What Seek Ye?

Once there lived a man, an exceedingly rich man of the East. Whatsoever he wished, he obtained.

One day, a certain beggar appeared at his door. His clothes were neat and comely, and he leaned slightly on a gnarled walking stick. He asked if he could stay the night, and the man agreed.

He showed the beggar to a small room, and gave him a simple blanket, pillow and mattress to rest on. As he was about to depart, the beggar turned about and asked, ‘What seek ye?’

The man was puzzled and slightly startled by such a question. He was about to give a general reply when he noticed the kind intent and eagerness in the eyes of the beggar. He felt that he could trust him, and thus stepped back into the room and closed the door behind him.

‘I seek to become the richest man in the world.’

The beggar continued looking at him, a kind smile on his face.

‘Well, I suppose I seek to have the freedom to do whatever I want, whenever I want.’

The beggar didn’t say a word.

‘I think I also seek security in my properties and wealth.’

The man paused, and felt a soft glow in his heart as he recalled the better times. He remembered how he grew up in the slums, collecting scraps from people’s meals. He remembered looking afar off over the great city on the East side, and promising to himself that one day he would be like them, and that he would help the poor.

Wistfully he uttered, ‘I seek to help the poor with what wealth I have.’

The beggar then cried, ‘I am a poor man who pounds the street everyday for a meagre meal. Then give me some of your wealth, upon your word and honour!’

The man was shaken from his reminiscing. He quaked angrily as he realized the deception and cunning of the beggar, ‘You have had no other intent but to rob me of my riches! Be gone!’

The beggar stood his ground firmly and said, ‘You have professed to seek to help the poor. Am I not one of the lower castes?’

‘Indeed I have sought to help the poor, but you have only sought to obtain a portion of my riches!’

The beggar proceeded to say, ‘You mistake me. I only asked for some of your wealth. I never mentioned in what way I should receive of it.’

The man was hushed.

The beggar said, ‘You claimed to be charitable. Yet your response has only served to reveal what you really seek.’

The man could not utter a single word.

‘I stand before you still. Will you yet withhold your hand of providence from me?’

The man, trembling, reached into his purse and withdrew a few gold coins, placing it into the hand of the beggar.

The beggar received it quietly and put it into his leather pouch.

The man, having more confidence now, asked, ‘So, what seek ye?’

The beggar turned around, looked him in the eye and smiled slightly, ‘I seek to become the richest man in the world.’

THE END

INNOCENCE

The child looked with big googly eyes at her counterpart in the pram. He stared back with a look mixed with curiosity and excitement, hands shuffling to push himself a little forward on his seat.

She tugged her mother’s arm, and the woman glanced down at her, instinctively spotting the object of her child’s fascination. She beamed proudly and warmly, beckoning her to go forward and say the proverbial ‘Hi!’.

The woman with the pram stopped ruffling through the T-shirts in the rack, and bent down so as to be next to her child.

‘She wants to say hi to you!’, she whispered excitedly.

He leaned forward and grabbed the banister of his pram, bringing himself closer to the girl who was now toddling over to him.

With awkward, confident steps, she approached him. Then, stopping in front of him, she opened her arms.

‘Awww…’ both mothers exclaimed spontaneously with affection.

‘Come on, give her a hug!’

He opened his arms in return, and she stepped closer. She embraced him tightly and he did likewise.

Then, glancing upward as if savouring the moment, she bit him on the cheek.

THE END

Soil and Flower

Once upon a time, there lived a patch of soil. It lived under the blue, blue sky with its fluffy clouds and grinning sun.

One day, a seed fell from the sky and landed on it. It ambitiously declared, ‘I wanna grow here. I like this place. Magnesium, check. Potassium, check. Crumbly-feel, check. I want to grow here.’

The soil paused, then said, ‘You want to grow? Here?’

The seed said impatiently, ‘Yes, I want to grow. Duh. I’m a seed. And I do want to grow here. It feels good.’

The soil said nothing for a while, then slowly started, ‘You are free to grow. But I just want to tell you that you will experience life, and death.’

The seed snapped, ‘Ok already wise guy. Just let me germinate in peace.’

And so the soil said nothing. Within a few days, the seed grew its rootlets, reached towards the sky, and shed its seed coat.

‘I feel great! Why, you didn’t tell me that life would be so marvelous! I grow taller and taller each day. All you see is the blue, blue sky with its fluffy clouds and grinning sun. I, for your information, can see more and more everyday. I see trees, large and strong. I see houses of brick, imposing and sturdy. And I see people, tall and wise and lean.’

The seedling glanced down at the soil, and spat out in disgust, ‘You don’t see much, do you?’

The soil said nothing.

Weeks passed, and the seed grew taller, firmer and greener. Soon, it shed forth beautiful flowers.

‘I feel positively fantastic! Why, you didn’t tell me that life would be so enjoyable! My flowers are a brilliant hue of sapphire and flame! My phloem and xylem couldn’t be having a better time transporting glucose and water (respectively). Bees swarm me everyday, gathering my sweet and delicious nectar. I think that beauty couldn’t find a better soulmate than me. But what are you?’

The flower looked down, staring at the soil. After a momentary pause, it spat out with venom, ‘Aren’t you just a patch of black soil?’

The soil said nothing.

A month passed, and soon the flower began to feel different.

‘I’m feeling dreadful. Why, you didn’t tell me that life would turn out this way! My stem is starting to feel a chronic strain. My flowers are losing their colours. I’m fading to dull maroon! The bees have left me. And each day, I see less and less. Where have all the people gone? Why have all the trees grown taller? Some look dreadful too.’

The flower looked down, and said, ‘But aren’t you still the same old patch of soil? Ha!’

The soil said nothing.

Soon, the chills of the North flowed across the plains, and the sky turned a frosty grey.

‘I’m feeling…why didn’t you tell me that life would turn out like this? I have nothing left. Nothing…’

The flower glanced to its side (it now lay prostrate on the soil), and said weakly, ‘Haha, but you have nothing too. You never had anything.’

The soil paused. It then said, ‘Now, I have you.’

The flower was taken aback by the sudden show of kindness.

‘But, all I’ve ever done is to insult you…wait a minute…’

As the truth sunk in, the flower’s wilted petals stood on end and it uttered a piercing cry of fear.

The soil dragged it down and feasted upon it.

THE END