Hasnain Raza Baloach

It was an old man wearing a frock, torn in so many places, that it seemed like the least prevalent cloth on his body was the one that the frock was originally crafted from. For the tears were joined together by patches of different colors, shapes and sizes that held firmly but were sown on with the skill of a child picking up the needle and thread for the first time. No one knew where he had come from and neither did anyone realize he was there, until they saw him sleeping in the kings very own court. They had tried to remove him, but he simply refused to budge and would say that only the owner of the “lodge” could give him that order. Not knowing what to do and not wanting to be a cause of commotion, the captain of the king’s guard had decided, that they would let him nap and await his fate delivered through the king’s hand soon enough. Surely a great lesson was in store for him.

And so, the time arrived. The court was in session. Before any talks about the current state of the realm could be initiated, the king noticed the odd commodity before him. Among the nobles, the legislatures and the administrators there lay a man, wearing what seemed like all the colors of the rainbow with his eyes closed and not a single concern for what he was doing or where he was doing it. The king was so baffled with the sight that rather than throwing him to the dungeons he called for him to be awoken and brought before him.

And so, he asked. “What are you doing here old man, don’t you know what this place is and who I am?”. The man briskly replied “Why of course I know who you are. You must be another weary traveler, a guest in this lodge with me, welcome”. And so, the king said. “Surely, either you are mistaken or a madman for this isn’t a lodge for travellers. It is the court of this realm, for which I am the king”. Instead of the expected anxiety and fear ridden apology, the man with the patched frock smiled in satisfaction and said yet again “Surely, you must be mistaken, for this is most definitely nothing more than a lodge”. At this point the king was both amused and shocked, contrasting the anger reflecting in the reactions of everyone else in his court, who stood frozen and rooted on the spot, wondering what on earth had gotten into this man. The king said to the man, “Explain to me old man, from where it looks like a lodge to you, explain for these will be the last things you will say in your life”. And then the man said to the king. “My life is not in the hands of another like me but answer me this oh traveler. Have you always been sitting on that throne or was there someone else in that throne before you?” The king replied well of course, my father was before me. The man said, “Was your father always on that throne or was there someone else before him?” The king once again replied, “Well of course, before my father, his father was on this throne and before that his father, my family has ruled this land for generations, what is the point of your questions old man?”

And finally, the man with the patched frock replied, “If your father came here and then left, his father came and left, generations have come and gone from this place, what is this place other than a lodge for a weary traveler that comes and soon leaves”. And with those words the old man walked out, not a finger barred his away, neither the king nor his kingdom stirred in that moment, for they had just learned the great lesson in store for them.