Hunger lesson

To shed down a few calories that I had accumulated from my last vacation to India few weeks back, seems to be a Herculean task. When all others at home enjoy a sumptuous meal, I did not want to treat my stomach callously. So I keep feeding myself with minimum low calorie stuff. I get up everyday to just fight with my weakness - sweets! When will I stop fancying these sugary substances? I wish the small patch inside the mouth remains dry until I exhaust my work out schedule if not forever.

At this juncture, I suddenly was reminded about the millions of hungry people around the world dieing out of starvation every day. Is eating a little lesser than normal that painful when compared to those who are desperate for food? Is controlling my appetite an extremely difficult task when millions of little children survive with one incomplete or no meal per day? I was also reminded of the situation in Haiti. When people turn extremely hungry, there are no differences of any kind among them. They are just ‘hungry’ people. No man’s hunger is superior or inferior when compared to others’. When the need for food is predominantly present, their mind can never regulate them to discipline and righteousness. They just fall a prey to the place where food is. It takes determination to willfully go without food and yet remain with all the senses intact. Only great people can do that.

One such person is my guitar master. A Christian by birth, he willfully sacrificed his meal schedules for the sake of his fellow Muslim colleagues during the holy month of Ramadan. When I came to know of it initially, I was really shocked. I have been in the Gulf for nearly 10 years now and not once have I tried fasting along with the population during that time but this gentleman has been doing it for the past 5 years without any coercion. When I asked him the reason and intention behind it, he just humbly said that when his brothers are not in a position to have food, he would as well do the same and be a part of them. It should be noticed here that there have been no changes in his work timings during that period just because he was fasting. Only Muslims are given some relaxation in their work timings. But still he appeared as fresh as ever all through the period and I became aware of his deeds just few days before Eid.

When we are left with no other choice, then it is a different story but when we have the opportunity but still voluntarily refrain from doing something, is not an act done by all. Here I learnt that joy or distress of others can only be understood when we consciously and willfully step into their shoes. Once we do so, we will never be able to forget the pain or joy that we experienced out of it. That in turn will help us view, understand and love all equally.

Shadows of the Dark

I am being followed and I am sensitive to it. It is irritating but inevitable. Neither can I hide nor can I escape. From the moment I wake up it stays with me with its ugly amorphous form. It is worse than a shadow since it follows me even at night. It makes me more conscious though others cannot see it. It is a nasty feeling to see it always beside me.

I sat down and contemplated to find out how and when it began; more so when did I evidently began realizing its presence. I understood that it all started the moment I lost my innocence, the moment I gave a fake smile, the moment I spoke untruth, the moment I fell as a victim to flattery, the moment I lost trust in others, the moment I formed opinions…….The list is endless. I realized it following me very recently when I finished my assignment of reviewing myself.

What could be the connection? There is a subtle link as scriptures always quoted. The nebulous substance that followed me is nothing but the results of my own actions. What can I do to get rid of this stuff? There is not much I can do about it. In the equation of life, two minus signs does not become a plus. Hats off to Him for His constant vigil over every act of the universe! The most interesting part here is that, though I am just a speck in this massive cosmos, I am also being watched. Shouldn’t I call myself blessed? And the good news is that we all are!

When I can notice the shadows of my past cruising around me, why can’t I notice the splendour of His creation encircling me? It is now time to act genuine by throwing away the cases of artificiality and stepping into the realms of integrity. What cannot be fixed can only be thrown. So let me begin my journey to gaze at the brilliance of the movement of every atom of the universe instead of concentrating on silly pleasures. Let me watch every step of mine before He does so that the shadows of my dark don’t get too heavy.

Soul connections?

