2001-05-24 - 10:11 p.m.
#64: No Need for Storytime
Note to self: Cooked up this story in the weird asleep/awake like area of sleepiness. Seemed like a good idea to get it down immediately so, uh, I did. I think it's a bit too short to be considered a short story.... Can't believe it took a better half of 4 hours to write. O.o
There was once a young man who lived in a small village at the foot of a mountain in the country of what is now known as Tibet. He had been raised since childbirth upon goats milk, and as he grew older so did his palate to include meats, fruits and vegetables that had been grown in that village. He was a strong, virile youth who was able of body and broad of back. But he was also an inquisitive one, and he was most curious about the going ons outside of the village. He questioned those his elder about such things, but they had no answer for him, for they themselves had never left the village and never sought to find out about the world outside their own. Such questions bothered them, and so they gave him tasks to perform to keep his hands full and his mind empty of such thought. They had him plow fields and seed them, shepherd flocks of goat, construct dams and bridges for a nearby river, and these tasks he took to readily, for he was a strong young man and capable of completing such chores.
But at the end of the day, when afternoon turned to dusk and dusk turned to evening and then to night, there was still a scant time of waking where the young man would ask his questions about the world outside. Night after night he continued his questioning despite the fruitless responses he had been given, and the elders grew ever weary of his curiousity. Thus, by day he was accepted in the village for his labours, but by night he was disdained for his inquisitiveness. But far be it for the young man to give up, instead his desire for knowledge became stronger. He felt as if some vast secret was being kept from him, and he doggedly refused to give up chasing after that secret.
And then one day he learned the legend of the wise old hermit who lived on the mountain. This was a story that had been passed down much earlier to the other youths of the village, but to him it had been late, for his elders had to put up with his insufferable questioning. Thus stories meant to be told in a single night had to be placed into several to allow for all his questions and their answers. The legend spoke of an old man who lived in isolated bliss on the side of the villages mountain, in order that he might gain deeper understanding of the world about him. Such was the breadth and depth of his knowledge so the story went, that the old man could answer all questions put to him, and several without even being asked. But in order to gain audience with the hermit, one had to scale the side of the perilous mountain, a journey so dangerous that seldom few survive. And thus the legend of the old wise hermit ended.
Through the entire story the young man listened, rapt with attention and for once completely silent. When his elders reached the end of the tale, he asked if any in the village had ever spoken with the old hermit. They told him there had been foolhardy youths in the past who had tried to find the hermit of this legend, but in the end it was but a legend. And as everyone knows, legends are merely tales to amuse the young, and whatever truth that lay in them are so little as to be none at all. But the youth was not convinced, and he made plans to seek out the old hermit on his own. His elders raised a voice in protest, but they did not raise them loudly, for they felt that this would be the best way to teach the young man to keep silent his questions and be happy as he was.
The next day, the young man set about to ready himself for his journey. He took a small satchel made of rough cloth and filled it with dried meat and cheeses, taking as much as he could carry from his stores for he was not sure when he would come back. Then he filled a bag of toughened leather with water from the river, and finally he found himself a stout branch to use as a walking stick, so that he might find the weight of the food and water on his shoulders easier with its support. And then he set off towards the mountain to seek the old hermit and fulfill his curiosity.
The days passed as he wandered about the face of the mountain, searching for foot and hand holds to pull himself higher and towards the summit where he imagined the old hermit to be. He rationed his food and water carefully, but even with this careful deliberation they disappeared in only a few weeks. With his supplies gone, his stout walking stick became a burden and he threw it aside in favour of a faster pace. The nights grew colder as he rose higher into the sky, and he learned to find shelter on the mountain, seeking small caves and rocky depressions where he could huddle himself into a ball to keep warm. He also learned to hunt and kill wild rabbits for food, and when there were no rabbits to hunt he sought the dark damp places where moss and insects reside and made a meal of each. Water could be found in the form of mountain streams or still ponds where the rain had collected into a small basin. He learned all this and spent further weeks upon the mountain, never giving up his search. The weeks turned to months. And the months stretched out their way into a year, but his quest for knowledge continued unabated.
And then one day, after a year of wandering the mountain, the young man came upon a lopsided, dilapidated house, its timber was gray and sagging with the rot of age. To one side was a small garden filled herbs and vegetables and to the side of that was a small pen fill with goats both old and young. Realising that he must have at last found the knowledge he had sought after, he fell to his knees and prostrated himself on the ground, calling out, "Wise old hermit! I have come from afar to seek the knowledge that only you possess! Please, teach me so that I may understand the world that lies beyond my own!"
