The hell and the heaven

The warrior felt proud of himself. Having won the battle, he was pacing in a majestic manner.

“I have conquered the enemies. I have been instrumental in bringing victory to our land,” he though to himself while walking down the road that leads to the abode of a certain master. He taught spiritualism to a group of students.

“Who is he?” the warrior asked a certain man, a traveler pointing at the abode.

“He is a master of meditation,” said the man.

“What is his greatness?”

“He is believed to have conquered the enemies within himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“He says that there is a hell and if the nature of the hell is known, one could go to heaven.”

“I too have heard of a hell and a heaven.”

“But sure,” said the man, “you can never know about it like the master in that abode.”

“Then I must see him,” the warrior said.

“The most difficult thing is to conquer the enemies within oneself.”

The warrior thought for a moment. I have conquered the enemies of the land. But it looks as if there are more enemies to be conquered.

“What does he teach about - the enemies and the war?” The warrior asked.

So thinking of knowing what the hell and the heaven are, the warrior walked forth until he reached the abode. The master was in a meditative mood. There were a few students waiting outside to see him. Having seen the warrior, the students were amazed.

“Look at him,” said a student, whispering into another.

“He is still clad in the warrior uniform.”

“Look, the sword is still there hanging from his uniform.”

“Why does he come here?”

“To meet the master. Why else?”

The warrior was ushered in. He was not respectful. He was still enveloped in a sense of pride that dictated commands to others.

“What brings you here?” the master asked.

“I want to know about hell and heaven.”

“You look a warrior. You have a sword with you.”

“Yes, I am a warrior.”

“You may be a warrior, but in this place, you have to give up that feeling and be normal.”

But the proud warrior failed to perceive what the master said.

“I am a skilful warrior. I know my art.”

Then the master smiled and looked aside. Right at that moment, a venom of anger rose within the warrior. The master looked at the warrior from the top of his head to the tip of the feet. The warrior was angered more. He drew the sword from his uniform to bring it down to the head of the master. The master, in a pacified mood, spoke to the warrior.

“There you are... opening the gate to the hell.”

The warrior was stunned on hearing those words.

“Am I?”

Then the warrior was calm for a moment. He put his sword back in the couch which held it. Then looked at the master.

“You call yourself a warrior, don’t you?” Asked the master.

“Yes, I am.”

“But you have not conquered the enemies within you.”

The warrior was silent. He felt he had accidentally met a person who is superior to himself.

“You call yourself a warrior. I call you a warrior trying to open the doors of the hell.”

The warrior felt sorry about himself.

“Why do you want to come here with a sword hanging by your side as if to hunt?”

At this utterance, the warrior pulled out the sword.

“Throw it away if you want to close the doors of the hell,” the master said.

Without any hesitation, the warrior threw his sword away. Then he bowed down in front of the master as if pleading sympathy.

“There you are...,” said the master sternly, looking straight at the warrior’s face, “opening the gates to the heaven.”