It was the first time I ever met her. She was just learning to walk with the help of her Mother on the pavement. She took little steps with her tiny feet that often lost balance and resulted in a big fall. Her diapers made her fall appear less dangerous. I adored her innocence and purity. Her very appearance brought an instant smile on my face. I just felt like lifting her and planting a sweet kiss on her cheeks. It was hard to ignore her as I passed her on the road. So I just waved at her and walked. But she found something else interesting in me. She took fast steps to match my speed and fell down as a result. Thanks to her Mother who made her feel better after the fall. But she did not stop. She continued marching towards me. I thought that it might be the key chain in my hand that attracted her because I had nothing else in my hand. But no! It was not that. She lifted her hands instructing me to lift her. I did it immediately as I always wanted to do that to her. She settled comfortably in me laying her little head on my shoulders. She then closed her eyes and began singing a soft song in her language with her mouth unopened. I simply did not understand what was going on. She then opened her eyes and looked at me and played with the lace of my dress. She smiled at me again and again. She brought in some joy unknowingly. I felt divine as I held her in my arms. Her Mother made several attempts to take her away from me but she just wouldn’t listen. She stayed with me as though she always belonged to me. She gave me the same feeling too as long as she was with me. How I wished to carry the little girl to my house and exchanging words of silent songs! But reality is harsh. Her Mother had to take some hard steps to take her away from me. Both of us felt the pain. The little girl reacted to the pain of separation by a loud cry and I couldn’t.

Showers of Blessings

There shall be showers of blessings
This is the promise of love
There shall be seasons refreshing
Sent from the Saviour above

Showers! Showers of blessings
Showers of blessings we plead
Mercy drops round us are falling
But for the showers we plead

There shall be showers of blessings
Oh that today they might fall
Now as to God we are confessing
Now as on Jesus we call

Showers! Showers of blessings
Showers of blessings we plead
Mercy drops round us are falling
But for the showers we plead

This was one of the prayer songs we used to sing while at school. I suddenly remembered this song and tried to recollect the lyrics. I missed a line and hence called my sister to help me fill in the blank line. She helped me locate the lost words. I then sat down at home in a divine mood with nobody around to snatch my peace. I sang this song aloud as we used to at school. I sang in the same tone and manner my teacher had taught me. Surprisingly tears rolled down my cheek. I was stunned. I sang it again. Tears continued to flow. I think when I truly understood the meaning of the lyrics and meant them as I sang, tears resulted.

I am thirsty for more blessings. I am now waiting for torrential downpour of His divine grace to sink me into a flood of His mercy. God! Bless me with Thy grace.

Qualification Vs. Experience

The tyranny of qualification has jettisoned the worth of experience. This is undisputedly a debatable topic though my stance is already clear as to which side my favouritism rests. I have reasons to say so.

I happened to accompany my Father, who is a garden freak, to a nursery. It is apt to mention here that I am not a person who fancy gardening. I hardly know the fundamentals of gardening and I used to find innocuous reasons not to have a garden at home. Mosquitoes in India often conspire to discuss their new proposals and targets only in gardens. That being my primary rationale, not having a garden was purely justifiable for me. But gardening is my Father’s passionate hobby in which I did not want to pry upon any more.

The nursery we went to was much beyond my expectations. It was massive and also very beautifully maintained. As soon as we entered, a lady attended to our needs. She was tall, dark, thin, country bred, keen, loquacious and extremely professional. Though her appearance exuded traces of illiteracy, her knowledge truly fascinated me.

My Father had lots of queries on each variety of plants to which she gave pertinent answers without an iota of ambiguity. She had the details of all the species of shrubs, bushes, creepers, crotons and what not lying there. She knew its botanical name, the amount of sunlight it requires, the season when it flowers, fertilizers necessary for its growth, maintenance technique and its price. The only problem that I noticed in her was lack of qualification.

There were thousands of varieties of plants there and she had information on all of them. There was one particular variety of plant that had beautifully bloomed in different colours and captured my attention. On noticing my deep adoration for the plant, she explained to me about it. She told me that it was Gerbera and also provided me more details about the plant. I came home and checked in the internet about the plant and they matched well with all the details that she had furnished. She had indirectly convinced me clearing my hidden belief by explaining that the plants that she sold to us will not attract mosquitoes.

The contour of qualification has transgressed the verve of the indigent legion. I am sure that the lady would not have taken refuge under the cover of a school roof even on a rainy day. To that extent education proved to be an alien to her but for the purpose of survival, she had fully equipped her with all that she has to know. She has the knowledge of an agricultural university professor but not the qualification. Despite having the knowledge, she is forced to work for a pay that would hardly meet her demands. The worst part is that she is not aware of the huge difference in the pay scale between a professor and her. What a qualification could fetch, experience cannot.

How can this be justified? This lady is one among millions who work for peanuts unaware of their own worth. Qualification accompanied by experience is welcome but experience alone will not suffice. What a pitiable situation is this? A piece of paper attesting a person’s knowledge in a particular field holds more value unmindful of how it was obtained. I am not sure how this problem can be resolved but I am sure there could be a way out.

