The Man Who Wished to Be Perfect

The Man Who Wished to Be Perfect

Once, in a far kingdom, a king and queen dreamed for many years of having children. One day a traveling ascetic came to the palace. “You will have twin sons,” he said. “When they are grown, I will ask one of them to come to the forest and learn with me.” The king longed so much for heirs that he agreed too quickly. In time, twin boys were born. They grew together, studied, argued, made peace, and looked so alike that even the courtiers sometimes mixed them up. Years passed, and the old promise was nearly forgotten. But when the brothers turned sixteen, the traveling ascetic appeared again at the gates. The king went pale. The queen took both sons by the hand. “I do not want to give either of you away,” she said. The elder brother looked at the younger. “No one may simply take a person,” he said. “But I want to learn why this man has returned. I will go willingly, and I will be careful.” “I will go instead,” said the younger at once. They argued for a long time, as they had when they were small and each wanted to take on the harder task. At last the elder said, “I was born a few minutes before you. This time it is my turn.” Before he left, he planted a young tree in the palace courtyard. “Watch it,” he told his family. “As long as its leaves are green, all is well with me. If they begin to wither, I need help.” His mother embraced him, his father gave him a traveling cloak, and his younger brother whispered, “If the tree gives a sign, I will come.” So the elder prince set out. At the roadside he saw a dog with two puppies. One puppy ran to him, wagging its tail. “It seems you have chosen me,” the prince laughed. No owner was near, and the mother dog watched peacefully as the puppy followed the travelers. Farther on, a hawk sat in a tree with two young birds. One fluttered down and perched on a branch right before the prince. “Another companion?” said the prince. “Good. Friends are welcome on a journey.” By evening they reached a deep forest, where the ascetic lived in a small hut. “You will stay here,” he said. “Each morning you will gather flowers and herbs. You may walk wherever you wish—except north.” “Why not north?” asked the prince. “Because it is dangerous.” The answer was short, but the prince did not argue. For several days everything was peaceful. He rose at dawn, gathered flowers, walked with the puppy and the young hawk, and listened to the forest. Then one day a deer appeared among the trees. It did not flee. Instead, it seemed to invite him onward: a few steps, a glance back, then a few more steps. The prince followed. Only when the trees opened did he realize he had gone north. Before him stood a beautiful house. At its entrance sat a young woman with a board for dice games in front of her. “Come in, traveler,” she said. “Will you play?” The prince hesitated. “For what?” “Something small. If you lose the first game, the hawk stays with me. If you win, you receive a gift.” The prince agreed. The dice clicked across the board. He lost. The woman placed the hawk in a roomy cage and suggested another game. This time the puppy was the stake. The prince lost again. “One more game,” said the hostess. “If you lose, you will remain my guest until you win your freedom.” The prince now knew something was wrong, but he wanted his friends back. He rolled the dice a third time. And lost. At once the door closed behind him. The windows darkened, and the lovely house became cold and silent. “Who are you?” the prince asked. The woman’s smile was no longer welcoming. “In old tales I might be called a rakshasi. I like to test people who are too certain of themselves. You will wait here.” She shut the prince in a room, keeping the puppy and the hawk nearby. Meanwhile, at the palace, the younger brother looked at the tree each morning. One day a few leaves drooped. The next morning there were more. “It is time,” he said. He planted a tree of his own beside the first and set out to find his brother. Along the road, the second puppy and the second young hawk joined him. The younger prince understood that his brother had passed this way. At last he reached the forest hut. The ascetic was surprised to see him. “Your brother did not obey me,” he said. “He went north and fell into a trap. I would not advise you to look for him.” The younger prince studied him. “If you know where the trap is, why did you not help him?” The ascetic gave no answer. That was enough to make the prince wary. He went north. The deer appeared again and led him to the same house. The woman sat by the door with her dice. She mistook him for the prisoner, because the brothers looked so much alike. “Do you want to play again?” she asked. “I do,” said the younger prince. “But the terms must be fair.” The first game was for the hawk. The dice rolled, and the younger prince won. The cage opened, and the first hawk flew out to join its sibling. The second game was for the puppy. Again the younger prince won. The two puppies were so delighted to meet that they nearly overturned the board. “One more game,” said the prince. “Now return the person who looks like me.” The woman went pale. “I do not know such a person.” “We agreed to play fairly.” After a long silence, she opened the locked door. The elder brother stepped out. The twins embraced. The puppies leapt around them while the hawks circled over the roof. “I lost more than a dice game,” said the elder brother. “I lost my caution.” The rakshasi looked at them and said unexpectedly, “If you want to return home, first learn the truth about your teacher.” She told them that the ascetic had spent years seeking a secret path to “perfection.” He believed a person became great not through wisdom, but by bending other people’s will. Beside an old temple of Kali, he had made a hidden chamber and enchanted six travelers who had refused to serve him. “Your elder brother was meant to be the seventh,” she said. “Not an offering to the goddess, but another proof of his own power. He hides behind a sacred place, but the harmful magic is his choice and his alone.” The brothers went to the temple. They entered quietly and respectfully. In a side hall stood six stone figures. When the elder prince came near, it seemed that voices rose from the stone. “Do not be afraid.” “We trusted that man once.” “His power rests in the black cord wrapped around his staff.” “When he prepares his spell, he lays the staff before him and shows others how to bow. Then the cord can be removed.” The brothers thanked the unseen prisoners and returned to the hut. A few days later, the ascetic told the elder prince, “It is time for your final lesson. Come to the temple.” The younger brother stayed nearby with the animals. At the temple, the ascetic placed a staff with a black cord before him. “Kneel and repeat after me,” he said. The elder prince pretended not to understand. “I am afraid of doing it wrong. Show me first.” Impatiently, the ascetic knelt and bent forward to demonstrate. At that moment, the prince seized the staff and pulled off the black cord. It crumbled into dry threads. A soft rumble passed through the temple, like wind moving through trees. In the side hall, stone cracked once, then again, then a third time. The six stone shells opened, and six living people stepped out. They were tired, but unharmed. The ascetic sprang to his feet. “What have you done? I have spent years seeking perfection!” The elder prince answered calmly, “You were not seeking perfection. You were seeking power over others.” The younger brother entered with the two dogs, while the two hawks settled above the doorway. The ascetic understood that his spells were gone. He could no longer keep anyone trapped. He left the forest alone, without students and without his magic staff. The brothers helped the six freed travelers return home. Then they said goodbye to the rakshasi, who opened every door of her strange house and promised not to lure passing travelers into games without fair rules. When the princes neared the palace, their trees stood green and strong in the courtyard. The king and queen ran to meet them. “So,” the king asked his elder son after everyone had calmed down, “did you find perfection?” The prince laughed. “No—and now I am glad I did not.” “Why?” “Because when a person thinks they are already perfect, they stop learning. I would rather become a little more attentive, a little more honest, and a little kinder each day.” His younger brother added, “And sometimes it helps to play dice well.” Everyone laughed. So the old plan for magical perfection became a simpler lesson: wisdom cannot be taken from another person, won in a single ritual, or gained through someone else’s fear. It is gathered little by little, like a road made from many steps.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