The temple was built on an island and it held a
thousand bells. Big bells, small bells, bells fashioned by the finest craftsmen
in the world. When a wind blew or a storm raged, all the bells would be peal out
in unison, a symphony that would send the heart of the hearer into raptures. But
over the centuries the island sank into the sea and, with it, the temple bells.
An ancient legend said that the bells continued to peal out, ceaselessly, and
could be heard by anyone who listened attentively. Inspired by this tradition,
a young man traveled thousands of miles, determined to hear those bells. He sat
for days on the shore, facing the vanished island, and listened with all his might.
But all he could hear was the sound of the sea. He made every effort to push away
the sound of the waves so that he could hear the bells. But to no avail; the sound
of the sea seemed to flood the world. He kept at his task for weeks. When he got
disheartened he would listen to the words of the village pundits who spoke with
unction of the legend of the temple bells and of those who had heard them and
proved the legend to be true. Then his heart would be aflame as he heard their
words...only to become discouraged again when weeks of further effort yielded
no results. Finally, he decided to give up the attempt. Perhaps he was not destined
to hear the bells. Perhaps the legend was not true. It was his final day, and
he went to the shore to say goodbye to the sea and the sky and the wind and the
coconut trees. He lay on the sands, and for the first time listened to the sound
of the sea. He did not resist that sound that day. Soon he was so lost in the
sound that he was barely conscious of himself, so deep was the silence that the
sound produced. In the depth of that silence, he heard it! The tinkle of a tiny
bell, followed by another, and another and another...and soon every one of the
thousand temple bells was pealing out in harmony, and his heart was rapt in joyous
ecstasy......