Vikram Betal - Three Sensitive Queens

Dadi: "Guddu, let me ask you a funny riddle. A king had three queens. One was hurt by a falling flower. One was burned by moonlight. One fainted hearing a distant sound. Who was the most sensitive?"

Guddu: "Those don't sound like real injuries, Dadi!"

Dadi: "This is from the tales of Vikram and Betal, where everything is exaggerated to make a point. Listen to the full story."

Guddu: "Okay, I'm curious now!"

Dadi: "In the city of Ujjayani, King Dharmadhvaja had three beautiful queens. He loved all three equally, and all three were remarkably delicate - sensitive beyond ordinary human measure."

Guddu: "How sensitive?"

Dadi: "One day, the king was playfully arranging flowers in the first queen's hair. A lotus blossom fell from her ear onto her thigh - and left a wound! She cried out in pain, and doctors had to be called."

Guddu: "A flower made a wound? That's impossible!"

Dadi: "Another night, the king and his second queen were enjoying the moonlight on the palace roof. Suddenly she screamed - the moonlight was burning her skin like fire!"

Guddu: "Moonlight burning? That's even stranger!"

Dadi: "And the third queen? While sitting in her chamber, she suddenly collapsed unconscious. The cause? She had heard the sound of a mortar grinding rice - from a house far, far away across the city."

Guddu: "So one was hurt by a flower, one by moonlight, and one by a distant sound?"

Dadi: "Exactly. Now the Vetala asked Vikram: which queen was the most sensitive?"

Guddu: "Let me think... The first one was actually touched by something. The second one was touched by light. But the third wasn't touched by anything at all!"

Dadi: "Excellent reasoning! What does that tell you?"

Guddu: "The third queen's sensitivity was so extreme that just hearing something from far away affected her. Nothing even touched her body!"

Dadi: "That's precisely how Vikram answered. The third queen was most sensitive because her reaction needed no physical contact at all. Pure sound from a great distance was enough to overwhelm her."

Guddu: "But Dadi, is being that sensitive actually good? She would faint all the time!"

Dadi: "Now you're thinking deeper! There's another version of this story where the third queen doesn't faint from a grinding sound - instead, she faints when she hears someone crying in the next room."

Guddu: "That's different! That's sensitivity to another person's pain!"

Dadi: "And in that version, Vikram's answer changes. He says the truly sensitive person is one who is sensitive to the suffering of others - not just to their own comfort."

Guddu: "So there are two kinds of sensitivity?"

Dadi: "Exactly, beta. One is about physical delicacy - like being hurt by flowers or moonlight. That kind of sensitivity can make life very difficult but doesn't help anyone else."

Guddu: "And the other kind?"

Dadi: "Sensitivity to other people's feelings. Noticing when someone is sad even if they're pretending to be happy. Feeling uncomfortable when you see injustice. That kind of sensitivity is a strength, not a weakness."

Guddu: "So the story teaches us to be sensitive in the right way?"

Dadi: "The riddle has no single right answer - that's its beauty. But it makes us ask: what kind of sensitivity do I value? Should I be so delicate that life becomes painful? Or should I be strong enough to handle life's ordinary bumps while remaining sensitive to other people's hearts?"

Guddu: "I think I'd rather be the second kind."

Dadi: "Me too, beta. Feel flowers without breaking. Walk in moonlight without burning. But when someone near you is hurting, let your heart feel that completely. That's the sensitivity that makes the world better."