I have occasionally seen the following short story in persian literature but to be honest I have been too lazy to find out its origin.
It somehow reflects how we do interpret things around ourselves. Different people may interpret it differently, though.
"A bird was flying north, but the weather was too cold so that it froze and fell in a field. A cow came and dropped some dung on him. It lay there worm and happy, began to sing for joy. A passing fox discovered the bird, dug it out and ate him.
So not everyone who shits on you is your enemy. More importantly, not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend, and that when you are in deep shit, it's best to keep your mouth shut."
Isn't that somehow the story of our country over the past century. A dictator shitted on it, that was worm enough to make it singing. Then it was discovered by Mullahs and is eaten by the islamic dictatorship.
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