The power of asking meaningful questions

December 11, 2014

Yesterday a disheveled and distraught rubber tapper appeared before all in the kampung warung (village malay eatery) covered in blood and shouted at the top of his voice, ‘harimau….harimau….harimau!’

Everyone immediately reached for their sickles, parangs and blunderbust. Some asked the breathless man ‘where.’ Most rushed towards the general direction the man pointed too…somewhere towards the general direction of the mountain. Or maybe it was at the foot of the limestone hills just where the river splits….it is hard to say.

Somewhere in the commotion. Only a lone planter remained in the warung eating calmly. He summoned the breathless man towards his table with a crook of the finger, offered him a seat and order a tall cool drink. When the man tried to speak. The planter simply raised his hand and mentioned, ‘ there is no need to rush….catch your breathe first.’ Eventually after the rubber tapper had regained his composure the planter asked, ‘how did you come to be covered head to toe with blood?’

Then it finally came out….the rubber tapper had spotted a dead tiger at the foot of the limestone ravine on his way to work. It must have slipped and fell during the moonless night. Since the meat was still fresh. He thought of selling the prized tiger meat to the highest bidder and had carried it on his back…the fresh blood of the tiger must have stained his clothes.

The wise man bought the tiger meat.

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