Restless Monkey

Nathan had seen monkeys before. They jumped from tree to tree, stole fruit, and disappeared before anyone could scold them. But this monkey was different. It refused to sit.

Nathan stood on a narrow forest path, holding a rope tied loosely around the monkey’s waist. The monkey pulled, jumped, screeched, and flailed its arms as if sitting down would be the worst thing that could happen to it. Nathan pulled back. The monkey pulled harder.

Behind Nathan stood Maniyettan, watching quietly. He did not shout instructions. He did not tell Nathan what to do. He simply stood there, calm, patient, as if he had all the time in the world. Nathan tightened his grip and leaned back. The monkey leapt forward. Dust rose. Neither of them moved very far. 

Nathan paused for a moment. The monkey paused too—only because it was surprised. Nathan loosened the rope slightly. The monkey jumped again, but this time without much strength. It looked around, confused.

Nothing interesting seemed to be happening. After a while, the monkey sat down—not because it was forced to, but because it was tired of pulling. Nathan looked back at Maniyettan. Maniyettan smiled faintly.

The monkey scratched its head. Nathan loosened the rope a little more. This time, the monkey did not stand up again.

Moral

The mind does not become quiet by force.  It settles when it is no longer chased.