A Lowly Water Boy Who Shared the King’s Burden
What happens when we carry the weight of the whole world on our shoulders? Are we helping others when we sympathize with their pain from afar?
It is better to be a simple water boy living a simple life than to be in charge of a whole kingdom. - a wise man.
Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, lived a simple boy. He was a farmer’s son, but his main job was fetching water from the river and delivering it to the animals. As the sun rose, the man woke up every day, stretched his tired muscles, and began his water delivery runs.
Sometimes, he felt like his life was meaningless, that he was somehow meant for more. This can’t be it, he would often think. What is valuable about bringing water from the river to the farm?
But it was valuable. Without water, all the animals would die. Without water, there would be no farming. Without water, there would be no life. His job was simple, but it was essential.
Our water boy was no ordinary man. Oh no, he was very smart. Too smart for his own good, in fact. He would regularly go into town and listen to all the gossip, read the local news, and discuss the king's affairs.
His ideas weren’t bad, but he was a lowly water boy. Nobody listened to him. Even if he were the most brilliant political or military strategist, the king would never know his name.
The man worried about who the king entertained in his court. He held opinions about taxes, guard shifts, armory business, and foreign envoys. When he read about things happening on the other side of the world, he would worry and calculate all the possible consequences of those situations.
He often saw the flaws in people’s ways and offered solutions to everyone who would listen—mostly animals he brought water to, but sometimes a patient, drunken soul in the bar.
The king was making enemies with neighboring kingdoms. The water boy noticed no royal weddings were guaranteeing familiar relationships between kings. When he read about his king’s army attacking foreign outposts, he would argue with whoever would listen to him about how wrong the king was in his actions.
How reckless, and how it would bring about devastation to his people. The water boy was smart. It was true. The king was making huge mistakes. But alas, he was the king. They were his mistakes to make.
The weight of this knowledge haunted him day and night. He worried about all the people who would be hurt. He felt their pain even before they did. As he thought about all the king's mistakes, so obvious to him, but no one else saw them, it would eat him from within.
A vicious pain in his chest was his daily companion. On top of gallons of water, he carried the weight of the whole kingdom on his weary shoulders!
One day, the farmer’s daughter, whom he was very fond of as she was kind to him, not to mention curvy in all the right places, got married to an absolute brute of a man. It wasn’t an arranged marriage. She seemed to have fallen in love.
“How could she be so blind?!” the water boy thought. “Can she not see the warning signs? They’re staring her right in her face!”
He worried about her day and night. Especially after she got pregnant. Now, he had to worry about her children, too! Just as he worried about the king’s business. So much so that he had problems sleeping.
Instead of once a day, he would go into town thrice a day to be brought up on all the king's current activities. Every little detail about the kingdom was his burden to carry, or so he felt.
The neighboring town now had a shiny new bulletin board next to his favorite tavern. There, he would find all the latest news about crime in the region, tax reports, executions, and obituaries.
Not only that, but the board was filled with news and information from other kingdoms, villages, and cities. Sometimes, from parts of the world, he hadn’t even heard of and would never visit.
Just the other day, he was staring at the moon in the middle of the night, his heart torn into pieces, as he thought of a poor village that had been destroyed by an avalanche. He couldn’t remember the kingdom's name, but the news he read stated the names of all the deceased. He remembered those.
“Such a tragedy, he thought. Those poor souls. All lost, and for what? Why didn’t someone help them? Surely, there was something that could have been done to avoid this tragedy. Our king, with all his coin and power, should have done something for them, but no, he cares for no one but his royal ass!”
The water boy read about monsters taking children in the Far East, large men with axes from the North pillaging villages in the West, and draught devastating farms in the South. People were starving. They were getting slaughtered, raped, and kidnapped by the thousands. It was all so terrible. This world, he thought, was as if possessed by evil.
His was a quiet little village, hidden away from all the drama of the world. No one was killed, raped, or starving. They lived in a little paradise between mountains, an identical village by a plentiful river providing for all their needs.
Even their king didn’t bother with the village, leaving them alone as long as he got his royal tax. There were no monsters in these woods kidnapping children and no large men pillaging their stores. Yet, the man was under immense stress.
There was a girl there who liked him for all his flaws. She was simple but not bad-looking. He liked her but never engaged. “What’s the point?” He would say.
