​see also: The Three Perceptives

The Tale of Melon City

The ruler of a certain city one day decided that he would like a triumphal arch built, so that he could ride under it with all pomp, for the desirable edification of the multitude.  But when the great moment came, his crown was knocked off:   The arch had been built too low.

The ruler therefore ordained, in his rightful wrath, that the chief of the builders should be hanged.  Gallows were prepared, but – as he was being taken to the place of execution – the Master-Builder called out that it was all the fault of the workmen, who had done the actual construction job.

The king, with his customary sense of  justice, called the workers to account.  But they escaped the charge by explaining that the masons had made the bricks of the wrong size.  And the masons said that they had only carried out the orders of the architect.  He, in turn, reminded the king that his Majesty had, at the last moment, made some amendments of this own to the plans, changing them.

“Summon the wisest man in the country,” said the ruler, “for this is undoubtedly a difficult problem, and we need counsel.”

The wisest man was carried in, unable to stand on his own feet, so ancient (and therefore so wise) was he.  “It is evident,” he quavered, “that in law the actual culprit must be punished, and that is, in this case, quite evidently, none other than the arch itself.”

Applauding his decision, the King ordered that the offending arch be carried to the scaffold.  But as it was being taken there, one of the Royal Councilors pointed out that his arch was something which had actually touched the august head of the monarch, and must surely never be disgraced by the rope of execution.

As in the meantime, exhausted by his exertions, the venerable wise man had breathed his last, the people were unable to apply to him for an interpretation of this new observation.  The doctors of Law, however, decreed that the lower part of the arch, which had not touched anything at all, could be hanged for the crime of the whole arch.

But when the executioner tried to put the arch into the noose, he found that the rope was too short.  The rope-maker was called, but he soon explained that in his opinion it was the scaffold that was too high.  He suggested that the carpenters were at fault.

“The crowd is getting impatient,” said the king, “and we must therefore quickly find someone to hang.  We can postpone the consideration of finer points like guilt until a later, more convenient, occasion.”

In a surprisingly short time, all the people in the city had been carefully measured, but only one was found to be tall enough to fit the gallows.  It was the king himself.  Such was the popular enthusiasm of the discovery of a man who would fit, that the king had to conform, and he was hanged.

“Thank goodness we found someone,” said the Prime Minister, “for if we had not satisfied the appetite of the mob, they would undoubtedly have turned against the Crown.”

But there were important matters to consider, for almost at once it was realized that the king was dead.  “In conformity with custom,” announced the heralds in the streets, “the first man who passes the city gate shall decide who is to be our next great ruler.”

The very next man to wander past the gate was an idiot.  He was quite unlike the ordinary sensible citizens with whom we have become familiar, and when he was asked who should be king, immediately said:  “A melon.”  This was because he always said “A melon” to every question.  In fact, he thought about nothing else, being very fond of melons.

And thus it came about that a melon was, with due ceremony, crowned.

Now that was years and years ago.  Nowadays, when people ask, the inhabitants of that land why their king seems to be a melon, they say:  “Because of the customary choice.  His majesty evidently desires to be a melon.  Certainly we shall allow him to remain one until his further pleasure be known.  He has, in our country, every right to be what he wants to be.  We are content with that, so long as he does not interfere in our lives.”

from Caravan of Dreams
 by Idries Shah

Idries Shah (1924-1996) was a prolific was a prolific Indian author and teacher in the Sufi tradition.  He wrote over three dozen books on topics ranging from collections of Sufi folk tales to psychology, spirituality, travelogues, and cultural studies.

from Wikipedia:

In his writings, Shah presented Sufism as a universal form of wisdom that predated Islam. Emphasizing that Sufism was not static but always adapted itself to the current time, place and people, he framed his teaching in Western psychological terms. Shah made extensive use of traditional teaching stories and parables, texts that contained multiple layers of meaning designed to trigger insight and self-reflection in the reader.

For more on Idries Shah, click here. or the Wikipedia entry here.

The reader is also pointed to “The Tale of Melon City” — a poem by Vikram Seth which was adapted from the Idries Shah story and can be found here.  It’s the same story with different words, set into couplets.  The poem is part of the curriculum of study for India’s Central Board of Secondary Education (CBSE) classwork.  On the web are dozens of entries on this poem, including plays, videos, slide shows, and analyses as well as dozens more entries for paid schools and test-prep companies.  The lessons appear to be part of an English-language program in India.  A search [click here] shows the wide variety of teaching methods, designed for young people who are hungry to learn.