Laud the living

One among the calamities that arise without a premonition is death. In the normal course, on such happening, the news get spread like rapid fire and very soon assemblies of people get gathered and mourn the loss of such people irrespective of the relationship they shared with the dead. The most inscrutable thing is when we see people who always had an antagonism towards the person when alive, giving a peroration on the rich dogmas the dead had when he was alive. Isn’t this paradoxical? In other words, a person is glorified only after his death. One’s ego doesn’t permit to give credit to them when in flesh and blood.

According to our custom, it is considered inappropriate to talk bad about a dead person even if the person had actually been so. Is that the reason why people find it blatantly suitable to spit venom on a living person? Can’t those men unite to maintain the same decorum when the person is alive? Should one die to receive praises? Does it also mean that a living man becomes ineligible to be applauded? This is one part of the argument.

On the other hand, I have noted that simple gestures of love and care gets puffed up when thought of after a person’s death. I have also observed that people claim to be intolerably in love with the dead person to that extent that they assume that they would have maintained the same love and care (sometimes even more) if the person had escaped death. I am a living example for that. I often think that I would have been a better grand daughter to my grand mother who passed away long back; I assumed that I would have been one great icon of true friendship towards my friend who died few months back. I get such feelings just because they are dead and gone. These are all fleeting thoughts that cross our capricious minds. Aren’t they? We are “WE” always – the ‘constant’ “WE”!

Wide across I see a crescendo in the inexorable mass marching in unison with filthy pride. With self importance as the foundation, they construct a huge edifice of vacuum and believe it to be something. They live in a false world and invite the attention of like minded folks and form a huge committee to harangue the rest of the population. I am not a perfectionist but I am glad that I do not fall into such category of people who ridicule people and also shamelessly utter words of appreciation on their death. Such people are plague to this society.

I have personally witnessed people suffering from the endless torture of guilt on many occasions that make them go through critical episodes of depression and mental disorder. For some, it is quite natural to recollect occurrences of the past and contemplate on the mistakes that one might have committed. Thus to ensure a love filled, guilt free life, I feel that there are some tips to be kept in mind -

- Every individual is entitled to be respected from the moment we become aware he exists
- Every act that deserves appreciation necessarily needs to be valued with candour
- A cordial relationship needs to be maintained with all without any bias
- Simple signs of love and care need to be experientially enjoyed and adored
- We should always remember that we have no right to hurt or humiliate others
- Our ego should be less fed

Life is as precious to others as it is to us. Then why not esteem the presence of the others when they are right in front of us rather than thinking about their greatness after they vanish to the world of oblivion?

Sighs of my lonely mind

It was a brisk morning. I was tempted to look at the lawn through the window. The lawn surrounding our house turned lifeless a couple of weeks ago. The maintenance guys began working on it since then. So I made it a habit to look at the development everyday. It is indeed stunning to look at the improvement everyday. The dry leaves are completely chopped off. They are injecting some medicines I believe that gives colour and luster to the grass. They water it, mow it and take very good care of it all day through. It is reacting well to the treatment and it is bound to gain life and shine very soon.

This made me think for a while. There is a way to tame everything in this world. The only condition is that we should ‘listen’ and ‘respond’. When in a desert like Abu Dhabi, there can be lots of greenery around, what more hope do I need that my life can also be as green as a fertile garden!

The trees listen and respond to the wind and gives breeze to all.
The water responds to the wind and flows gently.
The birds respond to the first ray of morning sunshine and wake us up.

But certain things about men are puzzling. When the other creations of God listen and respond systematically, human beings fail to do it miserably. There is nothing on this earth to alter the flow of a man’s thoughts or behaviour. He acts as per his whim.

Why is it impossible to tame our thoughts? The speed at which our thoughts travel is amazing. Nothing created by nature can match its speed. There is no medicine to prevent it. There is no instrument to measure it. There is no way to control it or stop it. Are we not becoming a slave to our own thoughts? Are our thoughts not meandering over us? Aren’t we becoming weak and dependant? Our thoughts have become our masters and we, its slaves. It is neither listening nor responding. It is taking me to dreamy state and is holding me there for hours together! Helpless me!!