🐒 🐒 🐒 In Search of Truth

One man, tired of a world where any truth—upon closer inspection—turned out to be carefully masked deception, dedicated his life to the search for the single, unbreakable Truth. He found it in books, in the words of prophets, in the formulas of scientists, but as soon as he touched it, its core crumbled, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell. He continued his search until he arrived at the foot of an ancient temple.

On its steps sat three monkeys, carved from obsidian but looking absolutely alive. One covered its eyes with its palms, another—its ears, and the third—its mouth and nose. These creatures, having existed since the beginning of time, were considered the guardians of the Great Truth. But they themselves feared it: one preferred not to see it, another—not to hear it, and the third—not to reveal it.

Because of this fear, each formed its own, unique concept of Truth: the monkey with its eyes covered believed that Truth was something invisible, without form, a pure idea. The monkey with its ears covered was certain that Truth was something inaudible, silence between words, the background for sound. And the monkey with its mouth and nose covered believed that Truth was the unutterable, a secret that vanishes the moment it is spoken. Therefore, it covered not only its mouth with its hands, so as not to blab the Truth, but also its nose, for the monkey feared accidentally inhaling it and then, even unconsciously, giving it away.

"Which of you knows the Truth?" asked the seeker, his voice worn out by years of disappointment. "The one that does not crumble?"

The monkeys were silent, each immersed in its own concept of Truth.

"Yes, which one?" the seeker whispered to himself. "Or maybe, is it each one of you?"

A bitter, astonishing thought suddenly struck him: these monkeys were not merely avoiding the Truth; they were exercising their right to choose. Their "truth" was only their personal, intimate act of will, their own interpretation. And if that were the case, there were as many truths as there were people. Everyone who chose their own version was right in their own way, and yet everyone, from the perspective of others, was wrong. And within this multiplicity of choices hid the only truth: there is no absolute Truth, there are only personal interpretations, and everything in this world is relative.

The seeker spent years at the Temple, trying to understand: perhaps the Truth lay in their totality? In the paradox? He tried to combine the invisible with the inaudible, hoping to get the unutterable. He tried to force them to speak, to see, or to hear. But they were perfect embodiments of their choice. He realized that each of them held a fragment, but none held the whole. And he understood that he would never know the truth.

Accepting defeat, he stood up to leave and turned his back on the Temple.

And at that moment, in a perfect, synchronized movement, all three monkeys lowered their hands. They looked at him, listened to his departure, and finally spoke in unison, uttering a single word:

"You".

The seeker flinched and turned around. He looked at them, at their open, eyes full of bottomless wisdom, and suddenly realized that the true Truth was not in what he sought, nor in what they guarded, but in the act of the search itself. He himself, with his exhausted but unbroken will, was the only meaning of everything.

He was ready to accept this final, saving, all-encompassing Truth, but he stopped when he saw a thin, barely noticeable... smile stretch across the lips of the three monkeys, which was nothing more than the fourth, the most sophisticated mask of Lies, an empty shell without substance.