Count not your chickens before they are hatched

Amrita was a poor milk maid. She lived in a hamlet close to a town. Often she wished she were rich. But how! She did not know. Then she got a bright idea. She went to one of the rich cattle owners and said, "Will you give me milk on credit? I will take the milk to the town, sell it and make some profit." The villager agreed. Next morning, she collected the milk from the villager. She held them in two pots. She added some water to increase the quantity of milk. "Nobody will notice it. This way I will make more profit. I will become rich", she thought. Her fancy wandered, "I will become rich. I will buy a few hens. They will lay eggs. I will sell most of the eggs. Some of the eggs will hatch. When the chicks grow, they will give me more eggs. When I have put by enough money, I will buy a cow. The cow will give me milk. I will sell the milk. I will buy more cows. Soon I will have enough money to settle down with a man. We will have children. If my son or daughter misbehaves, I will hit the brat thus," she raised the stick and waved it wildly. The blow fell on the pots on her head. The pots broke. She was totally drenched in milk as it flowed down to the ground. With that ended all her dreams of making a rich profit by selling milk. She had counted the chickens before they were hatched.

Meaning: No man should take the future for granted. One can make plans for the future and work on them. At the same time he should know that even the best of the plans can go wrong. So one should be ready for unexpected reverses.

Alternatives: Don't build castles in the air.

Wisdom is nothing but earthly commonsense

An old villager was travelling along a narrow path which cut through thick vegetation. He had never been to school. He could neither read nor write. Yet everyone in the village considered him a wise man. He was indeed wise. He knew a lot about human nature. But he always had time to gather more wisdom. He did that by keeping his eyes and ears open. The music of birds caught his ears as he walked along the path. A folk tune came to his mind. He hummed it, swung the cane in his hand to provide the beats for the music. Then his eyes fell on the leaves of edible plants which stood on either side. Some animal had eaten up the leaves of plants on the right side, but not of plants to the left. "Ah, he told himself. Its right eye must be blind." He walked a few more steps when he found footprints of the animal. Not all footprints were equally firm and clear. The villager searched for the reason. Then the truth struck him. The animal was lame in one leg. Which leg? the villager sought. He studied the imprints. Then he told himself, "It's the hind leg, the left one, that is short." A further study proved that the animal was a horse. The footprints were not deep. The old villager mumbled, "nobody was riding the horse. It must have strayed." Hardly had he put all the facts together when a scholarly looking man ran in. He asked the villager, "Did you see my horse?" The villager asked, "Your horse? Is it blind in the right eye?" The new comer exclaimed, "You are right! How did you know?" The villager enquired, "Does it limp on its hind leg . . . the left leg?" "Of course. That is my horse. Where is it?" The man asked. "How do I know? I never set eyes on your horse," the villager replied. That made the man angry. He shouted, "You have stolen my horse. Give it back to me. Or I will complain to the village chief." "Do it. I am not afraid. I am no thief," the villager growled. "Come with me. We will go to the chief," the man dragged the old man along. The chief heard the complaint. Then he asked the old villager, "What do you have to say?" The villager explained how he had found out details about the horse. The chief growled at the complainant, "Go and find out your horse yourself. Don't waste time making false complaints." Then he smiled at the villager and said, "Society needs people like you." The wise man commented, "wisdom is nothing but earthly common sense. One needs to only look around carefully to find out facts."


Meaning: One need not go to schools; or read books to become wise. Life is the best teacher. A student of life gathers earthly common sense. Thus he gains wisdom.

Alternatives: Learning doesn't by itself make one wise. Wisdom is superior to knowledge.

Unity is strength

The old villager was on his deathbed. His three sons stood around the bed. They looked worried. "I shall fetch the avid," the eldest son started moving out, when his father broke out into a cough. The old man raised his hand and signalled to his eldest son to come back. Once the cough subsided, he whispered, "Go to the backyard. You will find a bundle of twigs. Bring it over here." "Why do you need them, now? Relax. You need rest," the eldest son spoke softly yet firmly. "Do what I tell you," the old man looked at his youngest son. The son ran out to fetch the bundle. The other two rubbed his feet and chest to relieve him of pain. The son brought the bundle of twigs and placed it a little distance away from the cot. The old man smiled, wanly, and told his eldest son, "Try to break the bundle, at the middle."
The sons looked at each other. They thought the old man had turned mad. Yet none of them dared disobey him. The eldest son held the bundle of twigs, at both ends. He pressed down at the ends with all the strength at his command. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His muscles rippled. He tried, many times. Then he gave up. "No, Papa. I can't do that." The old man directed his second son and then his last son to try to break the bundle at the middle. Both of them gave up, after trying their best.
The old man chuckled to himself. He turned to his eldest son, "Now, pull out one twig and break it in the middle." The eldest son did that easily. The second and the third son too could do that without any difficulty. "Got the message", the old man asked. "What message?" The sons asked in one voice. "The twigs could not be broken at the middle so long as they were together, in the bundle. But the moment a twig got all alone, it was broken easily. There is a message in that. If you remain united, nobody can harm you. In unity lies strength. Don't forget that truth," the old man managed to say it, before another bout of cough gripped him.


