Shocking Story of The Prince and ‘The Princess’

A Tale of Self-Discovery

The Prince’s Sorrow

There was a grand and prosperous kingdom. It was ruled by a prince known throughout the land for his cheerful disposition. He was also known for his warm-hearted nature. He greeted each day with a smile and filled the palace with laughter. Life, for him, had always been bright and full of joy.

But one day, quite suddenly, the prince changed. His laughter fell silent, his smile disappeared, and a heavy shadow of sadness seemed to follow him wherever he went. The king and queen watched with growing concern. What could have caused such a sudden and deep change in their son?

The royal parents were deeply worried. They summoned their most trusted minister — a wise and perceptive man who shared a warm bond with the prince. “Find out what troubles our son,” the king urged him. “He confides in you freely. Please discover what lies beneath this sadness.”

The Minister’s Discovery

The minister sought out the prince and, with gentle patience, asked him what was weighing so heavily on his heart. The prince sighed deeply and finally confessed: “I have fallen in love.”

The minister smiled warmly. “But that is wonderful news! Why then, dear Prince, does love make you sad? Tell me who she is, and I shall speak to the king at once. We will arrange the marriage without delay.”

The prince shook his head slowly. “Alas,” he said with a mournful look, “I have only a portrait of her — a painting made when she was very young. I do not even know who she is or where she may be found.”

The minister remained calm and reassuring. “That is no obstacle at all. Show me the portrait, and I will make it my mission to find her.”

The prince led the minister deep into the palace storeroom, where old trunks and forgotten treasures lay gathering dust. In a far corner stood a large object draped in a thick cloth. The prince pulled the cloth away to reveal a beautiful painting — the delicate portrait of a young girl, painted with remarkable skill and grace.

The Burst of Laughter

The minister studied the painting for a long moment — and then burst into hearty, uncontrollable laughter. He laughed so hard that tears rolled down his cheeks. He could not seem to stop.

The prince stared at him, confused and a little offended. “Will you please tell me why you are laughing?” he demanded.

Wiping his eyes and composing himself, the minister finally spoke. “Dear boy,” he said gently, “this is a portrait of you. When you were very young, your mother directed a play in the palace. You were given the role of a princess. You were so charming and so beautiful in that costume that your mother, filled with delight, called upon a gifted artist to capture the moment. This painting has rested here ever since.”

He smiled kindly and added, “So tell me now — do you still wish to marry this girl? Or does it no longer seem quite so pressing?”

The prince stared at the painting, then at the minister — and then he too burst into laughter. The sadness that had gripped him for days dissolved in an instant, like mist in the morning sun.

The Deeper Meaning

The moment the prince realised that the object of his love was none other than himself, the spell was broken. The longing simply vanished. There was no longer anything to chase, no one to pine for. The illusion, once seen for what it was, lost all its power.

This charming little story carries within it a profound and timeless truth — one that lies at the very heart of Vedantic wisdom.

All the emotions we experience in this world — love and longing, hatred and fear, attraction and aversion — arise because we perceive others as separate from ourselves. We fall in love with what appears to be “out there.” We resent what seems to stand against us. We crave what we believe we do not have. But this sense of separation is itself the great illusion — what the ancient sages called Maya.

The Vedantic teaching, expressed most purely in the Mandukya Upanishad and the works of Adi Shankaracharya, declares with quiet certainty: there is only one Consciousness. It alone exists. What we call “the world” is not something separate from God or the Self — it is the Self appearing as the many, the way a single flame appears in a hundred mirrors. The mirrors differ; the light is one.

When this understanding genuinely dawns within us — not merely as an idea in the mind, but as a living realisation in the heart — all grasping and all aversion gently fall away, just as the prince’s sorrow dissolved the instant he saw the truth. There is no one left to hate. There is no one left to crave. There is only the Self — infinite, luminous, and forever at peace with itself.