Silence greeted his proclaimation. And then, came to the young mans ears the sound of footstops slowly making their way over a wooden floor. When they stopped, the young man looked up to see the wise old hermit. He was advancing in his years, his figure was thin and spindly and his hair was wild and unruly, forming a mane of snowy white about his shoulders. His face was also wrinkled with age, although nothing else appeared to be extraordinary about it beyond the eyes. The hermits eyes wore a look of kind benevolence and when he spoke, the young man heard no hint of rancor or deceit when he said, "I am but a humble old man. I have nothing to teach that which you do not already know. Return to your village for there is nothing to be learnt here." And with that answering statement, the hermit turned back to his hut and left the youth outside.
But the young man was not discouraged so easily, for he knew that perhaps the wise hermit used this method in order to test those worthy of the answers. So he stayed where he was, waiting for the wise old hermit to accept him as a partaker of his knowledge. The wise old hermit did not mind this at all, and instead shared with the young man food from his store and shelter in his home. In return, the young man learned to tend to the garden and goats, raising and keeping them as the old man would have. The days and seasons passed quietly in this way, with the two speaking nary a word to each other. And at the end of the passing year, the young man asked again, "Wise old hermit! I have come from afar to seek the knowledge that only you possess! Please, teach me so that I may understand the world that lies beyond my own!" and with eyes of kind benevolence, the hermit answered again, "I am but a humble old man. I have nothing to teach that which you do not already know. Return to your village for there is nothing to be learnt here."
And so the young man took more duties of the old man for his own, in order that he may impress him with his hard working nature. He seeded one half of the garden and lay the other fallow, so that crops may be gathered for both this year and the next and the year after that. He kept a shepherds eye on the goats, raising the offspring, milking the young, and slaughtering the mature for meat. He sought out timber and sturdy pieces of wood and made repairs upon the house the pair were reliant upon to offer shelter. He did all these things and at the end of the year, the young man asked again, "Wise old hermit! I have come from afar to seek the knowledge that only you possess! Please, teach me so that I may understand the world that lies beyond my own!" and with eyes of kind benevolence, the hermit answered again, "I am but a humble old man. I have nothing to teach that which you do not already know. Return to your village for there is nothing to be learnt here."
A further year passed. And then another. The young man performed many tasks for the old hermit in this time and at the end of every year he would ask the same question and the old hermit, with eyes of kind benevolence, would give the same answer. And in the passage of this time, the young man imagined that the benevolent look of kindness to be feigned, and that it was in reality masking the hermits haughty eyes. Eyes that who knew a secret he wished not to share. This feeling grew and grew in intensity, for while the young man wore the mantle of patience, within his breast there burned a cold and wicked jealousy. And this jealousy did cloud the young mans judgement and he resolved to obtain his share of knowledge at the years end.
And at the end of another year, the young man asked his question, "Wise old hermit! I have come from afar to seek the knowledge that only you possess! Please, teach me so that I may understand the world that lies beyond my own!" and with eyes of kind benevolence, the hermit answered in the same way, "I am but a humble old man. I have nothing to teach that which you do not already know. Return to your village for there is nothing to be learnt here.". When he heard this answer yet again, the young man fell to his knees as he had the first day he met the hermit and beseeched him, saying, "Wise old hermit! I have done these great deeds for you and your home! Surely I am deserving of some reward, as a servant is of a morsel of food when he has obediently finished his tasks!".
But the hermit was silent, and turned away from the young man as if in disapproval. And in a sudden rage, the young man stood up and struck the hermit across the head and back, dashing his body to the ground. And when the old hermit did not raise himself to rebuke him, nor move from the spot that he lay, the young man realised that he had killed him. With this realisation also did strike a wave of guilt, for the hermit was an old man, sick and frail with age, and to strike him down had been an act of contemption. Weeping over what his selfish need for knowledge had wrought, he buried the old man and vowed to stay and watch over him in vigilance as a means of penance for his sin.
And for years the young man kept his promise, watching over the old mans grave, as well as tending to his garden and goats. And as the years went by the young mans hair grew snowy white, his muscles became limp and lifeless and his limbs hung uselessly about his body. And one day he discovered that was no longer a young man, but had become an old man, as sick and as frail as the hermit had been. He was no longer able to perform all the tasks expected of the upkeep of the hermits home, but he kept his vigilance in honour of the death he had caused, all the same.
And one day, while resting in the old hermits home, the old man heard a voice from outside of the house, proclaiming, "Wise old hermit! I have come from afar to seek the knowledge that only you possess! Please, teach me so that I may understand the world that lies beyond my own!". And the old man stepped outside to see who had called and saw a young man kneeling in front of his door and looking up expectantly at him.
And the old man, with a benevolent look in his eyes, replied, "I am but a humble old man. I have nothing to teach that which you do not already know. Return to your village for there is nothing to be learnt here." And with that answering statement, the hermit turned back to his hut and left the youth outside.
(rewrote the ending a bit after reading it through a second time so that it would flow better. It's now just a teeeeeeensy bit shorter than my longest entry yet)
