A brahmin lay down to die — and a jackal began to speak: "How fortunate you are: you have a human body, and we all wish we could be like you. I have a thorn in my side I cannot pull out. Insects bite under my fur and I have nothing to remove them with — I have no hands. But you have hands, ten fingers. I scavenge for scraps, while you can grow food and cook what you like. I can do none of this — what to speak of being a human being among human beings." We notice our hands about as much as we notice air. The body is a yantra — a machine handed to us. The jackal looks at it from outside and cannot see why its owner lies there. "You are educated in the Vedas, you are a brahmin. How fortunate you are!"