The Three-Year-Old Man

[ This is an Indian fable ]

The sun was ruthless. And the King was restless. The King had then suddenly taken an interest to visiting the countryside near his town’s borderline. He was too bored.

On the way, he met an old chap. The King was taken aback to see him under the blazing sun planting some seeds into the soil. The old man’s forehead was glistening with sweat, and he seemed so fragile he might collapse the next minute.

The King felt sympathetic, “What are you doing here at this time? How old are you? Can’t you find someone else to do this?”

The old man looked up and bowed his head respectfully, “I’m three years old, Your Majesty.”

The King was suddenly furious, thinking the old chap was joking. That old man was at least eighty!

The old man looked up again, his eyes tired, “I am three-year-old because in these ninety years of my life, I have wasted eighty seven years doing nothing for our community. I was out all day drinking. Done nothing for the kingdom, the country.” He looked down, his body hanging vulnerably.

The King pulled back his anger, “Then what are you doing now?”

“Planting trees.” The old man was quick to answer, “I hope the others can benefit from the shades on hot days and maybe the fruits years later. I have no money so I am trying to do what I can.”

The King was impressed. The old man had such effort and attitude towards life. And when the King arrived back at the palace, he ordered a couple guards to go help the old chap finish his commitment.

Moral: One’s youth should be spent in a way that one will not regret in the years later when one is too old to make up.