A short square brick minaret with a cupola head stood alone on the ground. It hadn’t any staircase inside to reach to its top. Nor was anybody permitted to use a ladder from outside for the purpose. It wasn’t storeyed with doors and windows. Its top below the dome had a gallery that was open from one side, while from three sides it was closed by brick walls. In that gallery was placed and visible a magic wand by holding of which the holder was to get lifetime dominance over the others. A number of people queued up on the courtyard of the minaret to get to the magic wand by jumping up towards the top, with a prohibition on jumping the queue. A man who brought up the rear thought that he being the last, and the rules being against unfair reaching to the top by using outside ladder or jumping over, it wasn’t possible for him to reach to the target. So, his mind came in full whirl of malfunctioning, killing all people ahead of him in the line, piled their bodies with the wall of the minaret from base to its shaft for a ladder, climbed up to the top and controlled the magic wand in his hands. He got dominance over the others; but regretted deeply, casting his eyes down in shame, when he saw the cadavers of those who were in the line before him, made by him as his ladder for rising to the top just for dominance.
There was a poplar tree who was growing higher and higher, every time and every season, than all other trees in their nursery. The other trees were telling, requesting and advising him not to grow higher than normal and acceptable limits because wayward the height, greater the risks of fall of a tree whose trunk can’t sustain such a huge load of abnormal height against stormy winds that blow frequently in the nursery of poplar trees. But he erroneously thought he was in right direction, on right track, of gaining extra-height of extra-importance among all trees of the nursery. So, he heeded not what was being repeatedly told, requested and admonished to him by his fellow trees around who’d, however, maintained their heights within normal and acceptable limits. Thus, one day, when it was a storm and strong winds blew across the nursery, it shook all the trees whose normal and acceptable heights shielded them against the storm; but it was only he, that ever-growing-in-height-tree, the arrogant tree, who’d never, ever listened to the advice of the sincere and elder trees, who broke and fell down from the top on the ground with many cracks, cuts, bruises and injuries. The trees around, then, reminded him–the blown down tree–of his brainless obstinate arrogance and their wise adage to him: “those who don’t relent regret”.