“Something horrible is going to happen to her or me, sooner or later. It’s just the way of things. I cannot bring a child into this world. That would be cruel and irresponsible. Do you not see how horrible this world is to young, innocent children? Do you not read the news? Danger preys on them everywhere, from men, beasts, and nature alike. No, I cannot bear the thought of having children only to see them suffer and be taken away one day!”
So he never married that girl, and he never had any children. He never even rolled in the hay as a practice run, despite the poor girl's insinuations.
Slowly but surely, he was withering away, alone and sad. It did not matter that everything he read about didn’t happen to him. He felt it just the same. Their pain was his pain. Their misfortune was his misfortune. Their tears were his now.
He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders as if gallons of water weren’t enough. Year after year, he would consume all the news and worry and cry himself to sleep. When he could actually sleep, which wasn’t often.
The world was such a cruel, horrible place, he thought, feeling guilty lying in his bed. “People are suffering everywhere, and I’m here enjoying this paradise. It’s just not fair.” It hurt him deep inside. The injustice and the cruelty of men and nature combined. He resented his king for his foolishness. He resented the evil men who committed atrocities on the other side of the world. He resented himself for not being able to do anything about it.
The local kids called him “crooked old man,” but he wasn’t old. He just looked so tired all the time. His body began crumbling under all that weight - the weight of the world. The man looked twice his age and felt older still.
Someday, he noticed blood dripping from his nose. There was something seriously wrong with his body. He felt like he was being eaten from the inside, one organ at a time.
None of the local healers knew what was strong with him. There were no apparent symptoms, visible wounds, or indications of what could be wrong with the man. They tried their best to cure him but were rendered helpless.
You see, there wasn’t anything outside him that was attacking him. It was his own body. All that anger, resentment, and pain he was carrying around had taken their toll. He was dying with half his life ahead of him. Every day that went by, he grew weaker and weaker.
One day, an old sage rode through the village—a wise old man who carried nothing but a smile on his travels. The villagers would gather in the evening to hear his tales of adventures and wisdom. It seemed the old sage had seen it all. He was knowledgeable and had a story for everyone to enjoy. Through his tales, they realized the man didn’t live an easy life.
On the contrary, he had seen war up close, been involved with the king’s politics, and somehow survived the backstabbing courts. He told them he was once a nobleman, and his house was full of gold and silver. Animals and women. Even children’s play.
He wasn’t always a lonely traveler, visiting remote villages and sharing wisdom. He lived a full life until, one day, he could stand it no more. The constant danger, spies, and people after his wealth began getting to him. He became miserable and suspicious of everyone, including his family. One day, they couldn’t take it anymore, leaving him to his misery.
The old sage did not explain further, only that the life he knew before had ended, and he had died. He was stabbed by a robber craving his wealth. Left for dead, he stared death in the eyes and surrendered to his fate. He was lying there all alone on the street outside his luxurious house, with his guts reflecting the moon’s light from above with not even a dog to lick his wounds.
All that money, power, and influence suddenly meant nothing. Losing it all, lying there in the pool of his blood, all he could think of was his family. Not his whores. Not his wealthy friends. Not his titles or chests of gold.
In his last moments, he just wanted to be surrounded by the people he loved most. He would have given it all away of his own free will to see them one more time and to be able to take back his mistakes. Alas, time waits for no man. The only way is forward.
He died on that day, or at least it felt like it. After a few days, he woke up in his bed, wrapped in bandages. A good samaritan found him and cared for him. It was a woman who never told him her name. Without ever uttering a word, she healed him and then attempted to leave. She wanted no payment, not even a thank you.
Seeing how he lost everything, he followed her and never left her sight. She didn’t mind. Perhaps she even wanted it. They walked for a long time and ended up in a lone monastery hidden above the clouds in the mountains.
There, his life would change forever. Reading hundreds of books, meditating, and contemplating, he began to see the world in a new light. No longer interested in material matters, he would focus only on trying to understand himself and the whole universe.
He felt like a different man after having died and was no longer interested in material possessions, reputation, or power. They did him no good when he needed it most. One moment and everything he had sacrificed so much for was gone. Puff, and he was nothing more than a corpse in the dirt, just like any other poor soul that ever walked the earth.
