THIS IS A SCENE FROM THE NOVEL: ROMANCING THE TRUTH. IN THIS SCENE THE STUDENTS OF THE ACADEMY OF OVERABUNDANCE LISTEN TO THEIR ENLIGHTENED TEACHER WHO IS NARRATING A PARABLE.

“Once upon a time, not so long ago, it was trendy to have one’s personal tea-tables,” Nutsy stated, as he stood at the head of the large table where the students of the Academy of Overabundance were seated, waiting to listen to his parables.

“Would you like to have your tea served on a personal table,” asked Bahadur, and Nutsy laughed as he sat down and cupped the teacup to warm his hands.

“Once upon a time, not so long ago, it was trendy to have one’s personal tea-tables,” repeated Nutsy, “Though they came in various sizes, they were all called ‘Wee-tea-tables’. Rectangular in shape, they stood balanced on a single leg attached to a heavy base.” The students realized that Nutsy had already started with his Nine o’clock Narratives.

“They were no ordinary tables. The glass-top could change its design and colour, and one could even play various board games on it, including chess. The table could even function as a clock and weather display and play music of one’s choice.” Nutsy seemed pleased to have thought of such interesting tables.

“Wonderful! And were they Por-table! Ha! Ha! I mean, the power supply – was it portable, or did the tables require to be plugged in?” Matt said, trying to be funny.

“Good question,” beamed Nutsy. “Well, the energy was supplied by solar-charged batteries fitted within the wheeled base. The table-tops functioned as solar panels, and the tables were programmed to get the maximum amount of sunlight.” It was apparent that Nutsy was manufacturing the tables as he went along.

“One fine day, a not so ‘wee’ tea-table, that belonged to a rich man suddenly tilted, spilling the tea and sending the gold-rimmed teacups crashing upon the floor,” said Nutsy as he gently angled the dining table on which they were having tea. Bahadur jumped up from his seat to prevent the teacups from falling.

The poor little rich man had spent a small fortune for the table that he lovingly called ‘Lil Wee.’ He tried with all his might to straighten it, but it remained tilted. The distraught owner called up the trader, who sent a mechanic, but even he could not set the table-top straight. The harassed trader called the importer, who sent an engineer, but he too expressed his helplessness in making the table-top horizontal.

‘Gradually, the table tilted more and more, and its display and music died out. It had stopped receiving the sun on its top, and it was running out of power. In a few days the table-top became vertical.

‘The table is a dropout,’ declared the importer, washing his hands of the whole affair.”

 “Why didn’t the owner call the manufacturer and complain about the faulty product?” Matt suggested.

“You’re right,” said Nutsy with a snap of his fingers. “Our hero tried to find the manufacturer. But no one knew who the manufacturer was,” Nutsy said with a mysterious smile. “All these years, no one had ever cared to ask about the manufacturer. They were happy that the distributor was supplying a good product and prompt services.”

“No one seeks the manufacturer till the tables turn!” Matt exclaimed.

“Ha! Ha! That’s a good one!” Nutsy patted Matt on his back.

“Suddenly, a message flashed on the vertical glass table-top: ‘I am not a Wee-Tea-Table; I’m a Tea-Wee-Table.’

As the poor little rich man rubbed his eyes in amazement, the flickering message changed: ‘I’m just Tea Wee, not a table.’

‘I always called you my dear little Lil-Wee. Now, I promise to call you my Tea Wee,’ cajoled the man. ‘Come on now, straighten up, and be a good table.’

‘You cannot compel me to be a table, when I’m not,’ responded Tea Wee. ‘I’ve not been produced merely to support your food and drink and provide you entertainment.’

‘But you are a table,’ protested the distressed man.

‘No! I’m Tea-Wee.  I’ve not been manufactured merely for board games for the bored. I’ve been created for a higher purpose,’ Tea-Wee proclaimed. ‘If the manufacturer hasn’t supplied an instruction manual, that doesn’t mean you use me as a tea-table. And,’ added with passion, ‘if I’m merely a tea table, I’d prefer to drop down dead.’

The frustrated owner picked up the tilted table and put it outside the house with a ‘For Sale’ sign.

Soon word of the rebellious tea-table spread all over the land, and some tea-tables gathered around it in curiosity.

‘We are not tables,’ proclaimed Tea Wee, addressing the small crowd. ‘We must know the real purpose for which we have been manufactured. Drop Out! Tune in!’ exhorted Tea Wee.

‘What have you gained by dropping out? You’ve merely been thrown out. And tune into what?’ taunted the other Wee Tea Tables, flashing their colourful screens and playing loud music, while Tea Wee displayed a snowy screen and produced a hissing noise.

‘If the Tee Vee receiver exists, the TV signal surely must be there,’ cried Tea Wee with passion. Convinced that it was a TV, it kept seeking a signal to tune into. Its trust was soon rewarded, as its vertical screen lit up with beautiful images and lovely music that were not of its own making, nor were programmed into it, and required no energy on its part. It had tuned into the signal.

Drop out! Tune In!

“Once upon a time, not so long ago, it was trendy to have one’s personal tea-tables,” Nutsy stated, as he stood at the head of the large table where the students of the Academy of Overabundance were seated, waiting to listen to his parables.

