THESTORYTELLINGMONK

Cooking up the Right Response

 

There was once a very young and naive emperor of India. His father the emperor had passed away a few months before and the son had not yet grown into royal material. Thankfully, he had a wise pundit as his prime minister, who had served under the previous emperor for over 20 years. This man was so devoted to God that whenever anything happened, good or bad, he would praise God. This would annoy the young king immensely as he was not so devout.

 

One day, as the king was stepping down from his throne, he missed the first step and tumbled. He twisted his ankle quite badly. Without thinking, the prime minister shouted, “Praise God!” For the king, this was the last straw. He exclaimed, “I nearly broke my neck and all you can think of saying is ‘Praise God’? What is this God you are always praising and talking about anyway? I am tired of hearing this superstitious prattle.”

 

The whole court fell deadly silent.

 

“I will give you a chance to save yourself by answering three questions. If by tomorrow you cannot answer them, you will be beheaded!”

 

“First question: ‘What is God?’ Second question: ‘In which direction is He looking?’ Third question: ‘What can He do?’ You have until tomorrow morning when you will report to me and give your answers. You are dismissed.”

 

The poor prime minister was devastated. His turban in disarray, he returned home and began hunting through all of his books for answers to the difficult questions. He worked throughout the day and late into the night. His trusted cook of more than thirty years brought him food, but he did not touch it. The cook, who was very fond of his master, was concerned that he was to blame. He cried, “Oh master! Please forgive me for whatever I have done. You have not touched my food today—surely I have done something wrong. Please forgive me, but don’t let your health suffer for it.” The minister would not agree to this suggestion. For hours the cook reiterated his offer until eventually the minister could do nothing else but accept.

 

The next morning, the cook was up bright and early and travelled to the palace as planned. By now, word had spread about the challenge and the court was overflowing. They were all surprised to see a dirty old cook about to address the king instead of the prime minister.

 

When the crowd settled down, the emperor spoke, “What are you doing here?”

 

The cook stepped forward and bowed to his king. With great confidence he answered, “My lord, I come in the place of my master to answer your questions.”

 

The emperor leaned forward and asked, “I trust that you’re aware of the consequences if you answer incorrectly?”

 

The cook replied, “If I do not answer satisfactorily, my head will be removed. I am happy to serve my master.”

 

The emperor replied, “This is highly irregular. If you are to address this court, you will need to be cleaned up first.” He turned to one of his aides, “Go and give this cook a bath, shave him, comb his hair and change his clothes and then bring him back in an hour when we will proceed.”

 

The cook came back dressed in splendid silk robes.

 

“All right,” said the king. “Are you ready for the first question?”

 

The cook gently interrupted, “One minute, please. I may not be schooled, but I do know the tradition…”

 

“The tradition?”

 

“Yes Your Majesty. The person who asks the questions is the student, and the person who gives the answers is the guru. Correct?”

 

“Hmm yes, quite right.”

 

“It is not appropriate that the guru should stand at the feet of the disciple. To respect this tradition I should be sitting in your throne, you should be sitting at my feet.”

 

“What?!” shouted the king. He was now in a terrible quandary. If he refused to trade places with the cook, he would not be upholding the tradition of guru and student. But if he accepted, it would be a humiliating demotion. The king thought about it. If the cook could truly answer the questions, he would deserve the temporary honor of sitting on the throne. If he failed, nobody could say that the king had not given him every chance and every honor while trying.

 

Reluctantly the king rose and descended the stairs from his throne. He spoke to the cook. “You may sit in my throne, but only for the three questions.”

 

The cook smiled and happily climbed the stairs to sit in the comfortable cushioned throne. The cook looked down and saw the king sitting at his feet, and said, “All right, Your Majesty may ask his first question.”

 

The king asked, “What is God?”

 

The cook answered, “I shall need a few items to answer this question properly.”

 

“Such as…?” growled the king.

 

“One black cow. Would you kindly provide one?”

