False Fruit
In a dusty village where no tree bore fruit, one tree turned golden.
Its branches hung low with glowing orbs, sweeter-looking than mangoes.
People gathered, hands folded, eyes wide.
“Such fortune!” they cried. “Let us taste and thank the heavens!”
But the temple priest frowned. “Fortune never comes without reason.”
A stray dog, starving, bit into one.
Moments later, it howled and collapsed.
The village grew silent.
A proud landlord said, “Bah! Just a dog. Weak things die of anything.”
That night, he sent his servant to pluck five fruits.
By dawn, both lay pale under the golden boughs.
The priest came with holy ash and whispered prayers.
The tree did not burn. Its fruit stayed golden.
A child asked, “Baba, why is something so beautiful so cruel?”
The priest replied, “Because sometimes, beauty is a trap laid by our own greed.”
Years passed. No one touched the tree.
Birds avoided it. Leaves fell, but fruits never rotted.
Travellers still stop and stare. Some even reach out.
But the wise ones always pull their hand back.
✨Moral: The greatest dangers wear the mask of desire — and speak the language of dreams.