Values have been passed on for centuries through simple stories in Asia, as elsewhere in the world.
One day, the famous court advisor, Hwang Hui, was traveling in disguise to inspect the land of Korea. In the shadow of a cloud-tipped mountain range, he came upon a farmer standing in a field. Near him grazed both a black cow and a white cow. Curious about the two very different types, Hwang Hui called out, “Which cow is the better cow?”
The farmer was some distance away, but still close enough to shout an answer. However, he did not. So Hwang Hui repeated his question. Slowly the farmer walked toward the inspector.
“Just tell me, which cow is better?” shouted Hwang Hui impatiently. But the farmer was still silent as he came closer. Finally, he stood right by the official. He bent forward and whispered his answer, “The white one, sir.”
“Thank you for your reply, ”said Hwang Hui who was puzzled by the man’s actions. “But you could have simply called out to me, you didn’t have to walk all the way here to whisper it.”
The old farmer leaned over again and said very softly, “I couldn’t shout out my answer, sir, for even animals have feelings, don’t they?” TOP
Once in Korea, when tigers smoked long pipes, a man named Kim Kae In had a fine little dog. The two were most fond of each other and frequently found together. One day they went to visit a far-off friend. There, Kim began to talk, to eat, and to drink too much. The little dog sat patiently, waiting for his friend.
At last, Kim started back toward his village, followed by his faithful dog. But the hot sun, combined with the food and the strong drink, suddenly made him so, so tired. He stopped, dropped down on the ground, and was immediately snoring loudly. His little dog sat nearby, patiently waiting once again.
After some time, the dog’s nose started to sniff in alarm. His head turned toward a roaring sound. In the distance, he saw a huge fire sweeping toward him across the field. Much afraid, the dog barked and barked. But his master was in too deep a sleep. The dog barked again, then bit the man’s leg. Then he licked his cheek, trying desperately to wake him up. Yet the man did not even stir.
Like a great wave, the fire kept coming, growing in size. At last the dog had only one hope — to moisten the grass near his master and thus protect him. Nearby was a clear stream. Quickly the dog ran down and jumped in. Dripping with water, he returned and rolled in the grass. Again and again, he ran to the stream and returned to cover both the grass and his master with cool drops of water. After many trips, though, the poor dog was weak, his own flesh was burned. Finally, he sank upon the grass near the stream to rest forever.
Soon after, Kim awoke. He saw the burned trees, and felt drops on his clothes. Much afraid for his dog, he called frantically for him and searched all round. Suddenly, he saw the small, burned body next to the water. With great sobs, he carried the body to a safe place and gently buried it. He placed his cane to mark the grave of a very faithful friend.
The next year, in the spring, a tree flowered upon that spot. After some time, its leaves spread out and gave welcome shade to all who passed by. The villagers nearby soon called the tree, The Dog Tree, in honor of that small dog with a big heart. People came from miles around to gaze at the tree. And the story of that brave dog was told and retold as they sat under its gracious shade. TOP
Siva, the wise father of Ganesh, once called to his two sons and suggested a small contest.
“I will give this sweet to whoever goes around the world the fastest,” he said, holding out a large, delicious milk sweet. Murugan, Ganesh’s brother, glowed with pride knowing the prize would soon be his. For he could fly swiftly in his chariot, circle the earth, and be back in only hours, while his big, clumsy brother Ganesh would take so much longer to do the same.
Bidding farewell to his parents, Murugan set off happily. Ganesh thought for a moment, then smiled and began to move. His large elephant head with its heavy trunk did slow him down, but he did not have far to go. For he simply walked carefully around both of his parents. In a few minutes he had circled them and stood respectfully in front of his father once again.
“Father, please give me the prize,” he said.
“Why? You did not go around the world, you stayed right here,” replied Siva.
“But father,” argued Ganesh, “I have just gone around the world. You see, my parents are indeed the whole world to me.” His parents smiled, well pleased.
