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Once upon a time there was a
gardener who was the best one in the world. People would come from all over
to see his magnificent garden which was easily the most beautiful ever made
or maintained by any human being. It had the thickest and most exactingly
manicured grass laid in waves of verdant landscape and lawns that undulated
into the horizon as far as the eye could see. In between and all along were
rows and rows of never-ending beds of flowers of every description along
with bursts of floral bounty that decorated the greenery with rich colour
and rare aroma. Visitors would go away shaking their heads in disbelief
wondering how any gardener could be so good.
What they didn't know was the
gardener's secret was simple: he hated weeds. The hate was a
deep-seated complex emotion that devoured him from inside. He loathed their
growth like no man had ever loathed them before in history. In fact, so
great was his hate that he would get up early in the morning every day
before even a single bird or the Sun had arisen and go over every inch of
the garden looking for weeds. When he found one he would uproot it with a
roar of anguish and triumph and trample on it repeatedly so that it was
destroyed forever, never to come to life again.
Needless to say this was
gradually beginning to anger the god of weeds no end. When he couldn't take
it any longer he went to the god of gardens one day and said, "I realise you
must be quite kicked with this guy but I' am sure even you appreciate that
he must be made to understand that without weeds there can be no garden."
The god of gardens looked a little sheepish and replied, "Yes of
course you're perfectly correct. I was just getting carried away by his
devotion. We must do something."
So from the very next day
weeds stopped growing in the garden. At first the gardener was overjoyed.
But soon he grew despondent because without his all-consuming anger against
weeds he could no longer channel his passion towards looking after the
garden. Slowly it fell into disrepair and ultimately became a total mess.
Now it was the god of garden's turn to be cheesed off. He went to the god of
weeds and said. I realise you must be quite kicked with this guy but I'm
sure even you appreciate that without weeds there can be no garden." Moral:
Weeds also need gardens to flourish. |
