Zen
A Buddha
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
In Tokyo in the Meiji era there lived two prominent teachers of opposite characteristics. One, Unsho, an instructor in Shingon, kept Buddha's precepts scrupulously. He never drank intoxicants, nor did he eat after eleven o'clock in the morning. The other teacher, Tanzan, a professor of philosophy at the Imperial University, never observed the precepts. Whenever he felt like eating, he ate, and when he felt like sleeping in the daytime he slept.
One day Unsho visited Tanzan, who was drinking wine at the time, not even a drop of which is suppposed to touch the tongue of a Buddhist.
"Hello, brother," Tanzan greeted him. "Won't you have a drink?"
"I never drink!" exclaimed Unsho solemnly.
"One who does not drink is not even human," said Tanzan.
"Do you mean to call me inhuman just because I do not indulge in intoxicating liquids!" exclaimed Unsho in anger. "Then if I am not human, what am I?"
"A Buddha," answered Tanzan.
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Eshun and the Monks
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Twenty monks and one nun, who was named Eshun, were practicing meditation with a certain Zen master.
Eshun was very pretty even though her head was shaved and her dress plain. Several monks secretly fell in love with her. One of them wrote her a love letter, insisting upon a private meeting.
Eshun did not reply. The following day the master gave a lecture to the group, and when it was over, Eshun arose. Addressing the one who had written to her, she said: "If you really love me so much, come and embrace me now."
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Gudo and Mu-nan
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Gudo was the emperor's teacher of his time. Nevertheless, he used to travel alone as a wandering mendicant. Once when he was on his way to Edo, the cultural and political center of the shogunate, he approached a little village named Takenaka. It was evening and a heavy rain was falling. Gudo was thoroughly wet. His straw sandals were in pieces. At a farmhouse near the village he noticed four or five pairs of sandals in the window and decided to buy some dry ones.
The woman who offered him the sandals, seeing how wet he was, invited him in to remain for the night in her home. Gudo accepted, thanking her. He entered and recited a sutra before the family shrine. He was then introduced to the women's mother, and to her children. Observing that the entire family was depressed, Gudo asked what was wrong.
"My husband is a gambler and a drunkard," the housewife told him. "When he happens to win he drinks and becomes abusive. When he loses he borrows money from others. Sometimes when he becomes thoroughly drunk he does not come home at all. What can I do?"
"I will help him," said Gudo. "Here is some money. Get me a gallon of fine wine and something good to eat. Then you may retire. I will meditate before the shrine."
When the man of the house returned about midnight, quite drunk, he bellowed: "Hey, wife, I am home. Have you something for me to eat?"
"I have something for you," said Gudo. "I happened to be caught in the rain and your wife kindly asked me to remain here for the night. In return I have bought some wine and fish, so you might as well have them."
The man was delighted. He drank the wine at once and laid himself down on the floor. Gudo sat in meditation beside him.
In the morning when the husband awoke he had forgotten about the previous night. "Who are you? Where do you come from?" he asked Gudo, who was still meditating.
"I am Gudo of Kyoto and I am going on to Edo," replied the Zen master.
The man was utterly ashamed. He apologized profusely to the teacher of his emperor.
Gudo smiled. "Everything in this life is impermanent," he explained. "Life is very brief. If you keep on gambling and drinking, you will have no time left to accomplish anything else, and you will cause your family to suffer too."
The perception of the husband awoke as if from a dream. "You are right," he declared. "How can I ever repay you for this wonderful teaching! Let me see you off and carry your things a little way."
"If you wish," assented Gudo.
The two started out. After they had gone three miles Gudo told him to return. "Just another five miles," he begged Gudo. They continued on.
"You may return now," suggested Gudo.
"After another ten miles," the man replied.
"Return now," said Gudo, when the ten miles had been passed.
"I am going to follow you all the rest of my life," declared the man.
Modern Zen teachings in Japan spring from the lineage of a famous master who was the successor of Gudo. His name was Mu-nan, the man who never turned back.
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Hoshin's Departure
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
The Zen Master Hoshin lived in China many years. Then he returned to the northeastern part of Japan, where he taught his disciples. When he was getting very old, he told them a story he had heard in China. This is the story:
One year on the twenty-fifth of December, Tokufu, who was very old, said to his disciples: "I am not going to be alive next year so you fellows should treat me well this year."
