THE stinking smell of charred flesh and bones, blazed vegetation, decomposed crops and exploded bombs and missiles subsided. A few frightened children headed out to take stock of the violent world they were hiding from. The youngest among them mustered up courage and rose to his feet. He emerged from the cave and stumbled into the devastated valley between Mount Mustaqbil and Mount Hamburger. He looked around. Someone from the cave asked, “Has the war ended?”
The tiny child replied, “Seemingly, the war has ended for the time being.”
“What do you see?”
“Severed limbs, mutilated bodies and dried up blood on the boulders.”
“What else?”
“Torn clothes, caps, chapals and turbans.”
“Anything else?”
“Dead birds and animals.”
“And?”
“Heaps of twisted metal from exploded bombs and missiles.”
After some time, the boys from the cave asked, “Do you see the wounded souls of our forefathers?”
The tiny boy looked up at the sky and said, “The wounded souls of our forefathers have put on the cloak of the dark clouds hovering over the valley between Mount Mustaqbil and Mount Hamburger.”
“We are hungry. We have not eaten for months.” The boys asked, “Do you see any food around you?”
The tiny boy again took stock of the situation and said, “The world outside the cave is littered with heaps of food for thought.”
“Do you think we should emerge from the cave?” The frightened children asked.
The tiny boy said, “I see no harm if you come out in the open.”
The children hesitantly emerged from the cave. The world outside the cave was darker than the world within the cave. They looked heavenward and exclaimed, “We see no sunshine! What happened to the sun?”
The tiny boy said, “It has been covered by the wounded souls of our forefathers.”
The children looked with awe at the dark clouds hovering over the valley between Mount Mustaqbil and Mount Hamburger. Since the tiny boy had the singular privilege of being the first among the frightened children to have set his foot on the treacherous soil of the devastated valley, he took it upon himself to guide them in their search for an obscure destiny. The bewildered children stood dumbfounded, surrounded by severed limbs, rolling heads, the dead and devoured and molten metal. After some time, a sickly elder boy moistened his parched lips and said, “Where is the food?”
The tiny guide spoke with authority and said, “When it comes to choosing between food and food for thought, the wise always prefer food for thought for sustenance.”
The words of wisdom left the children amazed. They discussed among themselves and decided to tread the way of the wise. They gave up their search for food in favour of food for thought.
“You are surrounded by heaps of food for thought.” The tiny guide said, “You are at liberty to consume as much quantity of the food for thought as you can possibly digest.”
A disgruntled child picked up a few severed fingers from the soil and asked, “Friends, do you know what is the difference between carrots and these severed fingers?”
The children looked at the tiny guide for an answer. The diminutive guide thought for a while, and then said, “You can bite carrots, but you can’t bite these severed fingers.”
Thereafter, the children from the cave in Mount Mustaqbil walked through the valley littered with food for thought. Very often, they stumbled over the charred bodies of mothers, fathers and other children as well as dead doves. They looked at the wounded souls of their forefathers up in the sky. They realized they had overeaten the food for thought, and decided to return to their cave in Mount Mustaqbil.
THE stinking smell of charred flesh and bones, blazed vegetation, decomposed crops and exploded bombs and missiles subsided. A few frightened children headed out to take stock of the violent world they were hiding from. The youngest among them mustered up courage and rose to his feet. He emerged from the cave and stumbled into the devastated valley between Mount Mustaqbil and Mount Hamburger. He looked around. Someone from the cave asked, “Has the war ended?”
