In the days of yore, a disciple would strive to ask a question to the Guru. The answer wouldn't come easy. It had a value of its own and one had to work for it. Cut firewood, draw buckets of water, feed the cows, clean the Ashram… and then the disciple would get an answer, perhaps. When the answer came, it would be a word or two, not more. And it would be received with utmost gratitude. Then the disciple would chew on it, introspect, ponder over it, think deeply. And then the answer would take root within the mind, branch out in various directions, gain solidity and ground, flower into timeless wisdom.

That was the value of the question and the answer.

About eight seven years ago, I asked a question. It was the first question I ever asked. I was in a state of indecision and needed an answer. I wasn't interested in learning how to get an answer, I wanted the easy way out. I wanted the answer.

"Do what you have to do."

I got an answer but it wasn't what I wished to hear. In fact, it seemed to compound my confusion. I was not a happy disciple. I fretted about why everyone got simple answers to their questions while my answer only prompted more questions! This was not what I wanted.

In the last eight seven years, the answer has unraveled in my head. It has proven its worth time and again. It has changed shape and form, transformed my attitude, become wisdom. Believe it or not, I have not asked another question since.

Actually, I asked another question a year later. And I got an answer that was pretty straightforward in its direction and intent. The matter cleared up instantly in my head.