Meaning: There are many things one can do on his own; many other things need collective effort. Major projects need people to work together as a team. For example, India won freedom in 1947 after we fought untidily against the British rule. The defence forces worked in unison to defend the borders of the nation. Often children climb fences standing on each other's shoulders.

Alternatives: Two are better than one. United we stand. Divided we fall.

Truth always triumphs

Maharaj Harishchandra was a noble ruler. He was kind and generous. Honesty was dearer to him than life. Even the gods respected him. So did the sages. One day the gods and the sages got together. During the talks, someone said, "When it comes to honesty, Maharaja Harishchandra is the greatest." "He is honest, I agree. He can afford to be honest. He has everything . . . wealth, power and a loving family. Adversity makes men dishonest. Will Maharaj Harishchandra remain honest if he runs into trouble?" asked Sage Vishwamitra. "Why don't you find out?" The gods teased the sage. The sage set out on that task. He met Harishchandra and sought, in alms, his kingdom, his wealth and possessions. Harishchandra gave them away happily. He walked out of the palace, with his wife and son in tow. He had nothing to call his own... no place to live; no job; no income. He sold his wife and child to clear some dues. To pay off the debt, he sold himself to a man who ran the burial ground. The sage came to him and said, "Tell one lie. Just one lie. And you will get back everything." Maharaj Harishchandra politely re- plied, "Satyameva Jayate."
One day, he was at work on the burial ground when his wife came there carrying the dead body of their son. The boy was bitten by a snake and had died. She had no money to arrange for firewood. Maharaj Harishchandra too wept bitterly. But he refused to allow the body to be cremated unless she paid for the firewood. Once again, the sage appeared before the Maharaj. He asked, "How can you be so heartless? Cremate the body of your son. Your master will never come to know of your act." "My master trusts me. I shall never be unworthy of his trust," Maharaja Harishchandra said in a voice choked with pain. The sage was immensely pleased. He restored to Maharaj Harishchandra his kingdom and his wife. With his mystic powers, he brought his son to life. He hailed Maharaja Harishchandra and added, "You have proved that truth always triumphs."



Meaning: Be honest. Be truthful. Success will be yours in the end.

Alternatives: Honesty is the best policy. Truth is God.

Tit for tat

The fox, it is said, is always up to some mischief or the other. Many are the stories which tell us of the exploits of the fox. Here is one about a fox and a stork. The stork received an invitation for dinner from the fox. The bird accepted the invitation. It dreamt of a grand dinner. What would be served? The stork had no idea. But it hoped that the fox would serve fish and crabs. "Ah, that would indeed be great!" The stork muttered to itself. At the appointed hour for dinner, the stork turned up at the fox's den. The fox welcomed the stork with a big grin. "Come, my friend. Thank you for graciously accepting my invitation over here," the fox led the stork to a large shallow basin which contained delicious soup. "Yam, Yam," the stork clanked its beak and got ready. It put its beak in, but got hardly an ounce of soup in. It raised its beak, up in the air, to get the soup drip down to its throat. The fox, in the meanwhile, started lapping up the soup. The fox drank up almost all of the soup. The poor stork got merely a few drops. "I hope you enjoyed the dinner," the fox pulled out a napkin and handed it to the stork to clean its beak. The stork stomped out, angry and hungry. And, as it moved away, the fox burst into laughter. The stork felt cheated. It muttered to itself, "I won't let him get away. I will invite him for dinner and see that he gets nowhere near the food."
The stork did not show its anger. It came to the fox, a few days later, and said, "Thank you for the delicious dinner. It is now my turn to offer you dinner. Come next Saturday, at 8 pm." The fox agreed. On the appointed day, the fox ran through the bush, cut through the open and reached the stork's place. "Come, my friend. Let us dine in style," the stork welcomed the fox. The fox sniffed the air and said, "I smell delicious fish and crabs." The stork clanked its beak, while leading the fox to a narrow necked tall jar. The stork invited the fox to have its fill. The stork put its beak in, picked up a crab and made a meal of it. Then it stood aside. The fox tried to push its head in, but the neck of the jar was too narrow. All that the fox could get was the smell of the dish in the jar. The stork had its fill. The fox got nothing. Angrily the fox stomped out, while the stork shouted from the back, "That was a tit for tat".


