rama once sat at the
table of a very humble woman, whose husband was a fowler. All she could put
before the famous hero was a few fruits, for she had nothing else. But she gave
the best she had with such a good heart that Rama was touched and wished that
the memory of this gift from a sincere soul should not be forgotten, and that
is why it is still spoken of after so many centuries.
Jalal was a wise and famous teacher. One day two Turks
who wished to hear his teachings came to see him with an offering. As they were
very poor, their gift was small—only a handful of lentils. Some of the sage’s
disciples looked at this present with scorn. But Jalal told them: “Once the
Prophet Mohammed needed riches to carry out one of his undertakings. So he
asked his followers to give him what they could spare. Some brought half of
their possessions, others a third. Abu Bakar gave all his wealth. In this way
Mohammed got a large quantity of animals and weapons. Then came a poor woman
who in her turn offered the Prophet three dates and a wheat-cake; and that was
all she had. Many smiled at this sight, but the Prophet told them that he had
had a dream in which he had seen the angels take a pair of scales and put the
gifts of all the people in one of the pans and into the other only the dates
and the bread of the poor woman. And the scale stood balanced, for this pan was
as heavy as the other.” And Jalal added: “A
small gift offered with a sincere heart has as much value as costly presents.”
On hearing this the two Turks were full of joy and no one dared laugh any more
about the handful of lentils.
(CWM, Volume 2,
Sri Aurobindo Ashram Trust, Puducherry)
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