Sunday Parable :

The fantasy and the reality

by Prof. Sunanda MAHENDRA

The poor stonemason wiped off his sweat from his brow. He could not stand the scorching blaze of the sun above him. "Oh, this scorching blaze of the sun is unbearable. I can't resist this heat anymore," he muttered to himself but he had a yeoman task to fulfill. The slab of stone had to be chipped into shape, with his chisel and hammer in the best possible manner, which he learnt over the years. Sometimes it so happened that he had to perform his function for hours at a stretch. He had to use all his skill in order to fulfill the task. On some other occasion he had to carve a stone slab into a statue of a god or a goddess, about whom he knew next to nothing. But he had to do this job of work in order to make a decent living. He contemplated for a moment once again about his own function. I am not in a position to find another suitable job, as I am skilled only in this direction. But the impediment is this hot sun. If at all I can be the sun in the sky, I will be the luckiest person in the universe. Sun, though makes the humans feel hotter is the most invincible object in the universe."

No sooner than thought, the stonemason became the sun, which scorches the others, humans, animals and plants. But the sun turned stonemason was not very happy about his status.

"Why should I be a sun that only shines and makes others feel the warmth in various forms?"

All of a sudden a dark cloud went pass the sun covering the hot rays, "Oh I am covered with a dark cloud. This is indicative of a stronger power than the sun. Why shouldn't I become a cloud? Great big cloud has the power of covering the strength of a sun. As such a cloud is much more powerful than a sun."

No sooner than the thought occurred in the mind of the sun turned stonemason was transformed into a cloud. "Now that I am the cloud, I have all the powers bestowed by the universe. I am the mightiest one. Nobody can trouble me or bring pain to me." A strong wind swept across the sky. The power of wind gradually intensified into a typhoon which in turn became a terrible irresistible disaster to the cloud.

The cloud then felt that a wind can change its manners which in turn prove the power over and above a cloud.

"As a cloud, I am powerless. I am not at all powerful as the wind." The cloud went on watching what the wind is doing. The wind gradually intensifying its power created a terrible turmoil by bringing about disaster. Great big trees were uprooted. Mansions were shattered to smithereens. Humans and animals were displaced. The boats and ships were swayed and drowned. By all means everything looked topsy-turvy. But there was one thing that stood still unshaken by the mighty wind. That was a rocky stone, which stood stuck to a mountain cliff. The wind heard a sage in the forest murmuring some words, which reverberated in his ears.

"However much a wise man is insulted and humiliated stands undisturbed like a rocky stone from the wind that blows on."

Towards the rocky stone approached a man with a hammer, chisel and some other utensils. He gradually turned the rocky stone into a beautiful statue.

"The skill of changing rocky stone lies in the hands of the stonemason." Reflected the wind.

"Oh how I wish to be in that state of life."

Then he saw the stonemason hammering another blow with his great big crowbar and removing a slab of stone.

No sooner than the thought crossed his mind then he was turned to a human figure as he used to be in the very first stage. The fantasy was over. There was no scorching sun anymore. The stonemason went on with his usual skill of taming the rocky stone. He gradually realized that he was no longer a mere stone crusher but a skilful artiste of a particular type. The wise men passed him for his skill, while the poets of the community wrote songs. Singers sung songs and eulogies. He remained tireless engaged himself in the function which was inherited by a lineage of equal skill.

(A variation of a Sinhala folk narrative written by Munidasa Cumaratunga.)