Everything Happens for our own Good

EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR OUR OWN GOOD

Long ago, a king ruled over a large and prosperous kingdom. He had a beautiful palace, many servants and guards, and vast stables. At his court there were famous artists, musicians, dancers, poets, and architects. Wise ministers helped him to administer his large kingdom. Debates were held frequently, and important ideas were discussed in court.

The king was well known for his love of wisdom. However, he was extremely hot-headed and impatient. When he was annoyed by someone, he immediately had them thrown into the palace dungeons. His ministers knew his moods well; they were careful never to anger him. Some of them had, in the past, spent time in the dungeons.

Nizam Din, a wise and faithful minister, had served the king’s father and now served the present king. In his youth Nizam Din had taken part in all the great debates. These days he did not say mus. Whenever he was asked for his opinion about something he would reply, ‘Everything happens for our own good.’ Just like a parrot, he would repeat the sentence over and over, much to the king’s annoyance. Nizam Din, however, was devoted to the king and followed him wherever he went.

One day, a grand debate was organized in the palace. As the king entered the hall through a large, ornate, teak doorway, his hand brushed against the door panel and he felt a sudden stab of pain. There was a long cut on this middle finger. He examined the surface of the door. On of the small brass knobs had disappeared; in its place was a rusty nail. This annoyed the king, and he was furious. He marched briskly to his thrown and summoned the attendants. He shouted at them; he stamped his feet and threatened to have their heads cut off. Finally he had them thrown into the palace dungeons.

When the king sat down, his anger was quite plain to the assembly. His cheeks were crimson with rage! The ministers hung their heads in shame. He glowered at them and roared, ‘Now answer me this: Why have I been cut and not any of you?’ The ministers shuffled nervously and pretended to be thinking. They knew better than to enrage the king further by offering a reason. How were they answering his question? The king, looking directly at Nizam Din, repeated the question.

‘Well, you highness,’ replied the minister, ‘It is for you own good. Everything happens for your own good, indeed, quite frankly it is for, but he was not allowed to finish.’ You parrot! Screamed the king. ‘Your words mean nothing. They are just word! And you can think about them when you join the attendants in the dungeon!’

Furiously, the king turned to the guard who stood quaking nearby, and ordered him to escort the old man away. As the old minister was departing, the king shouted, ‘Old man! You will remain in the dungeon until your words can be proved. Do you understand?’

Nizam Din nodded sadly. In a choked and feeble voice he said, ‘I understand you highness. It is for my own good that I am being locked up.’

The debate never took place; the king stormed out, and the embarrassed visitors and ministers departed too.

Soon after this shocking and unpleasant incident, the king returned to his old form, but he had completely forgotten about his old minister. It was a case of ‘Out of sight, Out of mind’. Nizam Din was still locked away!

Then, One day, the king was reminded of him.

‘I cannot let him out,’ said the king, in his most regal and stubborn manner, ‘Until his words are proved correct. The wound on my hand is still raw and infected. Was this for my own good? Bah! Still, it is not going to stop me from going hunting tomorrow.’

The next morning, the king and his friends rode out of the city on horseback. At midday they arrived at the thick forest. After the hot and dusty journey, the hunting party was relieved when the arrived at the cool river. They dismounted to rest. The king, although tired and hungry, did not wait. He took his bow and a quiver of arrows and set off, on foot, along the bank of the river.

‘I shall bring back some tasty meat for our dinner,’ he shouted, making his way over the rocks and disappearing into the forest. Half an hour later the king felt tired. The forest was quite, the birds and animals were resting. The king had been in the scorching sun all morning and his injured finger throbbed and ached from holding his horse’s reins. He sat down on a large flat rock that sloped towards the river. The soft breeze and the gentle gurgling of the water made him drowsy. He lay down and was soon lulled into a deep sleep. Suddenly, the king was woken by a loud roar. He opened one eye and caught a glimpse of the yellow and the black strips of what was unmistakably a tiger. It came up to the king in two long bounds. The king lay very still, kept his eyes shut and prayed.         

The tiger, sniffing and growling, prowled round the king. The terrified king did not move a muscle. After few minutes the tiger left, and the king cautiously sat up and looked nervously into the undergrowth. The tiger had gone, so he quickly made his way back to his friends.

The king was badly shaken and certainly did not want to spend the night in the forest.

He announced that they would return immediately. His friends did not argue but groaned quietly as they all departed.

The following morning the king summoned his ministers. He told them about his experience with the tiger

‘Can any of you wise men explain why the tiger did not attack or eat me?’ he asked.

One minister said boldly, ‘Your majesty, a tiger never touches a devours a man who is injured.’

The king glanced at his swollen finger. The wound had opened up and was causing him great discomfort. It was then when he reminded of Nizam Din. He went immediately to the dungeon and released Nizam Din personally. Then he embraced him warmly and apologized for his behavior.

‘My old and trusted friend,’ said the king, ‘I have wronged you. It was truly for my own good that I received the cut. Your words have been proved beyond doubt.’

The king brought Nizam Din into the hall and explained to the assembly why he had set him free. All the ministers cheered loudly.

When the cheering had died down, the king spoke.

‘Nizam Din,’ he said, ‘now answer me this. It was for my own good that I was injured, but what good did it do you to be locked up in the dungeon?’

With a twinkle in his eye and a broad smile, the old man answered.

‘My lord! You know how devoted I am to you. If I had not been thrown into prison I would have come hunting with you, I would have followed you to the river. The tiger would attack me!’

The king impressed with Nizam Din’s answer. He showered him with honours and rich gifts. On a stone in front of the palace he ordered his craftsmen to crave in larger letters,