Meaning: To take revenge To treat a person in the same way as he treats others.

Alternatives: A tooth for a tooth. An eye for an eye. To give back in one's own coin.

To kill two birds with one stone

Tenaliraman was a great wit. He was a superstar at the court of Krishnadevaraya, the ruler of Vijayanagaram. One day, he was held up at the Royal court til I late in the evening. Night had fallen when he neared his house. He stopped on hearing some whispers. He kept himself in the dark and listened. "Tenaliraman is very rich and we have nothing. By tomorrow morning we will be rich and he will have nothing," said the whispering voice. "You said it," someone else replied. Tenaliraman guessed that the thieves were after his wealth. He hurried to his house, while working out a plan to keep the thieves at bay. He knocked the door. His wife checked his identity and held the door open. Tenaliraman moved in and sat on the swing. His wife closed the door behind him and hurried to fetch a glass of milk for him. Then she complained, "The rice plants in our fields... behind our house... are wilting. If you don't water them quickly, they will die."Tenaliraman replied,"! know. But first things first. Come...."
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He led her to the backyard. He dragged a big box and packed it with bricks and stones. His wife wondered what he was up to. "Let us move this and drop it into the well," Tenaliraman said. "But why?" She asked. Tenaliraman called her closer and explained. Her face turned pale. But he said happily, "This is a chance to get water to our fields." His wife could not make head or tail of his words. The two dragged the box to the well. "Give me a hand", Tenaliraman said. He lifted one end of the box. His wife held the other end. They held it over the rim of the wall that ran round the well and then let go. The box dropped down, hit the water with a big splash and went down. "Now, dear, no thief can walk away with our wealth. The box holds everything. . . gold and silver, ornaments and jewels," Tenaliraman spoke loudly.
The thieves, hiding in the branches of the tree, heard the comment. They could not believe their luck. They waited till the couple went inside and bolted the door. A little later, the thieves came down from the tree. They approached the well. They saw a large bucket and the rope tied to it. The free end of the rope was tied to a stout tree.The thieves took turns to draw water from the well. They emptied the water into the drain which ran all the way to the fields behind Tenaliraman's house. It was nearly dawn when the thieves could seethe rim of the box. "I will go down and tie the rope to the box. Then we will pull it out," one of the thieves got down. A little later, the two managed to haul the box up. Eagerly they broke open the lock and raised the lid. Then they got a real shock. The box contained no jewels, no gold or silver coins or ornaments. Bricks and stones greeted the thieves. They cursed their fate and wanted to run away, when they heard footsteps drawing near. As they turned around, they saw Tenal iraman coming towards them with guards. The thieves were arrested there and then. Later in the morning, Tenaliraman led his wife to the well and then to the fields and said, "What do you think of my trick! The thieves fetched water to our fields. And they worked free." "You are really a genius. You killed two birds with one stone," his wife smiled.

Meaning: To get double benefits. To make the best of a situation and gain extra advantage.

Alternative: To have a cake and eat it too

None but the brave deserve the crown

It was September 14, 1994. Children trudged their way to the Rajiv Gandhi Vidyalaya, in East Delhi, daring heavy rains. 11 year-old Deepak walked, holding the satchel, which was water- proof, above the head. That was the only protection he had. He skirted the puddles. When speeding cars or buses ran over potholes and forced muddy water to take to the air in arcs, he ducked to avoid a direct hit. "This must be the last rain of the season. Belated rains. No one expected such a down pour in mid September!" Deepak mumbled, as he turned in, at the gate of the school. He entered the class. He was wet all over. So were his classmates. There was nothing they could do about it. Deepak turned to a friend and repeated a proverb he had heard, a few days back, "What cannot be cured must be endured." The children took their seats. The teacher came and started the lesson. A drop of water hit Deepak on the head. He raised his head. His eyes fell on the ceiling. The ceiling was dotted with little drops of water. Where had the bubbles of water come from? Then he saw light. He told the friend who sat by h is side, "Water is gathering on the roof. That is dangerous. The roof will collapse." The friend hissed, "Who will run out to the terrace and get drenched?" Deepak decided to act. He stood up and, when the teacher turned to him, "Can I go out for a minute?" he asked. The teacher frowned. She gave him a stern stare and thundered, "Why do you want to go?" "Look at the ceiling, Ma'am..." Deepak ran out, without waiting for formal permission. He ran like one possessed. He dared the heavy downpour. His boots sank into the sodden grass. His eyes ran all along the parapet wall of the roof and stopped on sighting the outlet which normally drained out the water from the roof. He found that it was choked. A flap of the tarpaulin tent was firmly stuck into the outlet. "That must be removed quickly. Otherwise water will gather on the roof. And the roof will come down. And then . . . ." fear gripped Deepak. The answer came to him, instantly. Anything sharp could pierce the tarpaulin. Where could he get it? Why not borrow an ice pick or a screw driver or a long rod from the shop outside? He dashed to the shop. The shop keeper was drumming on the table, keeping beats with the pitter patter of the rain. Deepak said, "Quick. Give me something sharp?" "What for?" The man asked. "There is no time to explain," Deepak turned his eyes around, saw what he wanted, grabbed it and sped to the school com- pound. His feet pounded away on the staircase. There was knee- deep water on the roof. Waves formed on the surface as he pushed his way through water and reached the outlet. Then, with a quick move, he pushed the sharp rod through the outlet, on to the tarpaulin. He repeated the move, till the tarpaulin had a gaping hole. It no longer blocked the water. The water found an outlet.
Deepak stood there, unaware that the teachers and the students had gathered on the lawn, watching his every move with admiration. He heaved a sigh of relief when the water level came down. "We are saved. All of us... the teachers, the students, the clerks and the staff. We would have been crushed to death if the roof had come down," he said loudly, as he ran down the stairs, into a sea of admiring crowd. His teacher pushed her way to him. She held him in a warm hug and said, in a voice, choking with emotion, "You rose to the occasion, Deepak. You acted in time and saved our lives. You are our hero. And you will remain a hero to us, always." Deepak was honoured, on August 15, 1996, by the Chief Minister of Delhi with the Jeevan Raksha Padak. And everybody said, "None but the brave deserve the crown."