The pupils thought he was joking, but since he was a great-hearted teacher each of them in turn treated him to a feast on succeeding days of the departing year.
On the eve of the new year, Tokufu concluded: "You have been good to me. I shall leave tomorrow afternoon when the snow has stopped."
The disciples laughed, thinking he was aging and talking nonsense since the night was clear and without snow. But at midnight snow began to fall, and the next day they did not find their teacher about. They went to the meditation hall. There he had passed on.
Hoshin, who related this story, told his disciples: "It is not necessary for a Zen master to predict his passing, but if he really wishes to do so, he can."
"Can you?" someone asked.
"Yes," answered Hoshin. "I will show you what I can do seven days from now."
None of the disciples believed him, and most of them had even forgotten the conversation when Hoshin called them together.
"Seven days ago," he remarked, "I said I was going to leave you. It is customary to write a farewell poem, but I am neither a poet or a calligrapher. Let one of you inscribe my last words."
His followers thought he was joking, but one of them started to write.
"Are you ready?" Hoshin asked.
"Yes sir," replied the writer.
Then Hoshin dictated:
I came from brillancy
And return to brillancy.
What is this?
This line was one line short of the customary four, so the disciple said: "Master, we are one line short."
Hoshin, with the roar of a conquering lion, shouted "Kaa!" and was gone.
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Is that so?
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
The Zen master Hakuin was praised by his neighbours as one living a pure life.
A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a food store lived near him. Suddenly, without any warning, her parents discovered she was with child.
This made her parents angry. She would not confess who the man was, but after much harassment at last named Hakuin.
In great anger the parent went to the master. "Is that so?" was all he would say.
After the child was born it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation, which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the child. He obtained milk from his neighbours and everything else he needed.
A year later the girl-mother could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth - the real father of the child was a young man who worked in the fishmarket.
The mother and father of the girl at once went to Hakuin to ask forgiveness, to apologize at length, and to get the child back.
Hakuin was willing. In yielding the child, all he said was: "Is that so?"
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Nan-in and the Cup of Tea
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Nan-in, a Japanese master during the Meiji era (1868-1912), received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.
Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full, and then kept on pouring.
The professor watched the overflow until he no longer could restrain himself. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"
"Like this cup," Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"
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Obedience
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
The master Bankei's talks were attended not only by Zen students but by persons of all ranks and sects. He never quoted sutras not indulged in scholastic dissertations. Instead, his words were spoken directly from his heart to the hearts of his listeners.
His large audience angered a priest of the Nichiren sect because the adherents had left to hear about Zen. The self-centered Nichiren priest came to the temple, determined to have a debate with Bankei.
"Hey, Zen teacher!" he called out. "Wait a minute. Whoever respects you will obey what you say, but a man like myself does not respect you. Can you make me obey you?"
"Come up beside me and I will show you," said Bankei.
Proudly the priest pushed his way through the crowd to the teacher.
Bankei smiled. "Come over to my left side."
The priest obeyed.
"No," said Bankei, "we may talk better if you are on the right side. Step over here."
The priest proudly stepped over to the right.
"You see," observed Bankei, "you are obeying me and I think you are a very gentle person. Now sit down and listen."
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Ryokan and the Thief
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Ryokan, a Zen master, lived the simplest kind of life in a little hut at the foot of a mountain. One evening a thief visited the hut only to discover there was nothing to steal.
Ryokan returned and caught him. "You have come a long way to visit me," he told the prowler, "and you should not return empty-handed. Please take my clothes as a gift."
The thief was bewildered. He took the clothes and slunk away.
Ryoken sat naked, watching the moon. "Poor fellow," he mused, "I wish I could have given him this beautiful moon."
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Shoun a Teacher of Soto Zen
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Shoun became a teacher of Soto Zen. When he was still a student his father passed away, leaving him to care for his old mother.
Whenever Shoun went to a meditation hall he always took his mother with him. Since she accompanied him, when he visited monasteries he could not live with the monks. So he would built a little house and care for her there. He would copy sutras, Buddhist verses, and in this manner receive a few coins for food.
