The Famed Sage

The Famed Sage
Sennpra Roinab Confused.

There was once a famed sage who lived on a small island in a big ocean with a misleading name. The sage lived a reclusive life in a weathered thatch-roofed hut with no walls to speak of, beside a stagnant lifeless body of water in which he bathed in the first rays of the sun. Despite the simple lifestyle and the repugnant lake, the wealth of surrounding trees, shrubbery and miscellaneous flora provided the perfect environment in which to think the most profound thoughts. In the thatch of his roof (hidden mischievously and skillfully) was a long hardwood stick that was reserved for the sole purpose of striking out at young girls who sought to change his ways and pollute his mind with unsagely thoughts of physical pleasure.
No, the famed sage would have none of that. If ever the urge took him to enjoy a little lustful fling, he had always sought the company of either an aged or widowed woman.
So potent was his skill in bed that he reasoned only an experienced woman would be able to relish the pleasure and then turn her back on the matter. He knew that a nubile young woman would certainly enslave herself to the ecstasy his loins gave and become an addict to her own desires. Being wise and sagely he could not inflict that on a young soul yet to find spiritual enlightenment. Much as he desired the flesh of a comely young virgin, he knew it was a cruel gift to give and always ceded to the powerful restraint of his iron-will and virtuous humanity.
Despite his aversion to womankind in general, he was always available to disperse morsels of his infinite wisdom to the unenlightened. On one such occasion, a troubled-looking man who wore a garish lime-green button-down-collared shirt, a digital chronometer and carried an umbrella approached his thatch-roofed hut. The sage called his invitation to the troubled-looking man – that he might join him in the wall-less hut. The troubled-looking man felt honoured to be given an audience with the famed sage.
The troubled-looking man sat cross legged on the woven pandanus-leaf mat which constituted the floor of the simple dwelling. After some meaningless and hollow greeting were exchanged the troubled-looking man asked, “Every day I provide food for my son, chores for my daughter and exceedingly pleasurable sexual gratification for my wife. Yet they demand more; my son wants marbles, my daughter wants an education and my wife wants fewer correctional beatings. Do they want too much or am I at fault for providing too little?” The famed sage stroked his perfectly barbered beard and gave a knowing sigh. In a thought reminiscent of the Judao-Christian proverb he mused, “Be not troubled. In three profound utterances I will put your mind at ease. To question the first; there is a time for everything, a season for all things. A season for tuna; a season for monsoons; a season for tulips and a season for mangoes. It is now, quite clearly, marble season. To deny your son those glass orbs of fun that he so seeks is to defy nature. Your second quandary is simply solved thusly; it is foolish to think that your daughter would be better prepared for marriage if she were educated. Would the athlete prepare for a marathon by carving or turning a fine oak spirtle? In the same way, your daughter must focus on homeliness. Her desires are frivolous and undisciplined. You must ignore her requests; the time will come when her will is broken, her belly round and full and she will thank you for giving her the few rudimentary skills she has to quantify her existence. Now, to your wife. I find it hard to believe that a wife would complain of beatings that are indeed correctional and borne of love. A husband’s love for his wife is what drives him to beat her. He wants, and indeed you want, to perceive his wife as the perfect woman and the most certain way to do this is by providing strong deterrents from unbecoming behaviour. It is also the only way to show your son how to mould a woman, and your daughter how to be one. Walk now in peace, your head is clear – you have heard truth and reason.” Thus spoke Sennpra Roinab, for that was the wise speaker’s name. The man thanked the famed sage and walked away, troubled-looking no more.
It was at times like this that the wise sage had to thank himself for living the life of a recluse. He was certain no other man in all the lands of the world could have given those helping words with no notice. He decided to reward himself with his one worldly indulgence – alcohol.
Sennpra Roinab found himself drinking a brewed malt drink at a popular tavern, hardly the venue a recluse would be expected to be seen at but this was a celebration – he had helped somebody.
The wise sage seated himself beside a woman he assumed to be widowed and began delivering some of his finely-tuned and successful pick-up lines (though he considered them poetry par excellence). He knew that it would be only a matter of time before the supposed widow swooned – and he intended to catch her. To his horror and surprise, Roinab was promptly introduced to the woman’s boyfriend. He wondered how he could have been so wrong. He knew then that the betrothed woman is so similar to the widow; both longed for a husband to guide them and provide for them – a cock to rule the roost. It was this longing that he had detected in her aura and which had thrown him off so. The sage quickly gathered his composure and spoke to the woman’s slightly built companion. Roinab sensed the man was threatened and wanted to put him at ease.
“That is a great beard you have there. Very masculine indeed. It causes your small, delicate body to nonetheless exude an adequate level of virility, of heterosexuality. Very impressive – a clever feint,” spoke Roinab. The wee, slip of a man nodded his approval at the kind comment and tilted his glass toward the sage, all the while wearing a tight-lipped smile. The man then looked at his girlfriend to find her looking at the sage in what was clearly awe of his appraisal. The slight man crossed one leg over the other and looked at Roinab. The sage was aghast. Roinab exploded, “Don’t you see? Why grow that great beard, that masculine beard, only to cross your legs in a most feminine fashion? You have disguised your soul with hair and betrayed it with your legs! Would you also erect an outhouse only to establish the toilet outside its walls? Your masquerade is over!” Thus spoke Sennpra Roinab, for the world outside had once again shocked and disappointed him. With a graceful pirouette (intended to lure the woman) he left the tavern and headed back to the sensible world of his wall-less hut.