 

“What in the name of the All-Merciful is the meaning of this nonsense!” fumed the king inwardly. He hated this turn of events, but was bound by his word. Suppressing his mounting anger, he sent for his stable boy to bring a black cow.

 

When the stable boy returned, black cow in tow, the cook asked the king, “What is the color of this cow?”

 

The king said, “It is black.”

 

“What is the color of the milk in the cow?” continued the cook.

 

“White.”

 

“Why is the milk not black?” asked the cook.

 

The king exclaimed, “What is this question? Everybody knows that the color of the milk has nothing do with the color of the cow.”

 

The cook asked, “where does the color come from then? How does white milk come from a black cow?”

 

“It must come from something it ate. The cow eats something and it makes the milk white. Simple.”

 

The cook said, “Please bring me a sample of everything this cow had for breakfast.”

 

The king sent the stable boy to gather the requested foodstuffs. In a few minutes, the stable boy returned with a tray laden with handfuls of hay and corn, a dish of water, and some grasses.

 

The cook asked the boy, “Is this everything this cow has had this morning?”

 

“Yes sir” said the stable boy.

 

The cook mused aloud, “Let’s see— pale yellow hay, bright yellow corn, green grass, clear water…. I do not see any white in here.” He turned to the king,“Where does the white come from?”

 

The king exploded, “I already told you it has nothing to do with it!”

 

“But I thought Your Majesty said the whiteness of the milk came from the cow’s food…”

 

“Ah, well yes, what I meant was…” The king felt cornered like a tiger in a royal hunt.

 

The cook explained, “The food forms the blood which circulates everywhere in the body. The blood passing through the mammary glands produces the milk. The food is yellow and green, the cow’s blood is red, and her milk is white. You cannot point to a drop of blood anywhere in the cow’s body and say, ‘this is the food turning into blood’ or ‘there is the beginning of the milk’, correct?”

 

“True,” said the king.

 

“It's the same with God,” said the cook. “You cannot divide God in discrete little pieces and say ‘God is coming from here and going there… but He is not yet here, or has never been there.’ He is ever-present, ever-flowing everywhere, without beginning or end or middle. This is the answer to your first question. Are you satisfied?”

 

The king took a deep breath and admitted, “I grant you this one. Your answer is good.”

 

The king asked his second question, “In which direction is God looking?"

 

The cook said, “I shall require another item, Your Majesty.”

 

“You may have whatever you wish,” said the king.

 

“I shall need a big candle,” said the cook.

 

A servant brought a candle, lit it in the fireplace, and gave it to the cook. The cook stood and held the candle where all the court could see the flame. Then he asked, “In which direction is this candle looking?”

 

Some people in the middle of the throne room said, “It is looking straight ahead, at us.”

Some people on the cook’s right said, “It is looking over here, at us.”

And some people on the cook’s left said, “It is looking over here, at us.”

 

The cook smiled at the king. “Do you see, my Lord? God looks in all directions at once, just like the candle.”

 

He understood this answer better than the cow answer. Getting white milk out of red blood that came from yellow and green food still had him puzzled.

 

The king declared, “You have answered the second question, even better than the first.”

 

The cook sat down in the throne again, blew out the candle and gave the candle to the servant.

 

The king asked his third question, “What can God do?”

 

The cook nestled even deeper in the king’s cushions and said, “Well, for one thing He can put me, a dirty old cook, on your throne and you, a mighty emperor, at my feet…”

 

Everybody in the court held his breath at this supreme impertinence.

 

After what felt like an eternity, the king suddenly exploded with laughter. All the courtesans heartily joined in, indeed praising God loudly for the incredible wit of this little cook.

 

The king caught a glimpse of the minister who had been hiding in the back of the crowd and beckoned him to come forward. The king stated, “I was a bit hasty yesterday. Let us forget all of this. You are now reinstated as my prime minister, and your cook will be my close advisor from now on.”