Now, he travels the world talking to people and sharing his wisdom with anyone willing to listen. Even though he has nothing, he never feels like he’s lacking anything. He is at peace, content, and happy in his simple way. Happy to just be alive.
When the villagers heard his story, they thought of the old water boy. They brought the sage to see him and asked if he could help. The old sage replied that he was no healer but would be delighted to get to know this simple water boy who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
After a while, the old sage began to see the problem. The water boy was so burdened by all that was wrong with the world it was taking its toll on his body. He worried about it all while being unable to do anything about it, which is a cursed combination!
“Why do you want to know what your king does?” the old sage would ask.
“What do you mean? I think it’s our duty to know everything that goes on in this kingdom. After all, it’s our home. We can’t just pretend these things don’t matter,” the boy answered.
“I see. Don’t you have someone in charge to take care of these matters?”
“Like who?” the boy asked.
“The king and a whole court of people advising him,” the old sage replied.
“The king is incompetent!” the boy exclaimed. “He can do nothing right!”
“I see,” the old man replied. “You believe you could run a kingdom better than the whole court?”
“Anyone can! It doesn’t take a genius.”
“Maybe. So why don’t you?”
“Why don’t I what?”
“Why don’t you take over the king's work and rule in his stead?”
“That’s an absurd question. I can’t! I’m just a water boy from a forgotten village in the middle of nowhere. No one would ever listen to me!”
“You’re probably right. What else can you do to help the matters?”
“Me? Am, nothing. Like I said, no one would ever listen to what I have to say.”
“I see. What do you hope to achieve then, with all the worrying and contemplating king’s business?”
“You ask weird questions, old man. I don’t know. Are you implying I’m not allowed to know or think about these matters?”
“Heavens no. You can do whatever you want. I merely ask what good it does, and what do you hope to accomplish?”
The water boy was silent for a moment and then replied, “I can’t do anything, but I want to know nonetheless. Maybe if we talk about it, and if we all cared, things would change.”
“Maybe. How likely do you believe it is that everyone will become interested and get involved?”
“Not very.”
“What do you think would happen to people who wanted to tell the king how to rule?”
“Nothing good.”
“I see.”
“Look, I’m interested, and it can’t hurt to think about it!”
“Can’t it?” the old sage asked, implying something undefined with his look. “Tell me, why do you read about all the tragedies that happen outside your village?”
“Because people are hurting! They’re dying! Little kids are suffering, getting kidnapped, or worse! Women are being raped, and whole villages are getting plundered and wiped out by floods. It breaks my heart. It’s tragic.”
“It is indeed. So what are you doing to help these people?”
“What? I can’t help them! I can hardly help myself.”
“I see. What then do you hope to achieve with worrying about them and breaking your heart on their terrible stories?”
“You with your questions! Nothing. I just. I just. I’m so very sorry for their suffering. Don’t you understand? I can’t just turn a blind eye to all the injustice in the world! It’s inhumane.”
“Is that so? How are these people benefiting from your thinking of their suffering?”
An awkward silence followed. The boy said, “I don’t know.”
“Are they in some way empowered because you cry yourself to sleep?”
“No, of course not. They can’t see me.”
“Do they feel better because you feel sorry for them?”
“No! Like I said, no one even knows I exist.”
“Does it make this world any less evil? Do the monsters now cease to attack the innocent? Do feral men stop raping women? Does nature stay her hand as not to break your heart?”
“You’re being mean, old man. I don’t appreciate it. Leave me be! I don’t have to listen to you. Let me die in peace.”
“I can’t,” the old sage replied. “I feel compassion for your suffering. It breaks my heart to see you in such pain. I cannot leave your side.”
“Not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment, but there’s nothing you can do about it. No one knows what is wrong with me, only that I’m dying. Go away now.”
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to sleep if I leave you here like this.”
“You don’t owe me anything. We’re not related. We’re not even friends. Why do you care?”
“I, too, care deeply for my fellow humans. Their suffering breaks my heart.”
“The last thing I need is another broken heart on my consciousness. I’ve got enough problems of my own. Leave me be. Please.”
“I’m sorry. I cannot. If I leave you here and you die, I will be forced to take my life as well.”
“What?! What are you saying, you old fool? Don’t even joke about such things!”
“It’s okay. If you suffer, I must suffer.”
