The Parable of The Anthill

Beneath, in the sublayers of Earth, a kingdom thrives.

An old man tells this story to a young boy. He says: "To find where the Queen Ant lives, follow the trail of the smaller ants. On their arms, they carry, sustenance for the Kingdom and their Queen."

"But why do they have to work for her?" asks the young boy. "Doesn't she have the same number of feet and arms to work equally amongst them?"

"Certain things are created in a certain way. It's just the way it is. The Queen Ant is the one who breeds. In a sense, she's vital to the Kingdom. Without her, then there would be no other ants. The present ones will die and witle. And soon enough, the Kingdom will perish," the old man explains.

"But without the worker ants, the Queen will not have her nourishment? They could just store the food they gather elsewhere. Doesn't the Queen owe her life to her workers?" the boy asks again.

"They can do that. But that's disobedience. And the Queen has no tolerance for such behavior," explains the old man.

"But why do they have to follow?" the boy looks into the old man's eyes. "Don't they have any other choice?"

"Again, young boy, things are created in a certain way. They don't have to be acceptable," the old man says.

The young boy, looks at the trail of worker ants at his feet, then follows then traces them. A couple of steps ahead, an anthill is found. He kneels and picks up a worker ant.

"You will never have to work for her again," he tells the ant and puts him on the trunk of a mango tree.

"Up there, there are ripe mangoes for your picking. You can have them all to yourself," the boy says.

The boy runs into the ricefield beaming. The late afternoon breeze against his face. He picks up a kite and flies it.