Thought for food?

This is a legend of many moons ago.

The legend says that a long time ago, there lived 4 brothers. Marhaba, Shuye, Dhama & Vindoga. They lived a happy life. They had big farms where they grew crops, herded animals, planted fruitful trees. You could say, they had created paradise. There was a lot of love between the brothers. They lived together, shared everything amongst themselves, everyone contributing to the family equally. They were a perfect, loving, joint family. Never a quarrel between them. Everyone lived happily under one roof. It was perfect. Except for one thing.

As much as the brothers loved each other, they also loved the other people in the world, and always tried to help everyone else in any way they could. But they were troubled by a few things. The rest of the world was still living in caves, hunting like animals, scavenging for food, and just getting by day to day. They were very poor, not organised, no education, and most importantly no food. The people didn’t have the means to make their own food, and always relied on scraps. Scavenging during the days and nights, fighting and killing each other over morsels of food, travelling across lands trying to find scraps to eat. It was a bad sight, and it broke the brothers hearts.

They couldn’t understand why the other humans were in this state. “Why can’t they just farm, and make their own food, instead of begging, borrowing, stealing & killing for it?”, was the question most often heard in the brothers house. “Why did God make us so self-sufficient, yet leave the rest of his children in such a dependant state?”, they kept asking each other. They had heard stories of marauding, murder, pillaging, and barbaric behaviour amongst the people, all for the sake of food.

“You see, we need to show them the way.”, Vindoga, the eldest brother, declared one day. He knew his brothers couldn’t take this anymore, and had to make a decision.
“Yes, I agree. We can’t keep procrastinating any more. These people need our help.”, Marhaba, the second one pitched in.
Dhama, the youngest one warned, “You know what they do to people who go to help them, don’t you?”
“Dhama, your brothers are right”, said Shuye. “We have to teach them how to live.”
“I know what you are saying, brother Shuye”, agreed Dhama, “We have to think of a plan, so that they don’t end up killing us, and destroying each other over food.”
The brothers all knew the truth in Dhama’s warning words. But they couldn’t bear seeing the people of the world in this state, and all of them wanted to help.

“I have a plan”, declared Vindoga, “We all go our separate ways and teach people the secrets of making food.”
“No we can’t leave each other. We are all we got. I won’t be able to live without my brothers.”, it was the youngest Dhama. “We know how you feel dear Dhama”, said Marhaba, “but brother Vindoga is right. In order to teach the most number of people, we have to branch out, and find as many people as possible. We won’t be able to do that if we stay together in one place. We have to teach them what our father taught us. We have to pass that knowledge to them.”
Dhama looked at Shuye, and Shuye nodded in agreement. There was no other way. They had to bear the separation, if they had to save the rest of the brothers and sisters in the world. Else the world would end in destruction. Right now it was all chaotic in the human race. There was no method to the madness. Everyone was behaving like barbarians. Killing, maiming, slaughtering for food. The brothers knew, the only way to stop this, was to teach the people how to grow crops, and make their own food. Even if it meant the brothers could no longer be together.

And so it was decided.
Vindoga would head East. Marhaba to the North. Shuye would go off to the West. And Dhama would seek the South.
The brothers knew that it was a painful decision, but they loved the humans as much as they loved each other, and personal sacrifices were in order to achieve greater good. That’s what their father had always taught them.

So the day came for them to leave on their individual missions. After a lot of sad goodbyes, and plentiful hugging, the brothers set off in different directions. They had given up their house, their farms, their lovingly maintained lands, and also their blood ties, in order to provide help for the rest of humanity. Every brother had a weary heart due to the separation. In the past, they had never been away from each other for even one day, and now they were separating forever. But there was hope, there was a possibility for the future, a glimmer of salvation for the rest of the world.

Many years passed.
Vindoga, in the east, had settled down in a malachite rain forest, surrounded by deep rivers, and glacial mountains. Marhaba to the north, had created refuge in the tall snowy mountains, over-looking vast valleys. Shuye had travelled to the fallow fields of the east, nestled in the crook of high hills just next to the sea. Dhama, had meanwhile found a lush oasis in the middle of the southern desert.

Unknownst to each other, all of them had set up base in their respective areas, and built a small refuge for themselves, and for the people they had came to help. They had created farms, planted native crops, and built a sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. Slowly the neighbouring people, after hearing tales of the mysterious wanderers, came to visit them. The brothers welcomed them with open arms, gave them a refuge to stay, and started educating them in the ways of life. Slowly, and with the passage of time, their sanctuaries grew. More and more people started coming. The brothers were making lots of food to feed the hungry stomachs of the wandering nomads around them. This was a big change to the barbaric lifestyle that the local people were used to living for ages. Home cooked food, plain but nutritious, filling and uplifting. The fame of the brothers grew. More and more people started coming to their refuge to quench the pangs of a hungry stomach, and a depraved soul.