“But why? You’re not helping, you fool! Get the hell out of here, and forget I even exist!”
“It’s too late now. I have seen your suffering. I have felt your pain. I cannot live when a world would be so cruel to a mare water boy as to kill him half a lifetime too early and without even giving him a reason!”
“I thought you were supposed to be the smiling monk, not the insane one?”
“I can smile for you. Would that help?”
“No.”
“What if I cry for you? Would that help?”
“No! What is wrong with you? Take a hint and leave me be.”
“I’m afraid I cannot. My life is now tight to yours. When you suffer, I shall suffer. When you cry, I shall cry. When you die, I shall stop living.”
“You’re insane! Do you know that?”
“Perhaps.”
“There’s no perhaps about it! You obviously don’t know what is wrong with me. You can’t help me. You can’t save me. None of that is in your power. And, before you ask - no, I don’t need your compassion. It makes absolutely no difference to me! I’ll still suffer and die an agonizing death! Now leave!”
“But I must stay with you. If nothing in my thoughts. In my heart.”
“Why do you insist on this madness?! Can’t you see you mean nothing to me, and I don’t want anything from you unless you can somehow miraculously heal me?! As soon as you walk outside these doors, I’ll forget you ever existed, you crazy old fool!”
“If you wish, I will leave you be. But I will not leave this village. I will lay down by the river and think of your suffering. I will feel your pain as if it were mine. I will stop my travels, stop my life, because what is the point anyway? I’ll just end up like you one day - sick and on my deathbed, alone, waiting for death to take me.
There is no hope for me, not for any of us. This cruel world is not worth living anymore. I will leave this room, but in my heart, I will never leave you. Never again. From this day forward, all my prayers will be for you, even after you have died. I shall mame myself to suffer like you suffered. I will make myself sick, as you are sick. And I will die like you died.”
“You really have lost your mind, haven’t you?” the sickly boy asked.
“Perhaps.”
“There is no perhaps about it - you’re insane!”
“What makes you say that?” the old sage asked the water boy.
“What good will it do me if you think of me when I’m dead? How will it help me if you stop living your life just because I couldn’t live mine? How is your pain going to alleviate mine? Listen to yourself! Wise old sage, my ass. You’re dumber than the master’s donkey!”
“I know it doesn’t help you, but I have made up my mind to take on your suffering anyway.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Forget you ever saw me, and go on with your life. You may be old, but you’re not dead yet.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because my heart is broken. This world is such a cruel place, filled with suffering, pain, and death. What is the point anyway? No. I’ve made up my mind.”
“Fine! Then go sulk somewhere else, you crazy old fool. Just let me die in peace!”
“As you wish. I will down by the river, thinking of your suffering, night and day.”
“I don’t care. Leave me be!”
The old sage bowed and left the water boy’s room. As he walked away, the boy heard him say, “By the river, young man! I’ll be thinking of you until the day I die!”
The boy cursed him and soon after fell asleep, as he was exhausted. Days went by, and the boy was getting worse. The girl who had a crush on him kept visiting and caring for him. He was too weak to chase her out and enjoyed her company anyway.
A week went by, and the boy asked if she knew what had happened to the old sage who had visited him. She told him that the old man had been lying by the river all week, refusing to eat or leave.
“He tells everyone that he is sharing in your suffering and he will die here when you pass away. Something about taking your example. I don’t know. People are getting worried. He’s looking weaker and weaker,” she explained.
The boy felt concerned. “What the hell is the old men doing? I can’t be responsible for his death. This doesn’t make any sense. Why won’t he leave?! Send him to me. I want to talk to him,” he instructed the girl.
She returned, looking sad and worried, “He said that he knows you don’t want him at your bedside. He can’t help you. So he will stay by the river, waiting to die with you when the time comes. He said not to worry. That he is still thinking of you.”
The water boy was upset. He would not be responsible for the old man’s death. It was pure insanity! Why is the old guy so stubborn? He knows it isn’t helping him get better! What’s his game?
He was now getting angry, and with his anger, he got some of his appetite back. With his appetite, his strength returned. A little every day. It’s been two weeks now, and the old man was still sticking to his word, waiting to die by the river, refusing to eat.
All this time, the water boy was cursing the old man and wondering how could he possibly be this stupid?! He is wasting his life away - and for what? It made no sense. Constantly replaying their conversation in his mind, the boy was trying to understand the old man’s insane behavior.