Rousing the next morning, to the sound of birds whistling and a neighbour beating his daughter, the wise sage evaluated the previous evening. He regretted his outburst, but took solace in knowing that the words had not fallen on deaf ears. Roinab knew that the man would change his ways, perhaps change his lifestyle, and that the woman’s heart was now property of the knowing sage. It was, to him, the ultimate test of his sageliness – to enlighten and guide others whilst under the fog of drunkenness.
In a mocking twist of fate, he encountered the couple from the tavern again, this time they were brought to him by the female’s brother, Woden, who often sought the advice of the knowing wise man. The devoted disciple introduced the two as Matteau and Eileen, announcing also the problem to which they sought answers – their relationship was in tatters. Roinab expertly disguised his recognition of the two and, unflustered, proceeded to outline the following lesson. “To the woman, I would say with great confidence that her attraction to her betrothed has snapped suddenly, like the dry twig under the bear’s foot. Like the twig she has become two. Sentiment and habit bind her to Matteau, but the thirst for spirituality and the touch of a real man force her from him and to desire what is most likely a very wise and handsome sage. The man Matteau’s problem, or one of them, is this; the key to a woman’s heart is not flowers and sweet nothings. Yea, verily I say unto you, the key is shackles and a stick. Like a wild brumby, you must first break the woman, if it is to become a tame and fitting companion. It is worth adding here that even the sternest jackeroo allows the paddocked nag a free run on the gentle slopes of Roi…er, on the wild hills.” With a look of appeal addressed to the couple, thus spoke Sennpra Roinab. He had, with a wave of his wand of infinite wisdom, repaired an irreparable coupling and ensured himself that the woman would return to his gentle, though exceedingly manly, arms.
A comfortable sage later sat beneath the umbra of his favourite almond tree to shield himself from the unforgiving midday sun and enjoy a meal of dried lamb chops. After crunching through the last piece of fibrous meat, Roinab decided to treat himself to a tour of his peaceful land on his prized motorcycle.
With the wind blowing through the extended rear locks of what he called his ‘shag cut’ coif, he espied a filling station and thought it best he stop to replenish the fuel supply of his motorcycle. Being a reclusive (and yet somehow famed) sage, he had not, nor a need for, money. So once his tank was full he told the bowser attendant – a female – what he knew she could not resist. “Your beauty is without parallel, naught in heaven nor on earth could shade your Hellenic beauty. You look like one of those rap-guy’s girlfriends.” Thus spoke Sennpra Roinab, and accordingly the woman fell into a feverish love with the man. He proceeded to explain that though he had no money, he would be happy to give here a ride on his motorbike.
Not surprisingly, the woman enthusiastically agreed. She sat her self on the pillion seat of the immaculate motorcycle and as it took off with a deft twist of Roinab’s wrist she let out a cry of glee – Wee! After a short time driving, Sennpra pulled his ‘bike onto the shoulder of the road and cut the engine. Motorcycling is particularly strenuous on the lower back and the famed sage needed to rest.
The enlightened man lay down on his back to rest it, to think, and to ponder the seemingly infinite fluffiness of the cumulus clouds gathered above the land he was so attuned to. Suddenly, the young – and delightfully buxom – woman pounced upon the sage with a wild lust in her eyes and a declaration of love from her lips.
A mutual multiple orgasm passed before Roinab awoke from his Tantric trance (a lover’s technique he had learned in other times, other climes) to find the bowser attendant had disappeared and in her stead was the brother of Eileen, Woden, who so revered the sage for his wisdom and conviction. “I thought you never ‘knew’ young women, for the curse of insatiable lust that you might place on them was irreversible. Why has the enlightened Sennpra deceived me so?” sobbed the upset disciple – or was it the devastated ex-disciple? With a condoling look and knowing nod, the sage retrieved and examined his torn clothes and dressed himself. He was not, nor need he be, ashamed of his magnificent body, but he could see that Woden was blushing.
“When the wife finds herself with unexpected and unneeded time on her hands and decides to lay seed on the pavement in order to watch the beautiful birds feed upon them and thus brighten her miserable day, she unwittingly curses them. The birds will become reliant on the seed and be no longer capable of living a normal, wild life. All this is true and I have taught you this, but I have another lesson for you. Suppose the bird was caged, in this case by the parents. Submit further that the bird was set free, not knowing how to survive in the wild. Is it still cruel to feed the beautiful bird a seed or so now? Is it not more humane to allow it at least to learn the lesson that seed is laid on the pavements of many? I say unto you that that emancipated bird now knows how to fend for itself, it is now truly wild. Circumstance defines the rule to be imposed; no rules define circumstance.” Thus spoke Sennpra Roinab and he had regained the young man’s trust and reverence. He had also taught him a true lesson in the ways of the gentleman.
Sennpra invited Woden to visit with him in his wall-less hut. It was proposed that they would watch some entertaining picture shows on the sage’s television set.

