Perspective

=Perspective Story 1= Once upon a time, there lived six blind men in a village. One day the villagers told them, "Hey, there is an elephant in the village today." They had no idea what an elephant is. They decided, "Even though we would not be able to see it, let us go and feel it anyway." All of them went where the elephant was. Everyone of them touched the elephant. "Hey, the elephant is a pillar," said the first man who touched his leg. "Oh, no! it is like a rope," said the second man who touched the tail. "Oh, no! it is like a thick branch of a tree," said the third man who touched the trunk of the elephant. "It is like a big hand fan" said the fourth man who touched the ear of the elephant. "It is like a huge wall," said the fifth man who touched the belly of the elephant. "It is like a solid pipe," Said the sixth man who touched the tusk of the elephant. They began to argue about the elephant and everyone of them insisted that he was right. It looked like they were getting agitated. A wise man was passing by and he saw this. He stopped and asked them, "What is the matter?" They said, "We cannot agree to what the elephant is like." Each one of them told what he thought the elephant was like. The wise man calmly explained to them, "All of you are right. The reason every one of you is telling it differently because each one of you touched the different part of the elephant. So, actually the elephant has all those features what you all said." "Oh!" everyone said. There was no more fight. They felt happy that they were all right. The moral of the story is that there may be some truth to what someone says. Sometimes we can see that truth and sometimes not because they may have different perspective which we may not agree too. So, rather than arguing like the blind men, we should say, "Maybe you have your reasons." This way we don’t get in arguments. This teaches us to be tolerant towards others for their viewpoints. This allows us to live in harmony with the people of different thinking. = Perspective Story 2 = Maheem sat on the rock, frustrated at the cloudy sky. She normally enjoyed watching the sunset as she waited for her husband to return from the fields, but the unseasonal weather had thwarted her today. A storm is coming, she thought to herself, pulling the furs tightly around her body as the breeze became chilly. The baby had started crying, so she gathered up her tools and the basket of fruit and went inside, closing the door against the darkening sky.

Her child was quite beautiful - a little baby boy just four months old. The baby gripped her finger when she offered it to him, and this seemed to calm him somewhat. She sat down beside the crib and stroked the young one's forehead, singing him a lullaby that she remembered from her own childhood. The baby settled down and slowly drifted off to sleep once more, but she remained by him, singing quietly and waiting for her man to come through the door. What was keeping him? He should be back by now.

Quietly, she stood up and walked to the door, to see if she could see him before it became too dark. Going outside, she saw something that terrified her like nothing had done before.

The sky.

It was almost black, and the clouds were rolling and boiling as if they were alive, pouring across the sky from horizon to horizon like flowing tar. In the distance, a herd of antelope, normally so graceful, sprinted across the low ground in panic, trying to flee but not knowing where to go. An elephant was calling out in fear somewhere in the trees behind her, and thousands of birds were rising from the forest. There was no sign of her man, the gentle father of her child, the husband who she loved so dearly.

The child! She ran back inside and picked him up, holding him to her chest and folding the furs around him. She went to the entrance of the dwelling, praying that her husband would be in sight. He was not. Now the rains came. Rain like she had never seen before. There was hardly any wind, and the rain was falling vertically to the ground, as if it wanted to get there with no delay, as if it was being forced to the earth. Lightning flickered at the end of the valley, and the animals screamed, but she could not hear them above the sound of the rain. The parched land around the dwelling was turning into thick mud now, and beginning to wash away. The roof was being battered and starting to break up, and the small fire in the hut had been extinguished. Apart from the lightning, the world had gone completely black. Tears ran down her face as screamed in terror, and the baby had now begun to cry because of the cold, and the wet, and the noise, and the fear he could sense in his mother.

Maheem stood there, not knowing what to do, or where to run, or why this was happening, or where her husband was. Almost unbelievably, the rain increased in intensity until it had the ferocity of a waterfall. She slipped in the mud, and the water began to wash her down the slope. She could not open her eyes because of the strength of the rain, which felt like it was bruising her entire body. The baby in her arms, normally so gentle and quiet, was screaming in fear, and she desperately tried to keep the choking mud away from his mouth.

And then rain stopped. The world was still black, and Maheem pushed herself up onto her knees, hugging the baby and wiping the cold mud from him. Nothing. No noise but the sound of the thick, filthy waters draining past her. No rain.

Just darkness. Even the animals were silent. Shakily, she managed to get to her feet, trying not to slip in the darkness.

Maheem felt the ground tremble slightly beneath her feet, and felt her ears pop as the air pressure suddenly changed.

The wave came.

A thousand feet high, and travelling at nearly the speed of sound. It washed across the continent, obliterating everything in its path, scouring the rocks of all living things. Picking up trees, mud, rocks, people and animals as it went, it became more a solid than a liquid.

She had just enough time to turn round and scream before it hit her.



Eight days later, the last contact Maheem had with other humans was when the Great Ark nudged her broken body aside, the lifeless child still held tightly in her dead arms, as it ploughed through the churning waters of the Flood.