All of the brothers were excellent cooks. They knew how to use the indigenous plants and animals to their advantage, and they created their respective cuisines around the materials available to them. Marhaba in the mountains used a lot of mountainous berries and herbs in his cooking. Dhama in the desert was adept at using the various palms and cacti that grew there. Shuye had planted fields of wheat, and used the sea, and its salt in his food preparation. Vindoga, used a lot of the forest plants, roots & spices, and cultivated rice paddies. Each brother had used Mother Nature to perfect their respective cuisines. They were living in accordance with nature, and were feeding countless men, women, and children. Everyone was happy.

But there were still many people in the surrounding areas who couldn’t come to these sanctuaries. So the brothers kept travelling through their lands, creating smaller retreats for the local people around them. Slowly, their presence grew over those lands. More and more people were being fed by the brothers’ retreats sprinkled across the lands. They even sent out trusty messengers to take the word of their food, across to lands far away, so that none of the people missed eating a good meal. So that no one slept on an empty stomach.

It was all going well, and many moons passed. The brothers realised that there were still people in the world, who couldn’t come to the many sanctuaries spread all over. So they created recipe books, and guidelines, which their messengers could carry and distribute amongst the many people. These recipe books would teach the people how to grow crops, how to maintain fields, how to use the native materials and prepare food for themselves. These books would teach the people how to live a human life, far removed from the barbarisms that many of their ancestors had seen. The sanctuaries grew.

After a lot of years, and after seeing their labour of love gather fruit, one by one, all of the brothers passed on to the eternal life, content and happy at making a difference to humanity. Their legacies, however lived on, in the generations of people that were left behind. The brothers had departed sated and blissful, fully aware that no one in the world would every go hungry again. That no one in the world will resort to killing, stealing, marauding for food again. That no man, woman, or child shall ever sleep hungry again. Yes, the brothers had achieved what they had set out for. Their satisfied souls reunited in the other eternal life, content and proud of each other’s achievements. The four brothers were one again.

Meanwhile, on Earth, their loyal followers had elected Head-Chefs to take over the respective retreats. The Head-Chefs gathered around lesser chefs, and decided amongst themselves that their founders legacies should live on forever. They gathered all the various recipes, guidelines, rules, methods that their founders had passed on for years, and bound them in a single book format for ease of use and reference. They did not want the words of their founders to disappear amidst the sands of time. The respective Head-Elects made many copies of these books, and gave them to different messengers. They wanted the messengers to travel to far-away lands and spread the word of their founders. The messengers travelled far and wide, creating more and more sanctuaries as they went. Using the reference books, the messengers set up more and more camps, and gathered plenty of followers. The world was big, but slowly and surely, the spread of the four sancutaries was enveloping the lands.

Years and years passed on. The head-chefs too passed on for eternal life. Newer head-chefs were elected. Newer recipes came in. Newer materials were gathered. Newer lands were encompassed. The enterprises were growing bigger and powerful. They had resources, manpower, materials, technology. And they had the “Books”. As man evolved, so did his adaptability. As his reach grew, so did his ego. The “Books” which humbly started off as a set of guidelines for people to live, adapt to nature, live in accordance with the native resources, and create food for themselves using the abundance around them, had now grown into a massive Know-It-All that every respective follower lived by. The “Books” became sacred. The recipes became holy. The guidelines -- like cutting the vegetables in a certain way, washing the fruits in a specific way, planting the crops in a particular method, checking for weather patterns, using different plants for different seasons -- all became rituals. And the sanctuaries, which started off as small refuges & retreats, became Enterprises. And slowly, the enterprises became Empires.

The empires were growing more and more powerful. And so were their head-chefs, who had now turned into Emperors. They needed more power. They needed more followers. Eventually the empires, after criss-crossing the world, finally crossed paths with each other.

Their paths were meant to cross.

The brothers knew that from the start. They knew that the world was small, and people were plentiful. Sooner or later, their sanctuaries would inter-mingle. They had hoped for this. They knew that inter-mingling would prove beneficial to everyone. Imagine the love and comfort each person of the respective refuge can give to the other. Imagine the blend of cuisines it would create. The cultural potpourri would be delectable. Each cuisine different, yet the principle behind it the same. The brothers had planned for it. Before they set off, they had sat down and created a set of rules that they would adhere to. A set of principles that would be universal. A blend of recipes that would be unique and different based on the land they occupied, yet having the same uplifting effect on the people who ate the food.