Meaning: Only a person who has courage achieves name, fame and success in life.

Alternative: Nothing ventured nothing gained.

Tact wins where might fails

Franklin Roosevelt, President of the Unites States, appointed J.F.T. O'Connor of Los Angeles as the Comptroller of Currency. It marked a proud moment for the people of Los Angeles. A few influential people of the town organised a luncheon in the honour of O'Connor. The elite of the town were invited. Business tycoons rubbed shoulders with rich landlords. Professors and professionals had a gala time. A large number of women too attended the function. O'Connor thanked the organisers for the honour. He went round, greeting friends and acquaintances. He stopped on seeing one of the leading film stars. She was young, extremely beautiful and charming. He greeted her warmly. "Glad that you could come. You give Colour to the settings," O'Connor complimented her. "Thank you. All of us, here, are happy at your success in politics." She paused, held him by the arm and enquired, "Is it true, my dear Sir, that you plan to issue a new set of currency notes with a different design?" "You seem to be well-informed," O'Connor dodged. But she did not drop the topic. "Why can't you, my dear Mr O'Connor, put my profile on the new currency notes?" She asked. That took O'Connor by surprise. He had least expected such a suggestion. The very idea was preposterous. How could he make her understand without sounding rude? He realised the need to be tactful. "Wonderful," he pressed her hand, gently, and showed his joy. Her eyes sparkled with delight. Then he added, rather sadly, "However I'm afraid I can't comply with your request. I certainly regret not being able to do so. But you know the President is opposed to hoarding and I know that if the young men get their hands on the money, with your picture on it, they would never turn it loose." She got the message. He had turned her request down. Yet she did not feel the slightest hurt. In fact she felt happy because he had paid a tribute to her beauty. Tact saved the day for O'Connor.


Meaning: Might wins victory in battles and bouts. But it fails in coping with difficult situations during social interaction. Then tact comes into play and triumphs.

Alternatives: Tact cuts painlessly. Diplomacy, without tact, is like an egg without salt.

Slow and steady wins the race

A hare stood at the edge of a pool and admired its reflection in the water, saying, "I am fit and trim. I have lovely eyes and strong limbs. I can run faster than most animals," Then it saw a tortoise clumsily moving up the bank of the pool. The tortoise was struggling to get firm hold over the slippery slope. The hare laughed at the tortoise and said, "It is a hard climb for you. For me, it is but a quick bounce." The tortoise felt hurt. After reaching the ground, it turned to the hare and said, "Don't be so proud. I challenge you to a race. A race from one end of the forest to the other." "You think you will win? No way," the hare snapped. "Let us see," the tortoise replied. The two decided to hold the race next day, an hour after dawn. The news of the proposed race spread by word of mouth. Many animals and birds came to witness the race. They told each other, "Poor tortoise. It will lose, for sure." The race began. The hare took off at top speed. The tortoise managed a fast crawl. The hare came close to the winning post. The post was hardly 100 metres away. The hare looked back. The tortoise was nowhere in sight. Then the hare noticed a Peepul tree. Its shade was cool. "Let me rest for some time. I know the tortoise will never make it," the hare rolled up into a fluffy ball, closed its eyes and slept off.
It woke up on hearing thunderous cheers. Sleepily, it looked all around. Then it noticed the tortoise, holding its neck out and accepting the cheers of the spectators. The tortoise had moved slowly but steadily, and reached the goal first. It had won the race.


