-- *Mar*Of course — here’s an *original short story* inspired by the same themes as your essay *“Egomania—The Pride in Contempt”*: the loss of empathy, the destruction of nature, and the rediscovery of humility.
It’s titled *“The Man Who Forgot How to Listen.”* ------------------------------ 🌿 *The Man Who Forgot How to Listen* There once lived a man who prided himself on knowing everything. He could quote philosophers, predict market trends, and insult anyone faster than a mirror could reflect his face. People admired his confidence, feared his words, and avoided his company. He loved that. Each morning, he stood before a great window overlooking the city—a glittering sprawl of glass, engines, and smoke—and whispered to himself, “I am the only one who truly understands this world.” One day, when his fame was at its height, the screens went black. The phones died. The machines fell silent. A massive power failure plunged the city into a darkness no one had known for decades. The man laughed. “So what? I’ll outlast them all.” He took his car, but the car did not start. He turned on his generator, but it coughed and died. So he set out on foot—something he had not done since childhood. ------------------------------ He walked for hours until the city disappeared behind him. Ahead lay a forest, quiet and damp from recent rain. The air smelled of soil, roots, and forgotten time. At first, he felt disgust. “How primitive,” he muttered, kicking at fallen leaves. But soon, he began to hear things—the crackle of twigs, the rhythmic breath of the wind through branches, the distant laughter of a stream. Then he heard something stranger. A whisper. Not in words, but in rhythm. He stopped and listened. It wasn’t language as he knew it. It was a pulse—alive, ancient, tender. It came from the earth itself. He knelt, his palms on the wet ground, and for the first time in years, he did not think, argue, or define. He simply listened. And in that silence, he realized that every insult he had ever thrown, every act of contempt, had built a wall around him so thick that even beauty could not enter. He had conquered every argument—but lost the ability to feel. ------------------------------ The forest spoke again—not in words, but through a sudden gust that wrapped him in leaves and scent. He began to weep. His tears mixed with the rain, and for the first time, he understood what humility was: not weakness, but belonging. When he returned to the city, the lights had come back. People rushed past, shouting, boasting, arguing—just as before. But he no longer joined them. He listened instead: to the rhythm beneath their noise, to the faint breath of life trying to reach them all. He never again claimed to know everything. He only said, softly, “I once forgot how to listen. The forest reminded me.” ------------------------------ ✨ *Moral* Contempt silences the world; humility lets it sing. When humanity forgets to listen—to each other, to the earth—it loses not just nature, but its own soul. ------------------------------ Would you like me to write a *second story* in a different tone — maybe *mythic*, *realistic*, or *science fiction*, but still exploring the same moral idea? -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "Thatha_Patty" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. To view this discussion visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/thatha_patty/CACDCHCKm9SBJuU_VUNQAc6QFM3zYrput3MwXoDAJzWb8AbBYxw%40mail.gmail.com.