When Shoun bought fish for his mother, the people would scoff at him, fo a monk is not supposed to eat fish. But Shoun did not mind. His mother, however, was hurt to see others laugh at her son. Finally she told Shoun: "I think I will become a nun. I can be vegetarian too." She did, and they studied together.
Shoun was fond of music and was a master of the harp, which his mother also played. On full-moon nights they used to play together. One night a young lady passed by their house and heard music. Deeply touched, she invited Shoun to visit her the next evening and play. He accepted the invitation. A few days later he met the young lady on the street and thanked her for her hospitality. Others laughed at him. He had visited the house of a woman of the streets.
One day Shoun left for a distant temple to deliver a lecture. A few months afterwards he returned home to find his mother dead. Friends had not known where to reach him, so the funeral was in progress.
Shoun walked up and hit the coffin with his staff. "Mother, your son has returned," he said.
"I am glad to see you have returned, son," he answered for his mother.
"Yes, I am glad too," Shoun responded. Then he announced to the people about him: "The funeral ceremony is over. You may bury the body."
When Shoun was old he knew his end was approaching. He asked his disciples to gather around him in the morning, telling them he was going to pass on at noon. Burning incense before the picture of his mother and his old teacher, he wrote a poem:
For fifty-six years I lived as best I could,
Making my way in this world.
Now the rain has ended, the clouds are clearing,
The blue sky has a full moon.
His disciples gathered around him, reciting sutra, and Shoun passed on during the invocation.
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Subhuti's Emptiness
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Subhuti was Buddha's disciple. He was able to understand the potency of emptiness, that nothing exists except in its relationship of subjectivity and objectivity. One day, in a mood of sublime emptiness, Subhuti was resting underneath a tree when flowers began to fall about him.
"We are praising you for your discourse on emptiness," the gods whispered to Subhuti.
"But I have not spoken of emptiness," replied Subhuti.
"You have not spoken of emptiness, we have not heard emptiness," responded the gods. "This is the true emptiness." The blossoms showered upon Subhuti as rain.
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Suiwo and the Sound of One Hand Clapping
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Suiwo, the disciple of Hakuin, was a good teacher. On a certain day a certain pupil came to him, and Suiwo gave him the problem, "Hear the sound of one hand."
The pupil remained three years, but could not pass the test. One night he came to Suiwo in tears. "I must return
to my home in shame," he said, "for I cannot solve the problem."
"Wait another week," said Suiwo. "Meditate constantly." Still no enlightenment came to the pupil. "Try for another week," said Suiwo. The pupil obeyed, but to no avail.
"Still another week," requested Suiwo, but in vain. In despair the pupil begged to be released, but Suiwo asked for one more meditation of five days. They too were without result. Then Suiwo said: "Mediate for three days longer. If you still fail to attain enlightenment, you had better kill yourself."
On the second day the pupil was enlightened.
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Tanzan and the Girl on the Road
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Tanzan and Ekido were once traveling together down a muddy road. A heavy rain was still falling.
Coming around a bend, they met a lovely girl in a silk kimono and sash, unable to cross the intersection.
"Come on, girl" said Tanzan at once. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her over the mud.
Ekido did not speak again until that night when they reached a lodging temple. Then he no longer could restrain himself. "We monks don't go near females," he told Tanzan, "especially not young and lovely ones. It is dangerous. Why did you do that?"
"I left the girl there," said Tanzan. "Are you still carrying her?"
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The Great Waves
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
In the early days of the Meiji era there lived a well-known wrestler called O-nami, Great Waves.
O-nami was immensely strong and knew the art of wrestling. In his private bouts he defeated even his teacher, but in public he was so bashful that his own pupils threw him.
O-nami felt he should go to a Zen master for help. Hakuju, a wandering teacher, was stopping in a little temple nearby, so O-nami went to see him and told him of his trouble.
"Great Waves is your name," the teacher advised, "so stay in this temple tonight. Imagine that you are those billows. You are no longer a wrestler who is afraid. You are those huge waves sweeping everything before them, swallowing all in their path. Do this and you will be the greatest wrestler in the land."
The teacher retired. O-nami sat in meditation trying to imagine himself as waves. He thought of many different things. Then gradually he turned more and more to the feeling of the waves. As the night advanced the waves became larger and larger. They swept away the flowers in their vases. Even the Buddha in the shrine was inundated. Before dawn the temple was nothing but the ebb and flow of an immense sea.
