There was a man who came to the Lord Shantih beseeching him to cure his ills. “And what ills do you have?” Lord Shantih asked. “My stomach pains me when I eat too much,” the man said. “My throat is parched when I grow thirsty, and my back aches when I spend the day working in the fields.” “These are the complaints of life,” Lord Shantih told him. “Only death can cure you.” The man cursed Lord Shantih and left in an angry mood, grumbling to his companions. “That man,” Lord Shantih said, “will find his tomb a trifle too cold for his taste.”