Lust

In a certain place the fishermen were catching fish. A kite swooped down and snatched a fish. At the sight of the fish, about twenty crows chased the kite and made a great noise with their cawing.

Whichever way the kite flew with the fish, the crows followed it. The kite flew to the south and the crows followed it there. The kite flew to the north and still the crows followed after it. The kite went east and west, but with the same result. As the kite began to fly about in confusion, it tired itself out and let go of the fish in its mouth. The crows at once let the kite alone and flew after the fish. Thus relieved of its worries, the kite sat on the branch of a tree and thought, “That wretched fish was the root of all my troubles. I have now got rid of it and therefore I am at peace.”

As long as a man has the fish, that is, lusty desires, he must perform actions and consequently suffer from worry, anxiety and restlessness. No sooner does he renounce these lusty desires than his activities fall away and he enjoys peace of soul.

The kite cannot live without the fish, for it needs the fish to survive. But luckily for us, there is no compulsion. Lusty desires and suffering come bundled together in a take-it-or-leave-it package.

Lord Krishna tells us in the Bhagavad-gita 3.37:

“It is lust only, Arjuna, which is born of contact with the material mode of passion and later transformed into wrath, and which is the all-devouring sinful enemy of this world.”