Meaning: No body should take success for granted.

Alternatives: One should not rest until one has reached one's goal. Ambition knows no rest, success demands per- severance.

Self help is the best help

In a nest, set in a rice field, lived a mother bird and her two little chicks. Every morning, the mother bird flew away to forage for food. Before going, she always told the chicks, "Don't go out. Danger stalks everywhere. Stay inside. Then no harm will come to you. Listen to every little sound, including any conversation you overhear. For it is time for harvest. We must leave this place before the men come to harvest the crop." That day, a little after the bird had flown off came the farmer and his son. They walked close to where the nest lay. The farmer looked at the crop. Then he told his son, "It is time for harvest. We must get help from the village. We will request our neighbours to help us." The son nodded his head. The two walked away. The chicks reported the conversation to their mother. She replied coolly, "No need to worry. Not as yet." The chicks left it at that. They were hungry. They opened their beaks. Mother bird started feeding them.Next day, as usual, she warned the chicks and left. The farmer and the son turned up a little later. The chicks peeped out of the nest. They heard the farmer say, "The villagers are busy. They have no time to help us. We must get outside help."
When the mother bird returned, the chicks told her, what they had heard. But she said, "Don't worry. We still have time to shift." A few days later, the farmer and the son visited the field again. The farmer looked worried and said to his son, "If we don't harvest the crop quickly, we will suffer losses. Since we can't get help, tomorrow we must harvest the crop ourselves." "Okay," said the boy. That evening, when the bird returned, the chicks told her what they had heard. Mother bird fed the chicks, and said, "This time the farmer is serious. He will cut the crops tomorrow. I think you are strong enough to fly. Follow me. We will go to our new home on the fork of the gulmohar tree over there." "How can you be so certain?" The chicks asked. "Because this time, the farmer and his son have decided to cut the crop themselves. They have realised that self help is the best help," said the mother bird, leading the chicks to their new home.


Meaning: Do yourself what you can. Don't depend on others for everything.

Alternatives: God helps those who help themselves. Stand on your own feet.

Practice makes one perfect

Ekalavya was born in a low caste family. He lived in the forest, with his parents. Often he accompanied his father to forage for food. His father hunted with the help of a knife. Ekalavya too learned to use the knife. But for using the knife, he had to get close to the quarry .That was not always easy. He searched for alternatives. He found it easy to hit small animals with stones. He used the sling and sent the stones flying into space, to bring down birds. One day, while moving through Hastinapur, he saw a group of young boys practising archery. He stood rooted to the spot. Could he also master archery and hunt animals easily? But who would teach him archery? He was not a Kshatriya (Member of the warrior class). Martial art remained the exclusive right of the upper castes. Ekalavya returned home, cursing his fate. "I know I can master archery. My marksmanship is very good. The other day, I aimed a stone at a rabbit, which was running for cover. I killed the rabbit in one shot. On another occasion, I managed to bring down a couple of pigeons with the help of my sling. If I master archery, I can stalk deer and wild boars too. But I will never learn the art. My caste stands in my way," he rued. On several visits to Hastinapur, Ekalavya watched the young boys practise archery. He observed them keenly. Soon he knew how to make a bow. He collected a few arrows. He had heard that Dronacharya was the best teacher of archery. "I am his disciple," Ekalavya told himself. He put a stone image of Dronacharya on a mount at the foot of a tree. He bowed to the idol. Then began the lessons. All day long, he practised shooting arrows. It was hard work. But he did not give up. Slowly but steadily his marksmanship improved. Soon he gained further mastery. He could strike the target, while watching only at the target's reflection. He could hit the beast, whose bleats or bellows reached him, even though the beast remained invisible. He became a great archer like Veer Arjun. His success tells us, "Practice makes one perfect."

Meaning: To master a lesson or any art there is no short cut. One has to work hard, practise for hours, keep on doing it till one gets it right.

Alternatives: Try, try till you succeed. Perseverance prevails.

