Skip to main content

The camel, the painter, the poet and the critic


A painter, a poet and a critic were crossing the desert.

One night, to kill the time, they decided to describe the camel that was accompanying them.

The poet  took ten minutes to describe the animal’s nobility in beautiful verses.

In a few rapid strokes, the painter offered his friends a drawing.

Finally the critic entered the tent.

He came out two hours later, by which time they were all annoyed at how long he was taking.

“I tried to be quick, but I discovered flaws in the animal,” said the critic.

“It doesn’t run. It’s uncomfortable. It’s ugly.”

And he handed his friends a wad of pages with the title:
“The perfect camel, or how God should have made the camel.”

 

(Arab oral tradition)

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A poem for my Malaysia

This poem is written in Malay Language, my homeland's national language. It is written in the spirit of the celebration of Malaysia's 62nd Independence Day. It is not meant to condemn or based on any specific ethnicity, or person. It is purely from the heart and mind of mine for the love of my birth country, a moment simply for my homeland. Sejenak untukmu Aku bukan bukan Melayu kerana aku cukup Melayu, cukup Cina, cukup India, dan cukup lain-lain kaum. Aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan bukan Melayu kerana aku atuh pada rukun. Rukun aku rukun negara. Usah disindir kepercayaanku kerana aku bukan calang-calang orang. Aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan bukan Melayu. Aku tahu Melayu, aku hormati Melayu, dan aku cintai Melayu kerana aku anak Malaysia. Aku bukan anak India. Bahasa ibuku Tamil,  kampungku pekan Melayu, sekolah rendahku sekolah Cina. Kerjaku merantau dunia. Kini sudah dekad lamanya aku dikota Lon...

The Glorious Roses

If there is a plant I won't miss planting in my garden, it's roses. Though it's not easy ( especially with the presence of its mortal enemies), every season brings a new learning experience, and it's lovely to see the colourful blooms adorning my garden containers. Among them, the baby pink rose always makes me smile with its delicate hue and graceful petals. Why? Because it reminds me of my mum… On the other hand, it adds to my muse. Roses are lovely but have thorns; so is our life sometimes or quite often too prickly. But beyond the pain; the softness of its petals embraces us; the sweetness of its smell and the beauty of its whole. Life, much like a rose, is a delicate interplay of beauty and pain. The thorns symbolize the struggles and hardships that we inevitably encounter, making our journey sometimes, or quite often prickly and challenging. These difficulties, while painful, are an intrinsic part of life, shaping our resilience, fortitude and gratitude. They remi...

A Dream Journal

It was a normal end of school day, I was ready to pick my boys from the Shine Club- the after school club, right after concluding my very own fabulous chores  in the classroom that I work. Everything and everyone seems so busy, I picked my boys and just then I remembered, I left my bag in the classroom that I was covering previously. So, I went to the other class, got my bag and exited through the main office when I saw, the familiar face, the most respected figure in my life, my idol and my world, my everything waiting there for me and my boys with her kind smile, she held my little-one's hand and the four of us started walking home...and this is in real-time until I was wide awake when my nightly brain saw the fair flash of the wintry sunshine through the little opening of my blue velvety curtain. Time was 9 am and never in my life since I became a mother myself, I slept till this late morning. I woke up with a smile, feeling loved once again by the most important person in my li...