In times of crisis, use the story of the horses
A long time ago, in a mountainous land, there was a village, a place so remote that no one remembers where it was. In this village, a man called Nirmalus lived in a hut with his son Bandu. All the villagers loved Nirmalus due to his generosity and great wisdom. Villagers often sought him out for guidance, and he advised without asking for anything in return.
Bandu was 19 years old. He was a strong lad who loved horses. His only possession was a beautiful and rare horse named Cavalo, a present given by the boy’s wealthy uncle, who lived in a nearby village.
Every morning, Bandu would wake up and feed his beloved animal. One morning, however, Bandu was heartbroken as he noticed Cavalo had fled to the wilderness. Knowing how much Bandu loved Cavalo, villagers gathered around.
The villagers voiced their apprehension: “Cavalo is now lost! This is very unfortunate, very unfortunate indeed,” and a small man from the crowd repeated — “very unfortunate indeed.” But Nirmalus replied. “Maybe we just don’t know."
The following day, the sun was glorious, and Bandu woke. As he stepped outside, he saw that Cavalo had returned and, to his unexpected joy, brought three wild horses with him. The villagers return to greet the boy and Nirmalus with great pleasure. They cheered with delight. “We were all wrong! The eloping horse was a very fortunate event indeed after all,” and the small man reiterated, “a very fortunate event indeed.” Nirmalus replied calmly: “Maybe, we don’t know.”
The next day, Bandu woke up early, eager to train one of the wild animals. He picked the most vibrant and young one. He jumped on the young horse’s back, which quickly reacted with a powerful rearing, and violently projected the boy on the ground, severely breaking Bandu’s arm.
As villagers witness the boy’s fall, they rush to his aid. They gather outside the hut and voice their concern: “We’re all wrong. The wild horses were a curse and not a blessing,” a small man from the crowd reiterates: “A bad curse indeed”! But Nirmauls, hearing the crowd, steps outside slowly out and calmly replies, “We don’t know; we just don’t know.”
The next morning, the villages woke up to great commotion as the king’s man passed through the village, recruiting all young men to war. Mothers watch in horror as their sons are taken from them by the merciless soldier recruiters. Only one boy was spared. Bandu could not be taken due to his badly broken arm.
The villagers again rushed to Nirmalus's home. “Oh, great Nirmalus, we’re all wrong again!” Bandu’s fall was indeed the great blessing of them all. “Bandu was protected from going to his certain death.” Please, Nirmauls, tell us, please, why do we always get everything wrong? “Nirmalus replied.
Stories have no end and no beginning. What appears to be the end is just the beginning of another chapter in life. What seems to be bad could be good, and what appears to be good could indeed be harmful. And the small man replied: “That is truth indeed.”
“In times of crisis, follow the wild horses. They roam the earth, never arriving or leaving any place. The arrival is not the end of one journey but the beginning of a new one. Life is just an endless flow; impermanence is the only constant.”
Photo by Boys in Bristol Photography from Pexels
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