It happened once upon a time in India that two men, by the hand of destiny, found themselves journeying together. The two were of completely different natures. One was a Pathan, a large, fierce and intensely proud warrior, and the other was a small, humble and inoffensive Brahmin. When they stopped to have a meal, the food was brought in a single bowl for them to share, and the bowl was not very big. To the Brahmin’s dismay, the hand of the Pathan was large and very active, and so he began to think how he could ensure that he himself got some of the food. Then he remembered that Pathans are reputed to have great reverence for their ancestors, so he said to the soldier, “Tell me, huzoor, how did your father die?”

“My father?” said the Pathan. “The greatest warrior the world has ever seen! His like has never been equalled! There was a battle, you see…”. And forgetting about the food he began to describe the events that led up to the demise of his noble and respected father.

Meanwhile, nodding along with the story, the Brahmin quietly began to take his fill from the bowl.

But after unfolding numerous details about the battle that claimed his father, the Pathan noticed that there was hardly any food left, and so he cut short his tale, saying, ” –and then he died! But tell me, Brahmin, how did your father die?”

“My father? Well, he got old,” said the Brahmin, scooping up the last morsel of food and popping it in his mouth, “and so he died!”