In the morning the teacher found O-nami meditating, a faint smile on his face. He patted the wrestler's shoulder. "Now nothing can disturb you," he said. "You are those waves. You will sweep everything before you."
The same day O-nami entered the wrestling contests and won. After that, no one in Japan was able to defeat him.
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The Old Woman and a Monk
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
There was an old woman in China who had supported a monk for over twenty years. She had built a little hut for him and fed him while he was meditating. Finally she wondered just what progress he had made in all this time.
To find out, she obtained the help of a girl rich in desire. "Go and embrace him," she told her, "and then ask him suddenly: 'What now?'"
The girl called upon the monk and without much ado caressed him, asking him what he was going to do about it.
"An old tree grows on a cold rock in winter," replied the monk somewhat poetically. "Nowhere is there any warmth."
The girl returned and related what he had said.
"To think I fed that fellow for twenty years!" exclaimed the old woman in anger. "He showed no consideration for your needs, no disposition to explain your condition. He need not have responded to passion, but at least he should have evidenced some compassion."
She at once went to the hut of the monk and burned it down.
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Hakuin and the Samurai
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
A soldier came to Hakuin and asked "Is there really a paradise and a hell?"
"Who are you?" inquired Hakuin.
"I am a samurai," the warrior replied.
"You, a samurai!" exclaimed Hakuin. "What kind of ruler would have you as his guard? Your face looks like that of a beggar!"
The soldier became so angry that he began to draw his sword, but Hakuin continued. "So you have a sword! Your weapon is probably as dull as your head!"
As the soldier drew his sword Hakuin remarked "Here open the gates of hell!"
At these words, the samurai, perceiving the discipline of the master, sheathed his sword and bowed.
"Here open the gates of paradise," said Hakuin.
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Happy Chinaman or Laughing Buddha
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Anyone walking about Chinatowns in America with observe statues of a stout fellow carrying a linen sack. Chinese merchants call him Happy Chinaman or Laughing Buddha.
This Hotei lived in the T'ang dynasty. He had no desire to call himself a Zen master or to gather many disciples about him. Instead he walked the streets with a big sack into which he would put gifts of candy, fruit, or doughnuts. These he would give to children who gathered around him in play. He established a kindergarten of the streets.
Whenever he met a Zen devotee he would extend his hand and say: "Give me one penny." And if anyone asked him to return to a temple to teach others, again he would reply: "Give me one penny."
Once he was about his play-work another Zen master happened along and inquired: "What is the significance of Zen?"
Hotei immediately plopped his sack down on the ground in silent answer.
"Then," asked the other, "what is the actualization of Zen?"
At once the Happy Chinaman swung the sack over his shoulder and continued on his way.
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It Is Like to Become a Thief
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Once upon a time, there were a father and a son of a family in a busy city. The father was a very skillful thief in the city. He was getting older and older and worried about his son, who was still rather young and knew nothing about his great art, would not be able to take care of himself and the great art will be missing when he dies. Afterall, the time was coming.
One late night, he made his son came along with him to a rich family at the center of the city. They hid themselves in a bush in the backyard of the rich family and were waiting until there were no more people by-passed on the street and all the members of the family were in deep sleep. And both of them started digging and digging and made a narrow and short tunnel passed under the wall and opened up inside the house. Both of them finally were in there. They saw many antique expensive things, and jewery, and diamonds, and gems... sitting on the desks in the treasure-room. The father took some jewery and diamonds, then quitely walked to the tunnel. The son was still picking up some more and did not know his father was gone until he was ready to be gone with him.
But there were many loud noises was made by his father outside the wall to wake up the people in the house. He was so upset with his father's actions but he could not do anything stop him.
Meanwhile, the homeowner lit up lamps and tried to find thieves. He knew he could not escape right away, and his eyes glanced around in seconds, he saw a big box with a lid on. Immediately, he opened the box and put himself in there and covered the lid gently to avoid making any noises. He kept himself as silent as he could in the box. When one of the people held a lamp coming close to him. He opened the lid, came out, blew out the lamp and ran back to the tunnel. People were running after him in his direction but he was faster than they were and he got into the tunnel quickly.