Much later, a tired Murugan returned home. However, the prize was already eaten up. And now you know who won it and why. TOP
In Tamil Nadu, where wise judge Mariada Raman lived, there was much trade with foreign lands. One day, a trader prepared for a journey, asking a nearby merchant to guard a large ruby. After four long years, the trader returned home empty-handed, desperate for his ruby. He went to the merchant, seeking his jewel.
“My dear sir, you are mistaken,” said the merchant. “I no longer have your ruby. Don’t you remember? I returned it to you last week.”
“You did no such thing,” cried the trader. “Give it to me now and don’t lie. Or else we’ll go to court.”
“It is you who lie,” said the merchant. “I have three witnesses who saw me return your precious ruby, so let us go before the judge to settle this.”
Unhappy and confused, the trader followed the merchant to Mariada Raman.
“Your honor,” said the trader. “Four years ago, before I left on a voyage, I trusted this merchant with my ruby. Today I went to claim it, but he refused to return it.”
The judge turned to the merchant and asked, “Is this correct?”
“Of course not, your honor,” said the merchant with a grin. “The man is lying and wasting your time. He did indeed place the ruby with me. I kept it faithfully for the four years. But last week, he came to me and I returned the ruby, in perfect condition.”
“Are there are witnesses to this?” asked the judge.
“Yes indeed,” the merchant replied. “My washerman, my barber, and the local potter all saw me return the gem.”
“Bring those men here,” ordered the judge. In a short while, the three men stood in court. Mariada Raman turned to them and asked, “Will each of you swear that you saw the merchant return a ruby to this man?”
One by one, the three witnesses spoke up, each vowing that he saw the return of the ruby. As they spoke, the trader’s face grew red and his breathing became fast and furious.
The judge gave quiet instructions to his servants, then said, “Now I want all five of you to step outside for a moment.” Each man was led to a separate room and told to make a clay model of the ruby. After some time, the men returned to the courtroom. All five clay rubies were then displayed to the judge. After staring at the five rather unusual pieces, Mariada Raman spoke.
“We will now prove the truth of this case,” he said. “Look at these models. Only two of them resemble rubies. They are the models done by the trader and the merchant, since both definitely saw the gem. However the other three pieces, made by the so-called witnesses, look nothing like jewels.
“These lying cheats have obviously never seen a ruby and so each made something familiar instead. The washerman’s clay looks like the edge of his washing stone. The barber’s seems like his sharpening stone, while the potter’s resembles a brick bit from his kiln. The guilt is clear, proven by the hands of those involved.”
He ordered the ruby to be returned at once to its rightful owner, and suitable punishment to be given to the four liars. Then, leaving the five clay rubies to sit as silent witnesses, the judge went home to enjoy a welcome rest.
(from The World of Indian Stories by Cathy Spagnoli, Tulika, 2003)
Hanuman, the great monkey god and devotee of Rama, was an accomplished musician. However, after some time, he grew too proud of his skill. One day, Rama decided that Hanuman needed to be taught a lesson. He took Hanuman deep into a forest, as if on a hunting trip. But nearby, unknown to Hanuman, lived a sage most famous for his great understanding of music. He had so devoted himself to his music that the seven notes of the scale, the septasvaras, took shape as his daughters.
As Rama rested with Hanuman, he asked him to play his vina. Too full of himself, Hanuman played a bit carelessly. As he played, the seven daughters were on their way to get water. Suddenly, Hanuman played a note out of tune. At once, one girl, who was this very note, fell dead to the ground. Bitterly weeping, her sisters ran to their father. He came and saw his child. Then he heard the vina. The same note was still played out of tune, over and over. In a rage, he picked up his daughter’s body and went to Hanuman.
“See what you have done with your carelessness, with your wrong note and your poor practice,” he cried. Hanuman, suitably humbled, at once passed the vina to the sage, begging forgiveness.
The saint played the same raga, but with greater care and with the skill of a lifetime. Each note was perfect. As the wrong note now sounded just right, the daughter opened her eyes and arose. She ran off happily to play with her sisters while Hanuman sat still, with a lesson well learned.
(from Tales of Asian Artists by Cathy Spagnoli, S.I.C.F./U. of Washington, 2002)
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