Impromptu

Rice, Water and God(Prompt: Fit)

"... have you ever wondered how?" the master raised an eyebrow and smiled a reserved smile. His eyes exuded immense confidence and enviable equanimity - signs that he was truly realised and lost in the bliss of his being. The disciples sat in front of him shook their head suggesting they either didn't know or hadn't wondered how something as commonplace as rice could serve as a metaphor for God. One disciple let out a chuckle. 

The master turned sharply in his direction, cleared his throat and began to speak. "It is quite common to ignore simple day-to-day objects that tell us about God. We always try to contrive the non-existent or something extraordinary to try and conjure up his image." The master let out a sigh and beckoned the pupil in his direction. "Walk up to the window and tell me what you see."

"A river flowing in all its beauty, master," the pupil said, hands folded in front of him. 

"What would you do if I gave you all the time you want with the river?"

"I'll dive from the bridge and swim until I no longer can, master."

"And you?" the master asked another disciple. 

"I'll drink the nectar-like water, master."

"And you, son?" he asked Jagannatha, the school's glutton. 

"I'll fish so I can fill my tummy..." the master cut him short with a wave and smiled smugly. 

"And you," he asked a seemingly indifferent student. 

"I'll sit on the bank and listen to the calming sound of the water flowing," he said, seemingly absorbed in the act already. 

"Very well," the master rose. "All of you, tell me at the clap of my hand, what did you see?" The master clapped and everyone said "The river" in unison. 

"A quencher of thirst, giver of joy, a source of delicious food and finally, a calming presence," the master returned to his platform and sat down. "And yet, it is the same river. The water that flows remains the same, but is capable of satisfying the many needs of many without changing itself. It lets someone into it, gives a little of itself to some, gives what it has to some and finally simply remains itself for some. God is so - omnipotent and omnipresent, manifesting in more ways than one as the devotee perceives and yet, remains God. The ancient Indian sages called him the eternal, immutable principle."

"And what about the rice analogy?" Jagannatha interjected the sermon that everyone else listened on to with rapt attention. 

"Come here," the master chuckled this time. He wrapped his hand around Jagannatha's shoulder. "No matter what you add to the rice, be it tamarind paste, lentil sauce, curd or simply ghee, you still have to chew them all alike. The additives may seem to give rice a flavour that it doesn't have. But they are not tolerable by themselves. Just as the rice makes the overtly flavoured foods palatable, God makes living bearable. The flavours will only change your perception of what you are eating, but not the food itself. Likewise, God is unchanged. Only our understanding of him is. This is why we fight over him, just as we fight over which food is tastier."

"If God can be explained this simply," a disciple asked, "why is experiencing him so difficult?" 

"Man's greatest mistake is to make God fit for purpose. You can't swim in rice and make rice-pudding with water. We don't understand that. That's why," the master said.