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The Answer Lies In Your Hands A parable for grownups and their children based on ancient Indian lore. - Maya Khankhoje Maya Khankhoje is one of the talented new voices in the evolving literature of science fiction and fantasy. Long dominated by Western-centric technological positivists, speculative fiction has become more complex today --- it asks more difficult questions, takes less for granted and includes more diverse voices than ever before. However the so-called Third World is still under-represented in speculative fiction, not only in terms of setting and subject matter, but also in terms of writers and points of view that are unique to its many cultures. Maya Khankhoje's writings help fill a great void.

Long ago and far away, in a glittering kingdom by the sea, dotted with deep lakes, criss-crossed by majestic mountains and carpeted with green forests, there lived a strong and powerful King.

The granaries in his kingdom were always full, the wells in the village never ran dry, the children were healthy and played hop-scotch in the village square and the peasants danced during weddings, harvest time and full moons. The only thing that was empty was the King's heart, the only cloud in the horizon hovered over the King’s soul. The Sage was to blame for this.

The King, you see, was jealous of the Sage and craved the love and respect that the people laid down at his feet. The Sage had a long grey beard, a kind smile, gentle eyes and a deep voice that reverberated in people’s hearts. People from distant villages and from city palaces sought him in his mountain abode for advice or a healing touch.

The King paced up and down his palace halls pondering how to bring down the Sage from his high place so that he, the King could grow taller in the eyes of his people. So he started casting rumours to the four winds, preparing the grounds for a contest which would lead to the Sage's fall.

His ploy was simple. He would lead the people to believe that his Kingdom would collapse on account of the Sage's folly and that he the King, was the only person who could come to its rescue. He would trick the Sage and make him look like a fool. So he started hiding the grain, poisoning the wells, uprooting the harvests and releasing the rats to invade people's homes.

When the time was ripe, he sent his town criers to convene the people to a great feast. Long tables covered with fruits and sweets were set and big earthenware jugs were filled to the brim with refreshing drinks: coconut and mango juice, almond milk, sugar cane juice and fresh water from the mountain springs. Many goats and chickens were sacrificed for this splendid feast. The women wore their best dresses and the men wore their finest garments. At sunset the torches were lit and the nightingales released to warble to their heart's content. As the trumpets announced the King's arrival, the people watched their sovereign walk slowly with his hands behind his back and his head held high, with the pride that belongs to a king.

“Hear me, my beloved subjects”, said the King. "I have challenged the Sage to come to us in these portentous times. As you know a pall has befallen our lovely kingdom. A plague has stricken it and black skies threaten it. I say it is the Sage’s fault for bearing false witness and I will prove it.”

Having made his statement, he nodded to his arm bearers to release the old man they held tightly by the wrists. King and Sage stood face to face.

“They say you have as many answers as there are stars in the skies“, intoned the King, while he held a squirming dove behind his back. “They claim that your wisdom is greater than the wisdom of our royal person. I say they are wrong. I say that it is you who has cast a pall over our Kingdom and blighted our crops and poisoned our wells. If you think you have all the answers, pray tell me, O Sage, is the dove I hold behind my back dead or alive?” The King smirked as he said these last few words, for he planned to kill the dove if the Sage said "alive", and planned to spare it, if he said "dead". Whichever way it was, the Sage would be made to look like a fool.

But the Sage was no fool. For once his eyes held the fire of anger and his lips were as cold as death.

“Your Majesty“, answered the Sage, “the answer to your question lies in your hands.” He then turned away and headed towards the mountain with the people walking quietly behind him.

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