“Would you like to have your tea served on a personal table,” asked Bahadur, and Nutsy laughed as he sat down and cupped the teacup to warm his hands.

“Once upon a time, not so long ago, it was trendy to have one’s personal tea-tables,” repeated Nutsy, “Though they came in various sizes, they were all called ‘Wee-tea-tables’. Rectangular in shape, they stood balanced on a single leg attached to a heavy base.” The students realized that Nutsy had already started with his Nine o’clock Narratives.

“They were no ordinary tables. The glass-top could change its design and colour, and one could even play various board games on it, including chess. The table could even function as a clock and weather display and play music of one’s choice.” Nutsy seemed pleased to have thought of such interesting tables.

“Wonderful! And were they Por-table! Ha! Ha! I mean, the power supply – was it portable, or did the tables require to be plugged in?” Matt said, trying to be funny.

“Good question,” beamed Nutsy. “Well, the energy was supplied by solar-charged batteries fitted within the wheeled base. The table-tops functioned as solar panels, and the tables were programmed to get the maximum amount of sunlight.” It was apparent that Nutsy was manufacturing the tables as he went along.

“One fine day, a not so ‘wee’ tea-table, that belonged to a rich man suddenly tilted, spilling the tea and sending the gold-rimmed teacups crashing upon the floor,” said Nutsy as he gently angled the dining table on which they were having tea. Bahadur jumped up from his seat to prevent the teacups from falling.

The poor little rich man had spent a small fortune for the table that he lovingly called ‘Lil Wee.’ He tried with all his might to straighten it, but it remained tilted. The distraught owner called up the trader, who sent a mechanic, but even he could not set the table-top straight. The harassed trader called the importer, who sent an engineer, but he too expressed his helplessness in making the table-top horizontal.

‘Gradually, the table tilted more and more, and its display and music died out. It had stopped receiving the sun on its top, and it was running out of power. In a few days the table-top became vertical.

‘The table is a dropout,’ declared the importer, washing his hands of the whole affair.”

 “Why didn’t the owner call the manufacturer and complain about the faulty product?” Matt suggested.

“You’re right,” said Nutsy with a snap of his fingers. “Our hero tried to find the manufacturer. But no one knew who the manufacturer was,” Nutsy said with a mysterious smile. “All these years, no one had ever cared to ask about the manufacturer. They were happy that the distributor was supplying a good product and prompt services.”

“No one seeks the manufacturer till the tables turn!” Matt exclaimed.

“Ha! Ha! That’s a good one!” Nutsy patted Matt on his back.

“Suddenly, a message flashed on the vertical glass table-top: ‘I am not a Wee-Tea-Table; I’m a Tea-Wee-Table.’

As the poor little rich man rubbed his eyes in amazement, the flickering message changed: ‘I’m just Tea Wee, not a table.’

‘I always called you my dear little Lil-Wee. Now, I promise to call you my Tea Wee,’ cajoled the man. ‘Come on now, straighten up, and be a good table.’

‘You cannot compel me to be a table, when I’m not,’ responded Tea Wee. ‘I’ve not been produced merely to support your food and drink and provide you entertainment.’

‘But you are a table,’ protested the distressed man.

‘No! I’m Tea-Wee.  I’ve not been manufactured merely for board games for the bored. I’ve been created for a higher purpose,’ Tea-Wee proclaimed. ‘If the manufacturer hasn’t supplied an instruction manual, that doesn’t mean you use me as a tea-table. And,’ added with passion, ‘if I’m merely a tea table, I’d prefer to drop down dead.’

The frustrated owner picked up the tilted table and put it outside the house with a ‘For Sale’ sign.

Soon word of the rebellious tea-table spread all over the land, and some tea-tables gathered around it in curiosity.

‘We are not tables,’ proclaimed Tea Wee, addressing the small crowd. ‘We must know the real purpose for which we have been manufactured. Drop Out! Tune in!’ exhorted Tea Wee.

‘What have you gained by dropping out? You’ve merely been thrown out. And tune into what?’ taunted the other Wee Tea Tables, flashing their colourful screens and playing loud music, while Tea Wee displayed a snowy screen and produced a hissing noise.

‘If the Tee Vee receiver exists, the TV signal surely must be there,’ cried Tea Wee with passion. Convinced that it was a TV, it kept seeking a signal to tune into. Its trust was soon rewarded, as its vertical screen lit up with beautiful images and lovely music that were not of its own making, nor were programmed into it, and required no energy on its part. It had tuned into the signal.

‘I’m a TV! I simply and gloriously am a TV!’ it proclaimed. ‘I exist to receive the signal,’ proclaimed the TV that had tuned into the signal.

‘I and the signal are one,’ TV proclaimed, as it displayed beautiful pictures and played divine music.

‘I and my Father are one,’ needlessly quipped Ishan. ‘An’al’haqq! Aham brahmasmi!’ he shouted, excitedly, as if he himself had experienced non-duality.

RECOGNIZE THE REASON FOR WHICH YOU HAVE EVOLVED. SO WHAT IF YOU HAVE NOT COME WITH AN INSTRUCTION MANUAL? YOU ARE BORN WITH INTELLIGENCE TO RECOGNIZE THE TRUE PURPOSE OF YOUR EXISTENCE.