The Broken Pot

Once upon a time in distant India there lived a Brahman, whose name was Svabhavakripana, which means “a born miser.” This man was truly stingy and miserly. He was unwilling to spend even a single rupee. When forced to spend money on food, drink, or shelter, he became very cross indeed and would yell at anyone who was near.

In fact, he was rather famous — or infamous — throughout the land for some of his most monstrously miserly misdeeds. Indeed, he was unwilling to part with even a single crumb or grain of rice from his bare and miserly pantry.

Consider this: One day, a hungry ant approached the miser as he sat in his home. It had been a particularly dry year, and there was very little for the members of the insect world to eat. This particular ant had a rather large family to feed and had been searching anxiously for a stray seed or bit of grass to carry on his back and take to his hungry family in their anthill. Try as he might — and he tried mightily — he was unable to find anything.

So, in desperation, he approached the miser. Even the lowly ant had heard tales of this stingy fellow, but he was exhausted and near the miser's home. So he went to the man and said, “Please, kind sir. Could you find it in your heart to spare a single grain of rice to share with my ant family?”

At this, the miser guffawed and continued laughing until the ant thought the man would split in half.

“Do you know nothing, lowly, common Ant?” roared the miser. “I have nothing to spare. Not a single grain of rice or a crumb of noodle. No, you must find food elsewhere. Do not come here ever again!”

At this the ant crept off, crying softly. As luck or good fortune would have it, though, the miser had accidentally dropped a grain of rice earlier in the day. He'd dropped it by his front door when he'd rinsed the evening's rice before cooking it. As the ant walked through the miser's door, he saw the grain, plucked it up (all the while looking over his tiny ant shoulder to make sure the miser was not taking note), placed it on top of his back, and marched off happily to present it to his family.

So, as you can see, this was indeed a very selfish, miserly, thoughtless fellow.

Along with being a miser, this Brahman was a rather lazy fellow. He'd do anything to avoid working. His preferred method of providing for his needs was to beg for money and sustenance. He was well known in his village for begging. To keep him from becoming an even angrier nuisance, local folks would occasionally indulge him and give him a rupee or two, or a bit of food. This usually succeeded in calming his temper, at least temporarily.

Recently, he had collected a very large quantity of rice by begging. One of the villagers gave it to him in hopes that it would keep the miser off the streets and away from the town's children for some time. He was especially fierce to the young ones, who dreaded his presence. The miser would yell at the children for cheering while playing ball or for making noise while playing tag. This miser really was an insufferable fellow!

So, the miser took the rice home and made a very nice meal with it. He ate and ate and ate, gloating at the day's bounty. Then when his stomach was quite round and full and he felt completely satisfied, he took the rice and filled a pot with what was left over.

He hung the heavy pot rather precariously on a peg on the wall. Although he was a bit worried that the peg might pull out of the wall with the weight of the pot, he decided, after some examination, that all was well and he would not move the pot. Remember, this miser was a lazy man, and he was worn out from his day of begging. So, he placed his sleeping mat underneath the pot and tucked himself in. From this position, the miser thought, he could keep an eye on his prized rice throughout the night.

And so he did, looking intently at it all through the night. As he stared at the heavy pot, he started to think, “Oh my, that pot is indeed filled to the very top with rice. Lucky me, lucky me! Now, if there is a famine and there is not enough food in the land, I will certainly make at least a hundred rupees by selling it. Probably more! With such a windfall, I will buy two or three goats. Then, they will have young ones every six months or so. And, at that rate, before I know it, I will have a whole large herd of goats. Then, I'll sell the herd of goats for lots and lots of rupees! And then, I will buy cows, lots of cows! As soon as they have calves, I will sell the calves. Then, with the money I make from selling the calves, I will buy some buffaloes. Then, when the buffaloes have babies, I will sell them to buy mares. Yes, horses, that would be good. When the mares have foaled, I will have plenty of horses. Then, when I sell the foals I will have gold, lots of gold. More than I could have ever imagined! With that gold I will get a grand house with four stories, maybe more. It will be built of the best materials and furnished with wonderful furniture and fabrics.

“And then a Brahman will come to my house and will give me his beautiful daughter. She will be the most beautiful woman anyone has ever beheld. And she will be given to me with a large dowry. We will live together happily and then we will have a son. What will I call him? I think I will call him Somasarman. And when he is old enough, I will sit with an interesting book at the back of the stable, and while I am reading, the happy boy will see me, jump eagerly from his mother's lap, and run toward me to be danced and bounced on my knee. But then, he will come too near the horse's hoof. Full of anger, I will call to my wife, ‘Take the baby; take him! Hurry!’ But distracted by her housework, she will not hear me. Then I will get up and give the wall a kick because of my frustration that my wife is not listening to me.”

As he was thinking about this, he gave the wall by his sleeping mat a hard, sudden kick. The kick dislodged the heavy pot from its precarious position on the peg; it tumbled to the floor, shattering into many pieces. The rice fell everywhere, including on the miser, making him look as if he'd been caught in a snowstorm, covered with white rice from head to toe.

Under the layer of white, though, the miser was quite red with anger. But, after all, it was his fault that he had foolishly planned a future based on a pot of rice obtained by begging.