When he got out the tunnel and on the wayside he came to a well which he had seen before he got in the house. He picked up a rather big stepstone near the well and threw it into the well make a sound like a man falling into it.
People now got to the spot and thought that the thief should be falling into the very deep well and would be drowsy and dead in a short time and they got back into the house and got more sleep.
When the son was back to his house, his father was very glad to see his son back home in safe.
The son was still very upset with his father and complained:
-Why did you do that to me? You wanted me arrested there?
His father quietly said:
-Congratulations! My son. From now on you are able to take care of yourself. So, I will not worry about you anymore."
The art of teaching and learning in Zen is something similar to this art. No Scriptures, no Bible could help you in a situation like that. You are on your own in any situation you'd be in. At that moment you are wisdom and wisdom is you.
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My Coffin Simply Is
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Once upon a time, in a certain town there was a coffin maker who opened and was running a store where he sold the coffins he made himself to the customers in the neighborhood. The popuplation in the town increased day-by-day.
The more crowded the population, the harder the making living. The harder the making living, the more serious and intensive the struggles and fights for foods, clothes, and medicine. The number of the dead also increased fast.
The more the people were dead the more coffins were made and sold, and of course, the more works to do and the coffin maker got to hire other people to help him in selling and delivering coffins to customers.
Among the number of employees, there were two young men who were muscle and strong handled the devliver coffins to the families of the dead and they wanted to make some more extra money, therefore, they helped the relatives of the dead to put the corpses into the coffins which they sold to them.
Their jobs became more complicated. They both wanted to make it easy for themselves but each of them followed two different ways.
One realized that the sizes of the dead varied and requested his boss - the coffin maker - make coffins in different sizes from which he could select the one which fited best the corpse in each case. Therefore, his relationship to the customers was good.
Unlike this salesman, the other one requested the coffin maker make one-size coffins for him. He did not care the sizes of the dead varied at all.
When the coffin maker heard the request of the man, he was very surprised and asked the man:
-How could you make the long and the short fit into the one-size coffins?
-It's very simple, sir. If I got some dead body whose legs are longer than my coffin length, I would cut them short to fit it. When I got a dead body whose legs are shorter than it, I would use my hands, one holds and one pulls, making them longer to fit the coffin and my clients should be satisfied. Do you understand what I mean, sir?
- I am sorry I do not know what you mean, my young man. Can you explain it to me?
- Oh! It's very simple, sir! My coffin simply is, but the dead bodies are complicated. I am trying to make it simple. Do you understand, sir?
- I am sorry again, I still don't get it.
Although the owner said that to the man but he made one-size coffins for him and the salesman kept selling and delivering the one-size coffins to his customers for a while until no one bought his one-size coffins anymore with the reason: His coffin simply is!
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Shunkai's Life
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
The exquisite Shunkai whose other name was Suzu was compelled to marry against her wishes when she was quite young. Later, after this marriage had ended, she attended the university, where she studied philosophy.
To see Shunkai was to fall in love with her. Moreover, wherever she went, she herself fell in love with others. Love was with her at the university, and afterwards when philosophy did not satisfy her and she visited the temple to learn about Zen, the Zen students fell in love with her. Shunkai's whole life was saturated with love.
At last in Kyoto she became a real student of Zen. Her brothers in the sub-temple of Kennin praised her sincerity. One of them proved to be a congenial spirit and assisted her in the mastery of Zen.
The abbot of Kennin, Mokurai, Silent Thunder, was severe. He kept the precepts himself and expected the priests to do so. In modern Japan whatever zeal these priests have lost for Buddhism they seemed to have gained for having wives. Mokurai used to take a broom and chase the women away when he found them in any of his temples, but the more wives he swept out, the more seemed to come back.
In this particular temple the wife of the head priest had become jealous of Shunkai's earnestness and beauty. Hearing the students praise her serious Zen made this wife squirm and itch. Finally she spread a rumor about that Shunkai and the young man who was her friend. As a consequence he was expelled and Shunkai was removed from the temple.
"I may have made the mistake of love," thought Shunkai, "but the priest's wife shall not remain in the temple either if my friend is to be treated so unjustly."
