Here's a very curious ancient story of Indian, comical too. Have you heard it?
Back in vedic times, there was a wild mystic - not Dattatreya, it was about a millenia later - let's just call him Babaji.
The people perceived Babaji as a fully enlightened being, able to incarnate any aspect of the highest divinity, but he skirted all conventions, wearing only a loincloth by curtesy.
The King sorely wished to meet him, having sent multiple messengers whose invitations were deflected by the mystic. One day, the King finally met him while traveling on the road, and after assertaining his identity, invited Babaji to come to the royal temple and conduct the ceremony, as lead brahmin among the priests. The priests themselves, the brahmins conducting the rites, grudgingly admitted the wish of the king, hoping to protect their good standing with him.
And so it was. Babaji came to the temple and, working with the brahmin priests, started the preparations; they had to bless, and prepare for sacrifice, untold amounts of incenses, flower petals, fruits, spices, oils and so on.
As the halls began to fill, music started, and slowly the nobles started trickling in. And the trickle became a flow, every seat was taken, filling the halls to the brim, with people eager and curious.
Finally the king took his seat, and the ceremony started. Babaji took the reins, and right away led the chants with a rare devotional intensity, a quality of presence that led some in the crowd to experience transcendental enlightenment, then and there.
The time came for the mystic to prepare a platter of select offerings, from wide piles and swathes of blessed sacrificial fruits around the altar. Babaji took and uncovered the sacrificial plate, lay it before the altar, squatted and - shat on it. Swiftly placing the jewel-encrusted silver cover back on the plate, he stood up and proceeded with the ceremony with the utmost dignity.
And there were many gasps, the king as well as many in the crowd were seriously offended, but nobody dared disturb the ceremony - lest they also anger Divinity. Let this foolish mystic destroy himself, they thought.
So Babaji handed the platter to an adjoint priest, to go and circle the idols, offering in hand. The brahmin priest, appaled, took off the bejeweled cover - and there, on the plate, yes, was an actual turd, but a turd of solid gold.
What could this mean? What do you think? Let me know your opinion!
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