The methods were different, the result the same.

The brothers knew they would use different plants, crops, fruits. They knew that the method of cleaning, cutting, preparation would be unique to each area. But they also knew that the goal would be the same. Each person who eats the food, feels happy and blissful. They get a restful night’s sleep. They get renewed energy and vigour, and sustaining life to carry on for the next day. The brothers were aware that people using their guidelines, however different, would never go hungry again. They would learn to live amidst nature, use its bountiful resources, and learn how to cook for themselves. They would reach salvation. The brothers had created different paths to the same destination. The brothers hoped that their sanctuaries followers meet each other and live peacefully, feeding each other the delights that they prepared.

Everything in co-existence. Everything symbiotic. Everything peaceful.

But reality was different. When the paths of the respective empires eventually crossed, there were clashes. Each empire saw that the other empire was different. They saw each others’ “Books” and realised the differences in them. They saw that each empire had different recipes. They saw that the methods of preparation were different. They saw that the ingredients were something they were not used to. Everything was different. Everything was scary. They had come to trust their respective “Books”. They had come to worship their “Books”.

The brothers had never intended this to happen. After all it was just a set of guidelines which led to a full stomach. Which led to salvation. But no, the Head-Chefs for generations had transformed the “Books” and the recipes it offered into something Holy. Something Sacred. Something to Fear and Revere. Something to Worship. Something to Live By. Something to Die For. And eventually, something to Kill For.

The clashes increased. Each empire with its set of upbringing, backed by their “Books” and “Flags” and “Rituals”, thought IT was the only supreme One. They wanted the others to leave their respective customs. They wanted everyone to follow what they had brought to the world. And no one backed down. Each follower was vehement & fanatic in what he or she believed. Each follower thought his or her identity would be destroyed as long as the other empires were still existing. So they set out to destroy the other empires. The wars were fought long and hard. For many years. For many generations. Many lives were lost. Much blood was shed.

Centuries passed. The legend says that the respective empires are still fighting. Eating their own food, and refusing to touch the food of the “other”. They prefer going hungry than to eat from the “other” hand. They would much readily cut the “other” hand, instead of letting it feed them. The brothers passed on, but their legacy still remains. The recipes/rituals remain in some form or the other. None of the new followers know the principles behind the preparation/customs, the mechanics behind the purpose. The “Books” remain. The language has been lost, taken over by newer languages. Newer translations of the “Books” are rife and in abundance. People worship them. They hold them dear, they live by them, they die by them, and they are willing to kill for them.

The founding Brothers have been transformed into Gods / Prophets / Divine souls. The Head-Chefs have become Saints / Priests / Apostles. The way of sustaining life that the brothers taught has transformed into Religions with millions of followers. Each Empire growing by the day. Each empire trying to prove its superiority to the other. And life goes on.

Everything has been transformed into something new. But the message of the brothers has been lost. The PURPOSE of the brothers that set out to feed people, turn them from barbarians into humans, teach them how to create food for themselves, to live a blissful, self-sustaining life, has been lost in the passage of time. The followers still make food, but they still sleep hungry. They still grow crops, but they do not know why. Nature also doesn’t provide much bounty these days, because the followers lost the method of living in accordance with it. They blindly follow the recipes, but wonder in confusion when the cuisine doesn’t turn out as promised by the “Books”. The traditions are there, but the essence is lost. The rituals are there, but the aim is lost. The empires are there, but the sanctuaries are lost. The religions are there, but the soul is lost. The food is still there, but the hunger still remains. People just forgot how to eat.

And somewhere the eternal blissful souls of the four brothers meet, and wonder what they did wrong. They set out to transform humans into creators, but the humans ended up being destroyers.
The brothers shrug their shoulders in resignation, shake their heads in disappointment, and hug each other in solace. They know that someday the humans would awaken. The hope that someday the destroyers would realise the futility of their ways, and turn into creators. They wish that someday the hand that now cuts others, will turn into a hand that makes food and feeds others. There is one message that they still wish to pass onto the starving humans. The eternal message that their dying father passed onto them. The message that resonates in eternity, and will remain forever. The message that they wish each of their followers imbibes, and understands.

That message is, “Know thy food. For thy food shall set thou free.”