The poor are truly free when their needs are a few

Diogenes was a leading Greek philosopher. He was a man of few needs. Power, status and riches did not appeal to him. He spent most of his time in acquiring knowledge or seeking the meaning of life. His life style was akin to that of the poor. He cooked his own food, kept his home set in the midst of trees and flowering shrubs, neat and clean. One day, he walked to the kitchen to cook dinner. He opened the pots and checked. There was nothing in all but one pot. He peered into the pot and found some lentils. "Ah!" his face brightened. "I will make lentil soup and dine in style," he told himself. He emptied the lentils on to a plate and moved to the backyard. The setting sun formed patterns of light and shade on the ground. Diogenes drew water from a well and started washing the lentils. "Where are you, my friend?" came a call. Diogenes looked up and saw his friend, Aristippus, a scholar who served at the court and lived in luxuries, walking in. "Welcome, my friend. How are you? Have not seen you for long. Why don't you join me for dinner? Then we will have time to discuss philosophy," Diogenes said, while rinsing the lentils in the water.
"What will you serve me?" The guest enquired. "Delicious lentil soup," Diogenes picked up a stone and threw it away. "Oh, no, thank you. I can't enjoy such a measly fare," Aristippus replied. Then he asked, "Tell me, why do you live in poverty? You are more intelligent, more well-informed and more scholarly than me. If you would only learn to flatter the king, you would not have to live on such poor food as lentils." Diogenes straightened himself up, gave the guest a look of contempt and commented, "If only you had learned to live on such food as lentils, you would not have to flatter the king." Aristippus had no reply to that.


Meaning: Money doesn't come for the asking. Often one has to adjust to the whims of one's superiors, to flatter them and to please them. In the process one ceases to be free.

Alternatives: No man is free unless he limits his wants. Freedom does not co-exist with material pursuits. Happy is he who is content.

The grass looks greener on the other side

Ranjan and Sumer were friends. They went to the same school and were in the same class. Ranjan was not robust. He was frail and weak. Not for him the rumble and tumble of street brawls, the fun of running wild, playing football or hockey or other strenuous games with boys of his age. All that he did was watch Sumer and other boys play. Often he would go with them to the wide open grounds. They would run off to play. He would sit in the shade of a tree, lean back on a bole and read a story book or enjoy a magazine for children. Books became his best friends. He acquired knowledge. That stood him in good stead. He always stood first in the class. Sumer was tall and athletic. He spent most of his time running or swimming or riding bicycles or playing. He excelled in every game. The headmaster selected him as a member of the school's football team and cricket team. He served his school with distinction. Later he became the captain of the cricket team. The State selectors watched his performance. They felt he would one day make it big in the game. One day, the two friends went for a walk. Rajan got tired soon. He said', "I have no strength. What is the use of all this knowledge, if I am not healthy. I would give away all my knowledge if only I could be half as healthy and strong as you." Sumer was taken aback. He replied, "So you are not happy with your lot. Here I am, wishing I could do as well as you in studies. I too had often thought I could forgo my sporting skill if only I could get a first division, in the board examination." The friends peered at each other. Then they fell into each other's arms, while Ranjan said, "the grass looks greener on the other side." Sumer enquired, "What does that mean?" Ranjan explained, "Nobody is happy with his skills and talents. Each one finds his betters in others and feels unhappy. Look at yonder lawn. Does it not look greener than the one right under our feet?" Ranjan agreed.

Meaning: Almost everyone thinks others are better off than them. Rarely does one find a truly con- tented man.

Alternative: Object of envy: the Jones next door.

The future is not ours to see

The people of United States were heady with excitement on Nov. 2, 1948. The Presidential elections were going to be held that day. Who would win? Harry Truman or Thomas Dewey? The odds were clearly in favour of Dewey and the Republican Party. "Truman can count himself out. The Democrats have had a long innings. Now it is the turn of the Republicans," said many people. The leading members of the Press analysed the situation. Most journalists felt that Dewey would win. But they did not make any firm prediction. They shied away, saying, "Public opinion can swing suddenly. Who can say, for sure, about election results?" But one man was absolutely certain of Dewey's victory. He was the editor of The Chicago Times. So he wrote, in advance, an editorial hailing the victory of Dewey. He prepared the headline for the front page: Dewey Defeats Truman. "Should we not wait till the results are out? Should we not have an alternate editorial and head line? Truman may well spring a surprise," said one of the editorial assistants. The editor pinned him down with a stern stare. Then he said, rather loudly, "I know man, Dewey will win and win by a huge margin. Have no doubts on that. I can read the future, at least as far as the end result of this election is concerned." The proofs were read and the first editions were printed with the headline and the editorial. The results of the elections began to trickle in. The people had voted massively in favour of Truman. Dewey was left far behind. The editor of The Chicago Times had egg all over his face. He had tried to gauge the future. The future, in turn, had pulled a fast one on him. The future was not his to see.


Meaning: None knows what is in store for him in the days to come.

Alternatives: The future is unknown. The future lies in the womb of time.

