“Come now, students,” Bizah’s Master said. “Gather around for our second lesson of the day.”

The students gathered, and the Master began: “I want to tell you of a man who was heavily burdened. Every day he walked bent over for long distances with two sacks of flour on his back and a long heavy coil wrapped around and dangling from his waist. In one hand he held a bag of birdseed and in the other a bag of stones.”

“Why would he do something so foolish as to burden himself like that?” asked Tonga.

“That’s the right question, Tonga,” said the Master. “Why do you think?”

One day, when climbing down a tree, Bizah tore a big hole in his saffron robe. So he quickly took it to the town’s tailor to have it fixed.

When he was without his saffron robe, he noticed that people were not as kind or courteous to him, even though he was still the same Bizah.

“How can people suddenly change their view of you when you change your clothes?” Bizah asked his Master.

“I know, it does not make sense,” his Master responded.

A few days later, Bizah had his robe back. When his Master saw him he asked, “How do you feel now that you are able to wear your robe again?”

It was one of those sunny days when the Master decided that his students needed some fresh air, to be in nature, and to get some exercise. The group set off early in the morning for the hike. The students walked together in an organic moving community led by the Master who was about ten paces ahead.

On and on they walked, taking a break only for lunch. As the sun was starting to fall, they knew their day of trekking was soon to be over. But just then, they came to a very steep hill that seemed to go on for a mile.

“When will I be ready to be of real service to others, Master?”

“Look at that plum tree, Bizah.  It is not yet ready to produce its plums.  It knows that for now, it needs to take in nourishment from the air, the ground, the sun.  Then in the right season and at the right time, it will be able to produce many plums for others.

Bizah and Tonga had finished with their schooling and chores for the day, so they decided to sit down by the lake.

Tonga was the first to break the silence.

“Bizah,” he said, “my sister just lost her husband and is in the deepest grief imaginable. She is in anguish night and day. She says she doesn’t want to be here anymore, doesn’t want to go on living alone without her husband.”

Bizah and his Master would go to the village once a week to have a special kind of tea at a small restaurant.

On one such occasion, Bizah said, “Look over there, Master. That man is very selfish.  He has eaten all the food and left his wife with none.”

“Bizah, remember you should not judge others,” said his Master.

The next week when they went to the village for their teatime, the same man and his wife were there again. Once more, the man ate all the food.

The Master said, “Look at that man, Bizah. He has eaten all the food and left his wife with none.”

Bizah hesitated for a moment, then he asked his best friend Tonga,  “Do you think I am getting fat?’

“No, you are not fat, Bizah, just round.”

“What do you mean, just round?”

“I mean you are round-looking.”

“Does Leela think that too?”

“Yes, she says you are just round.”

“Okay, today I am going to add exercise to my daily practices. Tonga, do you want to join me?”

“No.”

“Why not?” asked Bizah.

“When I get round, I will join you then.”