Diogenes, the Cynic & Alexander of Macedon

 

Diogenes was a Greek philosopher, a Cynic, notorious for his very conspicuous philosophical stunt of carrying a lamp in the marketplace during the day, claiming to look for an honest man.

A delicately concealed way of saying, ‘sab chootiye hain’ (everyone’s a dud).

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Some anecdotes,

On a voyage to Aegina, Diogenes was captured by pirates and taken to the slave-market in Crete to be sold. A Corinthian named Xeniades approached.

X: What is your trade slave? What can you do?

D: I know no trade but to govern men. I would be of most value to a man in need of a master.

(He was hired to tutor Xeniades’ two boys)

**

Diogenes’ only material possession was a wooden bowl to consume soup and water from. One day he saw a village boy drink from the hollow of his hands.

Discarding the bowl he exclaimed, ‘What a fool I have been to carry superfluous baggage all this while.’

**

When Diogenes left home, his servant Manes was ordered to accompany him. A month later, finances dwindling, he eloped.

Diogenes’ acquaintances suggested a legal recourse.

He reasoned. ‘When Manes is on his own without a worry should Diogenes be running from pillar to post? Who is the master and who is the slave? If Manes can live without Diogenes, Diogenes must flourish without Manes as well.’

And so it was from that day forward.

**

One nippy winter morning, Diogenes was soaking up the warm sun when Alexander arrived with his entourage. (He had just returned from the successful conquest of Persia.)

A (thrilled to meet the famous philosopher): I am Alexander the Great of Macedon. I have heard many a tale about you Diogenes. I would be pleased to bring you a favor.

D: Do I look like I am missing something?

A: Well Sir, I am the King of the largest empire in the history of man. Sparkling jewels, glorious horses, prolific lands, tasteful women, I can grant anything you fancy.

D: Grant me my beautiful sunshine Alexander. Please step aside.

(Alexander’s guards tensed up, reaching for their weapons but he ordered them at ease.)

At this moment, Diogenes rolled over and peered intently at a pile of bones lying beside.

A: What’s caught your fancy with the bones?

D: I was looking for your fathers’ but cannot tell them apart from those of his slave.

**

A report that Philip II of Macedon (Alexander’s father) was marching on Corinth, threw the town into a bustle of activity. Blacksmiths casting arms, masons patching the main-wall and strengthening battlements, others, wheeling stones up the bastions to be used as projectiles. Everyone made themselves useful, one way or another.

Diogenes had nothing to do. No one thought of giving him a job. But boy, was he moved by the sight! He ditched his coat and began rolling his tub animatedly up and down the street.

(Diogenes lived in an old discarded wine tub in the town-center.)

To a curious crowd he posited, ‘I do not want to be the only idler in such a busy multitude. I am rolling my tub to be like the rest.’

**

Diogenes rejected even normal ideas of human decency.

He ate in the marketplace (then regarded bad manners), urinated on some people who insulted him, defecated in the theatre and masturbated in public, about which he said, ‘If only it was as easy to banish hunger by rubbing my belly.’

**

Diogenes was invited to the magnificent house of the most prosperous grain-trader of Crete (a veritable Ambani of his time).

On being introduced to the host, he cleared his throat and spat at his face. ‘I could not find a meaner receptacle’, he said.

**

Lao Tzu And The west-Delhi Punjaabi

Lao Tzu walked with his long-time friend each morning. He spoke sparingly, close to nothing. The friend follows suit.

One day the friend has a visitor. He brings him along for the stroll. Lao welcomes him and they set-off. As always, neither Lao nor the friend utter a word. The silence is unsettling.

The visitor, a west-Delhi Punjaabi, had only ever combined his morning yap-yap with a ghost of a walk. Nothing more, his triglyceride-laden heart would permit. This, to the tune of loud methane-emissions, embarrassing Pammi auntie.

Twenty minutes in, he’s ready to blow his lid off.

‘What a peaceful, sublime morning’. He looks at Lao. He looks at his host. The host looks at Lao. Not a word is spoken, not a step missed; as if nothing happened.

Fighting feelings of being snubbed, he resorts to mentally planning his day, rehearsing his negotiation strategy, his arguments and retorts. He’s due to meet local manufacturers of cheap electronics later.

The walk consummated, Lao quietly whispers into his friend’s ear. ‘Avoid him tomorrow. He’s but a gossip-monger.’ They bid good-byes.

*

That evening, the friend pays Lao Tzu an unscheduled visit.

Friend: I was quite troubled by your manner this morning. He only once complimented nature’s beauty. It hardly fits your description of him.

LT (after a pregnant pause): My dear Sir, I must talk about beauty. What is beauty?

Is it out there in what you see? In the mountains, the sunrise, the pines, the birds, in the grandeur of the Gompa?

Or is it in the eye of the beholder as they say? In the eye that is trained to appreciate proportion, depth, shadows. And dismiss that which has not all of the above.

Or is it in neither? What is beauty?

*

Beauty Sir, I submit to you, is when 'you' are not. Beauty is when the mind, which is thought, is knocked-out and hence time, being a creation of the mind, ceases to be. It may never be expressed but that’s an entirely trivial matter.

*

It is only when the mind snaps back, comparative studies are made, commentaries written and universities teach art-appreciation.

These are ancillary matters; matters of a restless mind seeking titillation, increasingly matters of commerce too; art consultants advise investment in high-art. But beauty is long gone by then.

Your guest’s words only revealed that he was untouched by the spirit of the morning, for the faintest glimpse of it nudges even a chattering mind into the timeless.

Deeply pensive, the friend walked back.

**