All he did was lie in bed and think about their conversation and how stupid the old man was in choosing to suffer when there was nothing wrong with him! He decided he would go there and give him a piece of his mind. This has to end.
After about two weeks, he was strong enough to walk out the door with the girl's help. He was furious! What was the old man thinking, making him feel guilty on his deathbed?
When he reached the river, he saw the old sage lying there. The man had lost some weight and appeared to be sleeping.
“What is wrong with you, old man!” he started yelling from afar. “Get up and go home!”
After weeks in bed, the villagers were stunned to see the boy on his feet. He should have been dead by now, yet he was yelling at an old man by the river.
“Is it time yet?” the old man asked without opening his eyes.
“Time for what?” the water boy asked, shaking with rage.
“To end our suffering, of course?”
“You don’t need to suffer!” the boy screamed with everything he had, which wasn’t much.
“What do you mean?” the old man asked. “But you are suffering.”
“Yes, I AM suffering, not YOU! My fate is not your fate! I’m the one who is sick, not you! Get up and go live your life! You don’t have to do this. There is no need for you to suffer like this. You’re not helping!”
“There isn’t?” the old man asked and looked at the boy. “I’m not?”
“Of course not! You’re being stupid. This is insanity! Stop it right now!” the boy demanded.
“But I still feel your pain. No. I don’t think I’ll leave. The world is still a terrible place. My heart still aches. There is no point in going on with my life.”
“Don’t be an idiot! I don’t know if you’re making fun of me or if you’re really this insane!”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the old man replied, staring at the kid. “Are you not suffering?”
“Of course I am!”
“Are you not in pain?”
“You know I am.”
“Is the world not an evil place where innocent people keep getting hurt?”
“You know it is.”
“Then no, I don’t think I’ll be leaving.”
“Why the hell not?! It’s not like your suffering is somehow helping alleviate mine. The world is ugly, but there are still reasons to live.”
“Such as?”
“Beautiful people,” he looked at the girl who took such good care of him, “beautiful nature. Good food.”
“Is that all? I think I'll pass. I’m staying right here with you.”
“You’re impossible, old man. What will it take to get rid of you?” the boy asked.
The old sage was quiet for a while and then offered, “I’ll make you a deal. If you stop suffering for others and carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, so will I. Until then, your fate is mine.” Then he closed his eyes and turned away again.
The boy fell silent. He sat down next to the old sage and stared at the river. After some time, he turned to the old man and said, “I don’t want you to die. Not on my account.”
“I don’t want to die, and I don’t want you to die, young man,” he replied.
They both observed the effortless flow of the river, enjoying the murmur of water.
“Deal,” the water boy finally broke the silence.
“I’m sorry?” the old man asked, intrigued.
“I accept your terms.”
“Why?”
“Because I finally see what you’ve been trying to teach me.”
“Is that so? And what have I been trying to teach you?”
“That all the horrible things that are happening to other people, affairs of the king, and natural accidents are not mine to carry.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t do anything about them. None of it is under my control. Not a goddamn thing! All this worrying. All this suffering. All this pain. All the lost years. It was all in vain. All for nothing.”
“Are you telling me I’ve starved myself for weeks for no good reason whatsoever?”
“That’s not entirely true.”
“Oh?”
“I think you knew what was wrong with me from the very beginning.”
“Is that so?”
“It is. And thanks to you, I now see it too.”
“Do you?”
“I do.”
A moment of silence followed, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was more a rewarding silence. Silence of a revelation, of completion.
“Now what?” the old sage asked.
“Now I’ll get you some soup, and then I’ll ask that wonderful woman over there to marry me!”
“I feel I’ve gotten the rotten end of the deal here, but I’ll take it, young man.”
“I’m sorry I was rude to you and that it took me so long to see it.”
“It’s quite alright. I fast for weeks at a time twice a year anyway. I just moved my schedule a bit in the hopes of saving a young man’s life. A few more days of stubbornness, and you would have called my bluff.”
“You what? Oh, you old bastard!” the boy laughed and rolled on the grass with tears running down his cheeks.
“Make that a vegetable soup with a little salt and no meat, please. I have to start slow, don’t you know,” the old man said and walked toward the tavern.
THE END
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