A Gram in the Heart and a Ton in the Mind

 Two monks, one young and the other old, were crossing a stream. A beautiful woman was also standing on the bank. There were lines of worry on her striking face, her mind calculating the risk. The stream appeared daunting to her elegant, feminine self. In the spring air, the bird songs appeared to carry sensual notes.

The old monk looked at her. He understood that she needed help to cross the stream. His moral training of being kind to others fetched the idea of helping her to his mind. But the mere thought of touching a woman shook him up. It was a bigger no on the scale of immorality. He got goose-bumps. His rules of celibacy forbade him from touching a woman. So chanting mantras to clear his mind of the thoughts about the woman, he moved onto cross the stream.

Reaching the other end, he was horrified to see the spectacle behind him. The young monk was crossing the stream. The woman was sitting on his shoulders. It was scandalous to the elder monk. He was gripped by scores of emotions. He felt jealous of the younger monk, for taking the initiative basically; of becoming someone he always wanting to but denied himself from being. He then forced his jealousy into anger over the violation of the code of monastic conduct. He was seething with helpless rage. The thought of touching a beautiful woman was gnawing at his heart. He was again denying some basic instinct as he had throughout his life.

Reaching the opposite bank, the younger monk helped the woman down. She thanked and smiled. He bowed and followed his religiosity to the extent of keeping a straight face and moved away with respect, peace and dignity. The monks started towards their hermitage.

They had been walking for hours. It was evening when they neared their place of penance. The check-dam of the old man’s thoughts broke. Finally he burst out.

“You touched a woman. You have broken the code of conduct. I will complain against you once we reach,” he was still wondering whether he was jealous of the young monk or was it really anger over the violation of the rules book.

The young monk smiled. He put a comforting hand on the old man’s shoulder.

“I left her on the river bank itself after helping her. You are still carrying her in your mind,” he said politely.

The older monk was ashamed. He tried to put her out of his mind as they walked. The younger monk meanwhile walked with a rested mind, appreciating the marvels of nature in the forest.

The message is clear. The things which ought to be simply done, should just be done. Otherwise, their shadows linger in the mind. They grow heavier with the passage of time. This invisible weight is heavier than the stones we see around. Simple, harmless acts of appreciation, of enjoyment, of helping someone cross a stream are better done and closed with a full stop. It’s better for a healthy mind. Otherwise, they linger like conspiring shadows over our conscience.

A missed chance of being good will definitely cast a shadow on our mind. An effort to help the self in being good, on the other hand, will hardly leave any unbecoming imprint on our conscience for pinching reflections later.

Only goodness has a legacy and a future. Hypocrisy and meanness are just bad examples and leave repentance most of the time. To do good is instinctive for a human being, it’s however another matter that we stifle the urge most of the time. To be bad, on the other hand, is not intrinsic to our nature. It is wrongly reflective, a miscalculation, a tragic bypass of the instinct of goodness.

Nurture the seeds of the instincts of goodness like the younger monk did. It gives peace of mind, clear conscience and makes the journey enjoyable. Avoid it and you carry the burden in your mind like the older monk.