THE VOICE WITHIN

After a long life full of glory, riches and mastery over vast dominions, the king lay dying. He looked at his fourth queen, careworn and suffering along with him. She was his most beloved and he felt a pang. Had he not always adorned her with the finest robes, treated her to the most mouth-watering delicacies, given her nothing but the best?

“I have loved you the most, showered gifts upon you, endowed you with the best and taken great care of you. Now that my time has come, will you follow me to the afterlife?” he asked.

“That is impossible,” she replied, leaving his bedside without another word.

Deeply hurt, the king looked at his third queen. She too had been much loved, a source of constant pride to him for her beauty and many qualities. Never did he let go of any opportunity to show her off to his exalted peers. He asked her the same question.

“Certainly not! Life is too good. After your passing, I shall find another lord to take care of me,” she said and departed.

Despairing now, the king’s eyes sought out his second queen. She had always been kind, considerate and patient with him. A trusted confidante, her wise counsel and unstinted help would get him through the toughest times.

“You’ve always been there for me. Now that I am face-to-face with the great unknown, will you keep me company?” he asked earnestly.

“I’m sorry, but this time I can’t help you,” she replied sorrowfully, “At the most, I can conduct your last rites.”

As he felt all hope leaving him, the king heard his first queen call out: “I shall leave with you and walk beside you no matter where you go.”

Glancing up, the king saw her now, neglected and unloved for as long as he could remember. When was the last time he had so much as even thought about her, let alone speak a word to her or give her a cursory look?

Ashamed, he could only murmur through tears, “I should have taken better care of you when I had the chance!”

Thus it is with all of us. The fourth wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish over it, at our death it will perish. The third wife is our earthly possessions, which will go to others when we die. The second wife is our family and friends, loving, supportive and ever reliable, but the farthest they can go with us is up to the grave.

Only the first wife, our soul — neglected in the pursuit of wealth and power, forgotten in the pleasures of the flesh — stays with us wherever we go, through life and beyond. One who knows this lives life to the fullest. He cares for his body, keeps it strong and healthy. He enjoys his possessions and appreciates the comforts these provide. He cherishes his family and friends, working hard to make them happy.

Above all, he takes out quality time to nourish his soul, to reflect upon life and meditate, to still his mind and get in touch with himself. In his endless journey, it is what goes with him.

— the harbinger