Silence is golden

Satyamurti was a leading nationalist. He was known for his oratory. His words carried logic and reason, wit and wisdom. So he usually got the better of others in arguments. Once he went to England to present India's case for freedom. He met leading politicians in Britain. He pleaded with them to restore self-government to India. He addressed several public meetings. They were well attended. At one meeting, while he was presenting India's case for freedom, a heckler asked, "Do you know that the sun never sets on the British Empire?" That was true. For Britain had colonies all around the globe. And always it was day in some or the other part of the Empire.
Satyamurti looked in the general direction of the crowd from where the question had come and smiled. The heckler felt he had nettled Satyamurti. He thought Satyamurti would not have a convincing reply. Here he went wrong. For Satyamurti replied, "Do you know why? Even the sun doesn't trust the British in the dark." The laughter of the crowd pitched high. The heckler quickly ran out. He had learnt one lesson. He had met more than his match. He should have remained silent. He should not have heckled Satyamurti.


Meaning: Be a man of few words. Speak only if you must. Think before you speak. For a word and a stone, once launched, cannot be called back.

Alternatives: Nothing is opened more by mistake than the mouth. Let not your tongue cut your throat. Much wisdom often goes with fewest words.

Pride hath its fall

There stood, close to an oak tree, a bamboo reed. The oak tree was stout and strong. Its branches spread out in all directions. The reed was thin and supple. It swayed in whatever direction the wind blew. The oak tree said, in a gruff voice, "You are very docile. Why do you dance to the tune of the wind? Stand up, reed, hold your self erect, as I do. Tell the wind that you are not at its command. Show some guts. This world is for the strong." The bamboo reed did not say a word. Silence, it thought, was golden. ^ "Did you not hear me? Why don't you reply?" the oak tree growled. "What can I say? You are strong and sturdy. I am weak. But listen to me. The wind, if it gets really violent, can be very dangerous. When the wind blows with fury, show it respect. Otherwise..." the reed did not complete the sentence. The oak tree thundered, "No wind can do anything to me." The gentle breeze which made the reed swing, overheard the tree's comment. It brushed over the bark of the tree and wafted away.
A little later, after gathering strength, the breeze turned itself into a wild wind. It came back at a terrific speed turning into a storm. The bamboo reed bent almost double. The wind rushed over it. Then it bumped into the oak tree. The tree won't budge. The wind hit it again. This time the shock ran down and weakened its roots. The branches tried to reduce the speed of the wind. The wind pushed them aside with vicious force. In the process, the tree lost its hold. It got uprooted and crashed to the ground. "There goes the strong oak tree. Wish it had listened to me and showed some respect to the wind. But the oak tree was proud. It hadn't learnt one lesson: Pride hath its fall," the reed murmured to itself sadly.

Meaning: Pride makes one think too high of himself, blinds one to the dangers.

Alternatives: Ego is a man's worst enemy. The weak shall inherit the earth.

He who has an art has everywhere a part

Nekchand is one of India's modern garden designers. He was not born great. He achieved greatness. How did he find fame? By turning junks into works of art. Years ago, in the sixties he was working in the horticulture department at Chandigarh. His pay was low. He just managed to make both ends meet. Yet he never grumbled about his lot. Work, for him, was worship. Luckily the work he did was much after his heart. For he was a lover of nature and art. He found delight in planting saplings and helping them grow. It was fun laying seeds and waiting for them to grow, dress themselves up in lovely colourful flowers and dance with the wind. One morning, in spring, he came out of his house. He had a bag in his hard. He walked, slowly along the footpath. He often stopped on sighting a bed of roses or large dahlia's or Chrysanthe- mums. He walked slowly, taking in the feast of colours. Hardly had he covered a hundred yards when his eyes fell on a pile of broken chinaware. It was lying on one side. The rays of the sun fell upon the pile and lighted up the junk. Nekchand was captivated by the beauty of the broken bits. He could nottakehis eyes away. The bits and pieces took in the sun and gained myriad shades. Before his very eyes, Nekchand saw the broken bits recreating a rainbow of colours. Could he find the pieces a place where their power to refract sunlight could be increased? Would the pieces then become truly great work of art? Nekchand stood and watched for quite some time. A smile lit up his face. "This is it," he said and started gathering the pieces in his bag.
The broken bits jingled and jangled as Nekchand moved to a deserted location. He fixed the broken bits on the slopes of the mount which stood in bold relief against the rays of the sun. It was hard work. Nekchand shifted a few pieces. He rearranged them, shuffled them around. This went on for quite some time. Finally he felt pleased with the effect. He grinned happily and turned homewards, with light steps. From then on, discards became a passion with him. He saw art in every junk—rusted steel plates; twisted barbed wires; bits and pieces of glassware. He visited every junkyard in the town and had his pick. To kabadiwallahs he turned for further junk. He blended the discards. Gradually a garden emerged where there once was barren rocky land. Soon, people came to know about Nekchand's efforts. They came, went round the garden and hailed Nekchand for his work. Government too recognised his merit. Today, Nekchand's Gar- den at Chandigarh is a unique site. It is art created out of junk. One fan, after going round the garden, said, "He who has an art has everywhere a part."


