In days of yore, a quaint village nestled between rolling hills and babbling brooks. There lived two brothers, each with a unique craft that brought them joy and purpose. One was known far and wide as the skilled potter, able to mold clay into magnificent vessels, while the other, equally renowned, was a master drum-maker, capable of creating instruments that echoed with enchanting rhythms.
One auspicious day, as the sun bathed the village in a warm golden glow, the potter stumbled upon a hidden cache of clay unlike any he had ever seen. Its richness and purity were extraordinary, a treasure waiting to be transformed into a masterpiece. Eagerly, he gathered the clay, his mind buzzing with creative ideas.
Meanwhile, not far away, the drum-maker was exploring the dense woods in search of the perfect materials for his next creation. His keen eye spotted a robust log, and with the precision of an artisan, he began the meticulous process of shaping it into a drum. The rhythmic sounds of his adze echoed through the forest as he worked tirelessly, envisioning the harmonious beat that would soon emanate from his latest masterpiece.
Back at the potter’s workshop, the air was thick with anticipation as he painstakingly prepared the clay. Mixing it with water, he transformed it into a smooth, velvety texture. With each careful movement, he crafted a cooking-pot of immense beauty, adorning it with an intricate border that spoke of his craftsmanship. A bed of fresh grass was laid in his courtyard, and there, under the caressing rays of the sun, the pot waited to dry.
Simultaneously, in a secluded corner of the village, the drum-maker diligently worked on his creation. He hollowed out the log, shaping it into a vessel that would soon resonate with captivating beats. A sumptuous cow-skin was carefully stretched over the top and bottom, and long strips of twisted hide seamlessly joined the pieces together. The resulting drum was a testament to his skill, a symphony waiting to be played.
As the two brothers marveled at their creations, a sense of pride swelled within them. Their friends, drawn by the allure of such extraordinary craftsmanship, gathered to witness the unveiling. Whispers of admiration filled the air as they declared, “These things are fit for a King!”
However, the beauty of their work soon became a source of contention. The cooking-pot and the drum, intoxicated by the praise, began to argue vehemently over which was the more beautiful. Their once harmonious existence turned into a cacophony of discord, and none of their friends could pacify the quarrel.
Enter a mischievous monkey, swinging through the village with a glint of mischief in his eyes. Intrigued by the commotion, he approached the bickering artifacts and inquired about the cause of their dispute. The pot and the drum, caught up in their vanity, recounted the tale.
With a cunning smile, the monkey proposed a resolution. “If I decide this case, will you abide by my judgment?” he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. The desperate pot and drum, eager to settle their dispute, readily agreed, pledging to accept the monkey’s decision as law.
The monkey, reveling in the opportunity to showcase his cunning, devised a test that would forever put an end to their vanity-fueled rivalry. “Make a fire,” he instructed, “and put the drum on it. Beat the cooking-pot with drumsticks, and then you will see which is the most beautiful.”
The potter and the drum-maker, trusting the monkey’s wisdom, followed his instructions. The cooking-pot, proud and boastful, sat confidently as the drum was placed over the crackling flames. The tension in the air was palpable as the first beat echoed through the village.
However, as the drumsticks struck the once-proud cooking-pot, disaster unfolded. The pot, unable to withstand the unexpected assault, shattered into a myriad of fragments. The drum, exposed to the unforgiving flames, withered and shriveled, its once resounding beats silenced forever.
The monkey, witnessing the chaos he had unleashed, danced with glee and shouted in triumph. But his celebration was short-lived, for the two brothers returned just in time to witness the destruction of their beautiful creations. Fury welled up within them, and without a moment’s hesitation, they speared the mischievous monkey, holding him accountable for the demise of their prized possessions.
As the village settled into a sober reflection, the potter and the drum-maker faced the consequences of their folly. The once-beautiful artifacts lay broken and scorched, serving as a stark reminder of the perils of pride. The village, once filled with admiration, now mourned the loss of two masterpieces that had succumbed to vanity and rivalry.
In the end, the fable imparts a timeless lesson about the pitfalls of arrogance and the ephemeral nature of external praise. The beauty of craftsmanship, it suggests, lies not just in the external accolades but in the humility and authenticity with which one approaches their art. And so, as the village gradually healed from the discord, the tale of the potter, the drum-maker, and the mischievous monkey became a cautionary legend, shared through generations, reminding all who heard it of the delicate balance between pride and humility.
