Kahlil Gibran Revisited

I'm an eclectic reader, lover of music and while not a big TV fan, I've consumed much media over the years. Once I came across this voice from the past and was intrigued.

So much so that I revised one of Gibran's vignettes to suit my interests. I wanted to leave the story open ended with the question, more or less, in the lap of the reader.

If you haven't read anything by him (Wiki on Kahlil Gibran), please do and check out specifically, "The Wise King". I hope you also like my version which I share below.

Andy

Once upon a time, there was a Kingdom known throughout the Land.  It was famous for the peacefulness and happiness of the people who lived there.

Everyone felt, both within and without, that the reason for the peace and bliss was because of the King who ruled there; he was a most benevolent and fair King. He loved his subjects dearly and to demonstrate his love he gave them unconditional use of the Land’s most prized feature, the Spring Well.

The Spring Well was located in the center of the castle grounds. All sincerely believed, that from this well sprung the best, most wonderfully tasting water. The well served as a gathering place for the entire Kingdom. People would come to collect water and share stories and give support to one another in times of need.

One Fall day, an evil magician passed through the Kingdom. Understanding the significance of the well and wishing to spoil the sanctity of the Kingdom, he cast a spell over it. Anyone who drank from the well would be doomed to dementedness.

Days passed and unrest disturbed the Land. The King started hearing reports of fighting and robbery and behavior he could not understand. He himself had not drunk from the well. He had a personal outlet of the Spring Water in the Hall. The King sat in terrible silence pondering the reports he had heard. He was wondering what could be the cause of such a change.

A week later, the King heard and saw the behavior he before learned. It was in his castle. His servants had begun to act strangely and were becoming harder and harder to find.  When he did happen upon them, the encounter was so odd to the King, so disturbing that he started to fear them.

That night the King could not sleep. He could not understand what had happened to his Kingdom. He desperately tried to explain it to himself. Since everyone else seemed different, he started to think that maybe it was not his Kingdom. Maybe something was seriously wrong with him.

He thought again. He thought of the original reports of ill-behavior; behavior that his closest knights agreed was despicable and unexplainable.  The reports were not only then seen as true, but were confirmed as much worse by his very own eyes. There was something tragically wrong with his Kingdom. He felt, no, he knew that everyone except himself had gone completely mad.

He thought about how much his subjects loved the Spring Well, but that it seemed that more than ever before people craved the water from it. After every quenching, he noticed a person’s behavior would become decidedly worse. The King knew this was a clue. Something had happened to the Well.

Exhausted, he finally fell asleep. The King was abruptly awoken by a band of his servants and some of who were his most loyal subjects. They told him that they had begun to doubt him over the past weeks. They thought he had changed and that there might be something very wrong with him. It was frighteningly serious -- he overheard some of their hushed voices speaking of murder and death.

They demanded a sign of him that he still loved them and cared for them and that he was still the King they had all once loved and esteemed. They demanded that he drink from the Well. Upwards he went; twisting, spinning as many hands lifted him aloft their heads. As they chanted and marched the way down, ever downward to the well his mind wildly raced. What could he do to bring this madness to an end? If he drank from the Well his life would be spared, but he would become like them, demented. If he did not drink he knew they would surely kill him. He had to think.

They stopped. The Well was before the crazed band, topped by the King. The terrifying moment had arrived. As they threw him to the ground, they once again demanded that he display his love for them. They demanded he drink from the Well.