Upon their arrival, Roinab asked Woden if he had a spare device that would allow him to play the ‘new format’ discs which were circulating the island. Woden inquired as to why and was told, “Woden, for long you have awed at my knowledge of the universe and insight into the nature of man. But now I tell you, yea, verily I inform you of my partiality for a variety of film known as blue. I have acquired, from a source I cannot divulge, a disc said to contain the very content I speak of. It is indeed a ‘blue disc’ though I cannot seem to conjure forth its contents on my VCR. What I ask of you is that you provide the device to allow me to view the film.”

“But what of the girl you just performed the mating act upon? Surely she can provide the relief you seek,” asked the puzzled Woden, obviously seeing the lustful glint in the sage’s eye, “can she not provide you with what you desire?”

Sennpra chuckled a deep chuckle that emanated somewhere around his waist. His body joined his larynx in the laugh. “Oh dear boy,” he gasped, his hands held aloft to demonstrate his exasperation, “have I taught you nothing? The secret to my amazing abstinence is not control of the flesh entirely but also the sating of desires. My gift has been that through the medium of the blue movies, I have been able to satisfy my fleshen desire for women. Using an ancient technique not unknown to these lands I am able to stroke desire out of my loins and thus maintain focus on the spirituality I exude. No, it would be rash for me to approach the young lady to whom I recently gave the gift of ecstatic sexual pleasure and ask her for use of her film playing contraption. It would be – if nothing else – an infringement on her sovereignty, which is, as you may remember, was the true gift I gave her. No, I was rather hoping you would provide the machine.”

Woden was puzzled. What had so obviously sparked the sage’s ire was not what he meant at all. He had not meant to anger the sage. Sennpra sat and shook his head, all the while looking at Woden with a bemused smile upon his face. Woden wished that this boy could have access to his vast knowledge and know what it was like to be truly wise. He would then understand the predicament. And he would not make such ridiculous suggestions.