Columnists
A Fable For The Easily Offended
by T. SHER SINGH
A quiet, unassuming old man was walking down the street one day when a young urchin sneaked up from behind him, gave him a quick poke of a stick he had in his hand, and fled like greased lightning to a safe distance.
The old man, wincing from the pain, swung around, only to see a young boy running away from him, flailing a stick in the air.
The man’s aching knees did not allow him to give the culprit a chase. He rubbed around the sore spot on his back until it felt better, then turned around and slowly continued on his walk.
He didn’t hear the kid sneak up to him again, a mere minute or two later, and again felt a sharp jab on his behind.
Swivelled around. Saw the same fellow running away, yelping and waving his weapon in triumph.
The old man felt helpless, smarting from his new injury. There was no one in sight who was willing to help, though there were a number of by-standers. They smiled and giggled at the prank and then went back to whatever they were doing.
Feeling helpless at his predicament, he eyed the boy as he stood across the road, still brandishing his stick. Massaging his back, he turned around and proceeded to walk, but this time around, constantly vigilant, glancing back every few seconds, wary of his oppressor.
It didn’t take long. From the corner of his eye, he saw the boy approaching him once again, slowly, stealthily, biding his time for just the right moment to strike again.
The old man saw a bench on the sidewalk, and plunked himself down when he reached it. He glanced at the boy who too had stopped but a short distance away, obviously biding his time and reassessing the scene.
The old man broke into a smile and politely waved at the boy. The boy, thinking it was a game, waved back.
The old man dug into his pocket and brought out a handful of candy. He picked one, threw it towards the boy and waved at him.
The boy saw the bright-coloured wrapper glitter in the sun, and instantly recognized it for what it was.
“For me?” he asked loudly.
“Yes”, nodded the old man, smiling in return.
As the boy came closer to pick up the candy, the old man patted his hand on the seat beside him, inviting the boy over to sit with him.
With the candy in his mouth, the boy liked the pleasant turn of events, and sauntered towards the bench. Sat down beside the man.
The old man dug into his pockets again, this time around pulling out a small pouch of coins. He pulled out one from it - a quarter - and offered it to the boy.
The boy took it, saw that it was real money, and gleamed with delight.
Before long, fully pleased with himself, the boy bade the old man goodbye and traipsed away, swinging his stick in the air.
The old man sat there, following him with his eyes. He had a smile on his face.
A woman, standing at a bus-stop across the road, had silently observed the whole sequence of events as they unfolded. Seeing the boy bounce away and the old man smiling, she couldn’t contain her curiosity. She crossed the street to his side, and sat down beside him on the bench.
“Sir,” she said, “I’ve been watching all this while how that little punk has been harassing you. May I ask you something, please?”
The old man nodded.
“I saw him, out of the blue and for no reason, pick on you. He hurt you once, he hurt you twice. And I could see he was not going to stop … he was stalking you again.”
The old man nodded.
“And then. And then … once you had an opportunity to catch him and thrash him, you gave him a candy instead! And then, you gave him a further reward: a coin! Pray, why? I’m confused. Did I miss something? Is there something else going on that I don’t understand?”
The old man simply nodded and smiled.
“I think you should’ve thumped him nice and hard when you had the chance. Instead, you rewarded him. Oh, please do explain!” begged the woman.
The old man looked at her long and hard and then burst into mischievous laughter.
“Well, I must confess I was tempted to give him a good thrashing. But I gave it some thought. And realized that I had to tread very, very carefully.
“If I had done anything untoward to him - such as slap him, or spank him, etc - the world looking on would’ve said: ’Look at that man, he can’t even take a child’s prank! No tolerance, no sense of humour, no sense of proportion!’
“Others would’ve said: ’He’s such a boor, that big, burly man, beating up on a small, helpless child!’
“”Some onlooker would’ve called the Children’s Aid Society. Another would’ve called the police. Before long, I would’ve been hauled to jail, charged with assault … and treated with utter disdain for having mistreated a mere child!
“It looked like a no-win situation for me.
“So I decided I had to address this little problem strategically, so that I could come out a winner. So that I could stop this kid from harassing me, and have the world leave me alone.
“So, here’s what I did. I disarmed the kid with friendliness, I won him over by making him feel that I was harmless. I got him to stop pestering me.
“Now, how could I stop him from doing the same thing to others?
“So, I encouraged him. In the short term, I made him think that playing such mischief had its rewards. So, I know for sure that he’s going to go down the street and find another man or woman to needle. Chances are, sooner or later, he’ll encounter someone who won’t be as patient as I am. Someone grumpier, someone who has no time for niceties or strategy. He’ll grab the rascal by the scruff of his neck and give him the beating he deserves.
“That’ll stop him. He won’t do it again, I assure you.
“So, here’s what I have done: I’ve solved the problem. I’ve kept my reputation intact. And I’ve kept my hands clean.
“And, guess what, all it cost me was a quarter!”
January 28, 2012
Conversation about this article
1: Harinder (Uttar Pradesh, India), January 28, 2012, 11:27 AM.
Another option, Sher Singh ji: put on Fauja Singh's running shoes!
2: Kanwarjeet Singh (Franklin Park,,New Jersey, U.S.A.), January 28, 2012, 5:59 PM.
Nice story, Sher Singh ji. I think it is a excellent way of waking us all up after the Jay Leno fiasco. I am not being critical or supportive of this story but just trying to understand (especially as a first time parent with a 16-month old)- how will the boy learn not to play such pranks. Beating is surely not the solution but there has to be some way to instil the message. On a seperate note, here is a story you may like to share: I remember Bhagat Namdev ji's story where a brahmin saw Namdev take a bath in the river and ascending the steps. As soon as Bhagat Namdev reached the top of the steps, the brahmin spat on him. Bhagat Namdev, without uttering a word, climbed all the way down to the river and took another bath. It is said that this episode occurred a 103 times, finally tiring the brahmin who, having learnt his lesson from Namdev's humility, fell to Namdev's feet and begged for forgiveness. Bhagat Namdev, through his sheer patience, taught a lesson to the arrogant brahmin. A similiar story of patience was seen during the British rule when a band of five Sikhs would walk up to the British soldiers, be beaten up and then the next five would take over, all for their struggle for freedom. The beatings finally stopped - but not until hundreds had been brutalized - when the Brits realized that the Sikhs would not cave in and they themselves were tired administering the beatings.
3: T. Sher Singh (Mount Forest, Ontario, Canada), January 28, 2012, 6:19 PM.
Dear Kanwarjeet ji: a fable is not meant to be taken literally, or to be dissected. It is only offered for its "moral" - which in this case, I think, is simply that knee-jerk responses to things that happen to you in your life daily, do not help anybody. One wouldn't, for example, dissect an Aesop's fable or a Grimm's tale, and point out that a fox and a crow don't talk or have human emotions, or that Red Riding Hood's guardians should lose custody of her because ...
4: Baldev Singh (Bradford, United Kingdom), January 28, 2012, 10:18 PM.
This piece should be read widely. It's a classic 'fable' for the world today. Thank you, T. Sher Singh, for simple brilliance.