The King on Nidagha's Shoulders

Nidagha was standing in a crowded street in his city when a royal procession passed by. A stranger approached him—Ribhu in disguise, dressed as a common traveler.

Ribhu: "Excuse me, what is all this commotion?"

Nidagha: "Can you not see? The king is passing by!"

Ribhu: "Which one is the king?"

Nidagha: "There—the magnificent one seated high upon the elephant!"

Ribhu: "You say 'upon the elephant.' Which is the king and which is the elephant? I do not understand this 'upon.'"

Nidagha looked at the stranger with exasperation, thinking him simple-minded.

Nidagha: "How can I make this clearer? Come, I will show you."

Nidagha crouched down and had the stranger climb upon his shoulders.

Nidagha: "See now! I am like the elephant. You are like the king. You are upon me. This is what 'upon' means!"

Ribhu: "I understand 'upon' now. But tell me—you say you are like the elephant and I am like the king. But which one is 'you' and which one is 'I'?"

Nidagha froze. In that instant, the teaching from years ago flooded back. He looked up at the stranger's face and recognized his guru's eyes.

Nidagha: "Master!"

He lowered Ribhu from his shoulders and fell at his feet.

Nidagha: "I understood it in words but had forgotten it in life. There is no 'upon'—no separation between king and elephant, between you and me, between self and Self. All this time I lived as if there were two!"

Ribhu: "The teaching must become your breath, not just your belief. Now—who bows to whom?"

Nidagha rose slowly, tears in his eyes, and smiled.

Nidagha: "There is only That. There has only ever been That."

Ribhu smiled and disappeared into the crowd.