Meaning: A true artist has the ability to create something beautiful out of ordinary things.

Alternatives: A thinking man is always striking out something new. A truly great man has the courage to be different.

It is never too late to learn

Socrates was one of the wisest men of the City State of Athens. Often he stood at the street corners, gathered young men around him, asked them questions and helped them find answers on their own. The members of the City Council felt that Socrates was turning the young against them. They ordered his arrest on charges of sedition. He was tried and sentenced to death. The date for his execution was fixed and Socrates was detained in prison. It was decided that on the appointed day, he would be, made to drink a glass of Hemlock, a deadly poison. Socrates had a large circle of friends and followers. They came every day to the prison and spent hours talking to him. They found him calm and composed. He did not show the slightest sign of fear. His attitude seemed to say, "Death! Do thy worst. I, for one, am not scared." A few days before his execution, a musical tune wafted into the cell through the window which opened out to the road beyond the prison wall. Socrates walked to the window and looked out. He saw an old man sitting with his back to the trunk of a tree, strumming on his harp. Socrates turned to his friends and said, "That music is truly divine. I wish I could learn to sing that song. Can you get hold of the singer and bring him to me?" His friends were taken aback. They asked, "Why do you want to meet him?" "I want to learn that tune. It is truly divine," Socrates replied. "Why waste effort? You know you are going to die in less than a week," a friend pointed out. "That is all the more the reason why I must learn that tune. I won't get a chance, again. Please hurry up. Get hold of the singer. Otherwise, we may not be able to trace him. And I will never learn that tune," Socrates appealed to his friends.
One of them wen to the prison official and presented the request of Socrates. The official, who held Socrates in great esteem, sent a guard to fetch the singer. A little later, the guard returned, leading the singer to Socrates. After polite exchanges, Socrates requested the singer, "Will you please teach me that tune. It is truly soulful music." The singer sat down and went over and over the musical notes. Socrates repeated them. For nearly two hours, he practised. Then the singer said, "You know it well, Oh Revered Sire. You can sing it as well as me." "Thank you. Today I am better informed than I was yesterday. Everyday, till death, I want to learn something new. It is never too late to learn. Thank you for teaching me the tune," Socrates sent the man away, respectfully.

Meaning: Knowledge is vast. Nobody, however studious he be, ever learns everything. The wise man knows more today than yesterday. Every day he increases his knowledge.

Alternative: One is never too old to learn

No army can fight on an empty stomach

Field Marshal Bernard Law Montgomery was one of the heroes of World War II. He led the British Army with skill and confidence. He got the men good wages and facilities and rewards. Thus he earned their personal loyalty. The landing of the Allies at Normandy was his finest hour. His men fought boldly, dared all odds because they had trust in his leadership. For them he was a hero who could do no wrong. His hero, in turn, was the Prime Minister, Sir Winston Churchill. The two had very cordial relations. Yet they had their differences too. Some times they had heated arguments. But this did not diminish the love between the two. On one occasion the Prime Minister noticed a reference to two dentist's chairs, among the many items which had been trans- ported to Normandy. "Why were they sent? They are not weapons," Churchill wondered. He turned to his secretary, "remind me. I must point this out to the Field Marshal when he calls on us next." The Secretary made a note. Montgomery called on the Prime Minister early one morning. In his hand was a fat file relating to an important strategic plan. He was received by the secretary and led to the Prime Minister. Churchill welcomed the Field Marshal with a warm handshake. Then he picked up the cheroot and started puffing at it. Mont- gomery pushed the file across the table to Churchill. The Prime Minister studied it. he asked questions, sought clarifications, suggested changes. Finally the issue was settled.
The secretary walked in and reminded Churchill, "Sir. you wanted to discuss the issue of the dentist's chairs." "Thank you," he replied. The secretary moved out. The Prime Minister raised his voice slightly, I was going through the list of items sent to Normandy after the landing. Among the items transported were two dentist's chairs. Where was the need? We don't have money to burn. We are waging a war. We have to account for every penny." "You think we have wasted funds on dentist's chairs? There you go wrong," Montgomery glared at Churchill. Churchill did not say a word. But his chin was firm and set. Montgomery continued, "Mr Prime Minister, a soldier with a toothache is of no use to me. He can't fight." He saw the smile on Churchill's face and felt happy. "I should have known. No army can fight on an empty stomach. And no soldier can fight unless he is fit," Churchill agreed.

Meaning: No job can be done well unless the worker is well looked after. An army marches on its stomach.

Alternatives: A happy worker is an efficient worker. Men do their best in congenial settings.