Triveni Journal
1927 | 11,233,916 words
Triveni is a journal dedicated to ancient Indian culture, history, philosophy, art, spirituality, music and all sorts of literature. Triveni was founded at Madras in 1927 and since that time various authors have donated their creativity in the form of articles, covering many aspects of public life....
THE emperor of all the realms stood long before a hut.
He hesitated, then knocked timidly at the door. The hut was a mean flimsy thing which shut out the wholesome light and air and afforded no real resting place or shelter. It was full of cobwebs and noisome things that flitted to and fro or crept on the ground.
The inmate shifted uneasily from one room to another in dread of them. He had no real rest or comfort, but sometimes a gleam of sunshine would peep or a whiff of wind would pass through and he would say, “How happy am I in this hut”! And thus he clung to his hut. Taken up with his own fears and fancies, the inmate heard not the knock at the door. But it grew so loud and insistent that perforce he had to open the door.
And lo! the emperor of all the realms stood before him.
“I thought I heard you call me and I came,” said the emperor of all the realms.
Said the inmate abashed, “I know you not and I called you not.”
The emperor sighed and the light of sorrow and heaviness came into His eye, but withal succeeded a gleam of infinite tenderness and hope.
He smiled softly, ah so softly, and the changing lights of His eyes held the man.
And the man trembled violently and faltered, “Yes, I did call you!”
A radiance came over the emperor and He cried, “I was right after all! Why did you call me?”
“I recognised the emperor, and this hut and myself are thine. I wished to offer them to you,” said the man.
The emperor laughed and said: “I had sworn an oath not to enter unbidden the house of anyone who did not call me. You and I were eternal friends. You forget it. I waited long ages at your door, but you never called me until I grew afraid you would be lost to me forever. I wanted the least excuse to love Me, but you never granted it. I had to resort to this trick!”
Violent sobs shook the man. He fell at the feet of the emperor and cried, “What is this servant of Thine that Thou shouldst take so much care of him? Alas, that I should put my Lord to this trouble to take what has been His all along!”
And the emperor lovingly stooped, raised the man and embraced him.
When the inmate raised his head, the hut was gone and the sun streamed in his face and the fresh air. l
1 Based up on Verse 140 of Manickavachagar’s “Thirukkovai” and the word “Priyakrit” in Vishnu Sahasranama.