Bitterness is like swallowing poison and waiting for the other person to die.” Twice Dighavu lowered his up-raised sword poised to avenge his parents’ death. Then…

Brahmadatta awoke in a cold sweat.

“What’s the matter, Your Majesty?” inquired Dighavu.

“I had a terrible dream, a dream that haunts me and that I cannot get rid of. In it, I learn that Dighiti, my enemy, had a son named Dighavu, who is coming after me with his sword raised trying to kill me and avenge the death of his parents.”

Dighavu grabbed the king by his hair and yanked his head back onto the ground. With his right hand, he grabbed his sword and raised it. “I am Dighavu,” he snarled,” I will kill you and avenge my parents’ death.”

For a moment, Brahmadatta looked uncomprehensively at the young man he had grown to trust–but then he saw the pain in Dighavu’s eyes, heard the hatred in his voice, and felt the angry strength of his grip.

“Please do not kill me,” he begged. “Grant me my life.”

Dighavu stared at him. “No you foolish king, don’t you understand? It is you who must grant me my life. For men can forgive those who hurt them, but they cannot forgive those they hurt. I will always be a reminder to you of your wrongdoing. You will see me as a threat to your peace of mind and your physical safety. You will seek to kill me so that you do not have to face me. No, my king, it is you who must grant me my life.”

Next time: Reconciliation