The Real and the False

Which is more real? The real or the False?

Ponder your mind a bit, as I have for a long time now…

Once upon a time there lived a King, and as kings go, he had a huge kingdom. But unlike most, he had two heirs. The twins, given equal rights and equal share in the heirloom, were graced by the visit of a renowned monk, renowned for his clairvoyance.

As the monk looked upon the first child, he saw a pure heart that reaches out to all, a heart that felt all the pain it looked upon, and strove to reduce it. The monk blessed the first child and proclaimed him to be known for his kindness, in all of the lands known, for the boy had a pure heart shaped out by the Gods.

The boy, as prophesied, became the epitome of giving virtue, helping people in need far and wide. It mattered not, if the people belonged to his kingdom or not, to the king’s religion or not, or the fact they were people or not… His heart went out to all the living alike and his mind thought of all. Everyone was equal in his mind, and felt for by his heart.

But reality had to set in.

As the boy grew up, he felt a certain sorrow, for nothing was ever his own, as his heart accepted nothing. Everything he owned was willed to give away, all wishes he harboured had to be shunned away. His own heart was in the way of his happiness. The only thing he could gain happiness was the actions of his heart, and little by little he took pleasure in his own kindness. After all he was the only one, selfless for all. His kindness was a gift, which made him look over others, where no one could touch him, where everyone only admired him. A benevolent King, simply is a God.

The clear mind grew fair, and the kind heart more glad, but the soul remained pure, white…

As the boy came to be known for his values, far and wide, was approached by a woman from farther away. She told a sad tale of her son’s failing life, if his heart wasn’t replaced. She knew she was being reckless, selfish for her son’s life, which demanded another life as a price. But life gave her no choice, for her son was her all…

The young king understood what the woman asked was a difficult kindness. He could feel the woman’s pain, but also the pain of all the people he ever helped, and the more who were yet to come. If he gave the dying boy his heart, would only one life be lost? What of the others who depended on him? What of his kind kingdom which was a refuge to most? 

The kind king’s heart gave in and the mind had to prevail. Take pride in your kindness, for it has saved countless lives. For if he gave up his kind heart, how many would suffer the peril? To be kind to most, some had to be ignored…

The king replied, that his kindness was not false, and has to be true for all. “My heart wants to ripped apart, for the sake of helping you as well as not. But for my kindness to be true, it has to be shared by all. I cannot give you your wish.”

The woman realised what the king meant and felt the glaring eyes of all. Realising that her demand was not to be met, she left the God’s silent halls. She pretended to understand, but only understood the shallowness of it all, for the world was cruel, and not beautiful at all.

The monk gazed on the second child, after he gazed at the chosen one. Words failed to leave his mouth, as he found nothing special at all. The second boy wasn’t blessed, he’s no kind after all. He was just a boy, only human after all.

As the boy grew, it wasn’t long before he realized, not being blessed was actually a curse. The kind one was always favoured, respected and cherished by all, but the normal one was born in hell. They always see, always compare, and his actions never enough. For living in real’s shadow, meant only to be false.

He tried his best, even to be kind, but he was no match for a God. He failed it all, all he took up, as the real was just too kind.

What could be more like hell, than to hate your own blood? The acts of kindness, his very nature, his brother’s success and the words of a soothsayer.

But how could hate challenge kindness? The beauty of the world, was cruel after all. And thus the human one gave up his royalty, and his wealth, for what good could a hateful king can do, in a world which is ideal? He wasn’t hailed for his deeds, as he was always seen as a false. The false chase after the real, chase and chase alas, it is all they are good for, but will burn out after all.

One day, upon hearing the woman’s demand and his brother’s rejection that followed, the second son fell in deep thought, as the demand was a heart after all. He had tried to live a normal life, far away for his kind counterpart, but as far as he may go, couldn’t escape his brother’s shadow.

A life lived in despair, may not be much, but is still life and dear to one after all. Something so dear to give up, was the most difficult task of all. For who would want to give owns life, however noble the cause. We live in the real world, all fairy tales are false.

He didn’t want to abandon his life. For that much is true for all. But, doesn’t the heart want what it wants? Even if it is just to prove a point. Even if it was not really to save a child, but to say it out loud. The real may always be unchallenged, but only false can give it their all…

He gave up his heart, as a final act, not to help the woman or the boy. He fell, for his selfish wish, to escape the his curse, in comparison as well as in life. Death was a boon after all…

The boy was saved, the woman in joy, and it seemed like a happy tale.

But all is not well, for now you have to tell, which is more real after all?

The boy who was truly kind, the ‘real’ kind, or the fake brother who chased after the Sun?

That which is fake, can never be the real. But sometimes in its absolute ignorance or in its undying thirst to equal the real, the fake becomes something more than the real.

Humans are kind of like it don’t you think? In our desperate race for existence and identity, always trying to be more than who we are, we kind of surpass ourselves, don’t we?

Are any deeds actually done for its true intentions? And if not, does it really matter?
As the woman later pointed out, the world is not beautiful… and therefore it is.

 

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