Once upon a time, there was a king who fell into a rage with his minister and imprisoned him atop a towering minaret. This punishment was akin to a torturous death sentence, as no food could be delivered to him, and escape was impossible from such a height. As he was taken to the minaret, onlookers noted that he appeared neither worried nor sorrowful; instead, he maintained his usual cheerful demeanor. His wife, tearful at their parting, asked him, 'Why are you so happy?'

He replied, 'If only a thin silk thread could reach me, I would be free. Is that too much to ask of you?'

His wife pondered deeply but could not conceive a way to send a silk thread to such a lofty place. In her desperation, she consulted a sage. The sage advised, 'Catch a beetle named Bhṛṅga. Tie a silk thread to its leg and place a drop of honey on its antennae, then release it towards the minaret.'

That very night, they followed the sage's instructions. The beetle, attracted by the scent of honey, climbed steadily upwards, ultimately delivering one end of the silk thread to the captive. This delicate thread became his lifeline. They then tied a thicker thread to it, followed by a rope, and finally a sturdy cord. Using this makeshift lifeline, he managed to escape his confinement.

Just as a ray of light is sufficient to reach the sun, it requires no one to deliver it; it is inherently present for all.