Shunkai the same night with a can of kerosene set fire to the five-hundred-year-old temple and burned it to the ground. In the morning she found herself in the hands of the police.
A young lawyer became interested in her and endeavoured to make her sentance lighter. "Do not help me." she told him. "I might decide to do something else which will only imprison me again."
At last a sentance of seven years was completed, and Shunkai was released from the prison, where the sixty-year-old warden also had become enamored of her.
But now everyone looked upon her as a "jailbird". No one would associate with her. Even the Zen people, who are supposed to believe in enlightenment in this life and with this body, shunned her. Zen, Shunkai found, was one thing and the followers of Zen quite another. Her relatives would have nothing to do with her. She grew sick, poor, and weak.
She met a Shinshu priest who taught her the name of the Buddha of Love, and in this Shunkai found some solace and peace of mind. She passed away when she was still exquisitely beautiful and hardly thirty years old.
She wrote her own story in a futile endeavour to support herself and some of it she told to a women writer. So it reached the Japanese people. Those who rejected Shunkai, those who slandered and hated her, now read of her life with tears of remorse.
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Tetsugen and his Three Sutras
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Tetsugen, a devotee of Zen in Japan, decided to publish the sutras, which at that time were available only in
Chinese. The books were to be printed with wood blocks in an edition of seven thousand copies, a tremendous
undertaking.
Tetsugen began by travelling and collecting donations for this purpose. A few sympathizers would give him a
hundred pieces of gold, but most of the time he received only small coins. He thanked each donor with equal
gratitude. After ten years Tetsugen had enough money to begin his task.
It happened that at that time the Uji River overflowed. Famine followed. Tetsugen took the funds he had
collected for the books and spent them to save others from starvation. Then he began again his work of
collecting.
Several years afterward an epidemic spread over the country. Tetsugen again gave away what he had collected.
For a third time he started his work, and after twenty years his wish was fulfilled. The printing blocks which
produced the first edition of sutras can be seen today in Obaku monastery in Kyoto.
The Japanese tell their children that Tetsugen made three sets of sutras, and that the first two invisible sets surpass
even the last.
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The Elephant and the Five Blind Men
[25 Jul 2008 at 1:12am]
Once upon a time in a very nice city of ancient India, there were five blind young men were living together and getting along very well. They could share together many things they acquired materially and mentally. They could shared each other what they had learned, known or experienced. For example, they had learned and known how a hose, a broom, a post, a drum, a belly...looks like by listening to the descripton of someone who got good eyes and words, by using their hands touching it, or their noses smelling it, or their tongues tasting it...
One day it was very nice out, all the five of them were together taking a walk to the beautiful park at the center of the city. When they were in the park, it happened to be there an elephant with the hamout. After talking to each other, they agreed to come and ask the hamout allow them to take a "look" and "see" what the elephant really looks like. When heard the request, the hamout was very surprised but also interested in seeing how could they take a look and see the elephant. He agreed.
The hamout told the first blind man come close to the elephant's trunk and "see" it.
After used his both hands touching over the trunk of the elephant, he felt it, thought of it and finally said:
-The elephant looks exactly like a big hose, brothers!
-No! The elephant looks exactly like two big posts standing side-by-side!
The second one protested the first one because he was touching over the two fore-legs of the elephant.
-No! You both are wrong! The elephant looks exactly like a huge drum!
The third one negated the others because he was touching over the big belly of the elephant.
-Not like that at all! Three of you are wrong! The elephant looks exactly like a big broom!
The fouth one asserted, after touching the tail of the elephant for a while.
-None of you is correct! The elephant looks exactly like two fans.
The fifth declared after touching over two ears of the elephant.
The argument, at first, was going fine. Then it became a big quarrel, and afterall, a big fight.
The hamout witnessed all of what was going on, he was moved and felt pity for the five blind young men, and told them:
-Please stop fighting! None of you were correct and none of you are really wrong. Why? Because each of you only touched and knew some part of the elephant and not the whole elephant, therefore, what you touched and "saw" is separate and incomplete.
When heard these words of the hamout, the five blind young men understood. They stopped fighting, quarelling, arguing, and palm-to-palm said to the hamout, "Thank you very much! We really appreciate this."
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Bonsai Tree
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