A Parable of Three Clocks and Three Wives
I trust readers will not take it amiss that I submit to their attention a domestic 'parable.' In Germany around Carnival time there is an award for being none too serious, as its title goes "gegen den tierischen Ernst," against brutish seriousness.. On the other hand, "many a true word is spoken in jest." In Jewish circles anecdotes derived from the Gemara, folklore or just everyday experience make many a hard notion palatable and readily understood and the same must be true in many traditions. I have heard it asserted that one consequence of the strict monotheism of the Bible transposed the at times undignified squabbles among the gods and goddesses of Olympus to the human domestic sphere as when Rebecca arranged for her favourite son Jacob to gain a blessing that was the due of Esau. It is probably mothers-in-law who supply the butt of more jokes than is the case with other categories of humanity.
Abdul Aziz felt poorly and in case anything should happen to him, he called his son to his side. Hamid was a teenager and before long would seek a nice girl as his future wife. Abdul Aziz asked his son a question.
"Hamid, what do you see on the table?"
"Three clocks, father."
"That is so. I will tell you the reason why I bought these clocks. When I was a young man I became obsessed with time for I knew how important it was to be punctual. I bought a clock, the one you see on the left. I then thought that one clock was not enough, so to be twice as punctual as before a bought a second clock, the one on the right. Why not be even more punctual still? So I bought a third clock, the one in the middle. As time progressed, one clock became slow and another fast, but one always kept time perfectly. When I went by the fast one I arrived too early for meetings and prayers and wasted time hanging around twiddling my thumbs. If I went by the slow one, that was worse: I arrived too late and missed important appointments. If I went by the clock that kept time I was punctual for meetings and lost no time waiting around."
"So, one clock is all you need then,” Hamid said and look towards the door as though he wanted to be off.
"Now,” his father said. "What do you see hanging on that wall?"
"Three pictures, one of my dear mother and two of your wives who have gone."
"Correct, " his father affirmed. “ I need not tell you that the picture in the middle shows your mother! The picture on the left shows Fatima, a good lady with a very sharp tongue, always scolding me over petty things, never satisfied or at rest. "
Tearfully, Abdul Aziz added, "she had to go." She made no objection to our divorce. Her present husband actually likes being bossed around. Must be a glutton for punishment! Now the one on the right was Sarah. She took life very easy, too easy, in fact. She did not prepare my meals, clean the house, look after you elder sister or show proper respect. She went back to her parents after the divorce and now lounges around in their spacious dwelling all day. You see, I had been foolish enough to think that three wives would bring three times as much joy and pleasure, three times as much insight into the mysteries of womanhood, as one wife could bring. Your mother combines all virtues of womanhood. She tells home truths without acrimony, she does the housework diligently with a smile. I hardly need tell you that she makes a perfect mother. Go then, my son, seek all womanhood in one person, and you will save yourself all the sorrows that I have had to endure."
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