Sticks and nails.

When I was a kid, I got a carton full of wood sticks and nails. 

I spent my childhood till now to create a perfect box out of it. 

Now, there is a box in front of me. I created it. I am its master. 

It is perfect from each side, from each corner. 

I start bringing in things to fit it. Some fit, some do not. 

I try putting in clothes, folded, they all settle. Unfolded, they all are jumbled, making the box look unclean. 

I try putting in water, but it recedes through the gaps in the box.

I try putting in sand, but gradually it recedes through. 

Crazily, I try putting in all my stuff at once. 

Frustrated, I blame the things not fitting in. 

The box is the illusion of reality I had created for myself. 

My fears of experiencing everything perfect made me obsess with the box. 

I focused on fitting everything in that box. 

I centered my life on that box. 

Happiness equated to whatever could fit in that box. 

That box became my identity. 

I felt happy and related to what could fix in it. 

I felt unhappy, depressed and dejected when things could not fit in. 

Before long, I began feeling and thinking on behalf of the box. 

Became defensive of it. 

Then one day, I was taken away. The box was dismantled and given to another kid to play. 

The box is my illusion, my unreal identity. 

As children, we get wooden sticks and nails to play.

We end up making boxes and carrying them around as ourselves. 

No. 

There is no box. 

Stop skewing reality and deciding what to put in the box to feel the happiness. 

The box doesn't feel. 

The box doesn't exist. 

Feel the pain of breaking the box before you are taken away and the box dismantled. 

That which within you does not feel threatened

That which within you does not feel insecure

That which within you remains calm 

That is you through Him. That is you who knows The Truth, The Reality. 

That is you who doesn't need a box outside to accept and reject. 

Here is a box in front of me. 

Its painful to think of its nonexistence. 

I blink and it disappears. 

I feel Myself Real. 

There is a vessel

There is a vessel. A wooden beautiful vessel. 

 It is filled with water. To the brim. 

The Sunshine shines back in water reflection illuminating the room. 

Few moments later, the water from the vessel is drained away. 

It is now filled with grass. To the brim.

The subtle fragrance of the grass freshens the room. 

Few moments later, the vessel is emptied of the grass. 

It is now filled with pebbles. To the brim. 

The pebbles mark the outline, standing higher than the brim of the vessel, as if asserting their existence across the room. 

Few moments later, the pebbles from the vessel are taken away. 

All along, the vessel's capacity does not change. The vacuum does not change. The vessel remains. The contents of the vessel change. 

We are the vessel. The contents are our circumstances. Each moment, every second, ever changing. 

All along, our capacity to encompass our circumstances does not change. The capacity within has been created to incorporate, encompass, welcome and host what comes. 

Where does He live then? He doesn't live in the capacity created. 

The wooden beautiful vessel is created out of wood. He is the One who has created the vessel. 

Just as the vessel is what it is because of the wood. We are what we are through Him. 

Our body is the knots and bolts and designs on the wooden vessel. Our soul is the strength of the vessel. 

There is a vessel. A wooden beautiful vessel. 

"Impatient Optimists"

So, I stumbled across a blog - www.writermehdi.blogspot.com with just one entry. Nothing special. Just another one expressing herself on digital. However, given the fact that she is 15, her thoughts, expressed in a raw manner seemed quite different for the girl of her age. Nope, not one of those digital kids who just upload fancy book pictures with fancy quotes. 

Today, I feel there are two kinds of kids in this world. 

one whose parents spend more time marketing their kid's creme educational upbringing. 

And another whose parents spend time helping their kid through primary school. 

one who, as a kid reads not because he/she likes to read but because it is fashionable to. 

and another who reads unknowingly. unaware of his/her own passion and addiction to reading. 

one who needs a digital gadget to read. 

and another who reads even from the torn pages of oil stained samosa packets. 

one who buys the best stationary to express in the most eloquent manner. 

and another who is always scolded for reading what is not the main text. 

one who reads and repeats. 

and another who reads and struggles to repeat the same text. 

one who gets good marks because of beautiful handwriting. 

and another who is not always appreciated for letting his/her hand wander at the speed of his/her brain thinking. 

one who is always so finely right, so wonderfully apt with the rules of the language. 

and another who always forget the spelling of neighbor, or a coma there and a full stop here. 

one who always has answers.

another who always has questions. 

one who speaks and then thinks. 

another who doesn't speak, because he/she is busy reading. 

one who grows up to be repeater. 

another who grows up to be a thinker. 

one who thinks and act just his/her age.

another who thinks and acts ahead of his/her time. 

one who grows up often to be another of 7 billion. 

another who grows up to be the one who rest of 7 billion look at. 

one who desperately searches his/her phone & relationships for his/her identity. 

another who grows up making his/her own identity. 

It is always a pleasure meeting the second kid. Always a pleasure. These are the "impatient optimists" of the future who don't even realize how much 7 billion of us need them. 

Zartosht & Shervin

Once upon a time, there lived two friends in a village not so far away.

Zartosht and Shervin. Both were eleven year old young kids who attended nearby small village school every day. They usually sat next to each other. The villagers were fascinated by their friendship given the polarized nature of each.

Zartosht was a very rational, rough kid. He was blunt and to the point. Everybody speculated that he had the natural ability to become a big city businessman one day. At the mere age of 11, he had already been able to secure a few deals. He would put his skills to use and earn money in return from his little gang of friends. If there was someone clever, it was definitely him.

Shervin on the other hand was a very polite, silent and a soft kid. He didn't quite like being blunt. He didn't know how to think in terms of profit and gain. For him, everything was connected in the realm that even he could not understand. It wasn't thus surprising that he didn't ever quite get into the business dealing stuff with his friends.

However, despite their differences, Shervin and Zartosht were good friends. Shervin would often warn Zartosht about his dealings, telling him to tone down his cleverness and calculations a bit.

One day, their teacher came in the classroom and introduced an old guy. The old fragile 70 year old guy was the new replacement for their class. He would now be heading all their classes and assignments, informed the former teacher.

The old guy had a very calm appearance with a slight smile. Everyone seemed intrigued by his outlook.

First day of his class, he told everyone that they will have a week long test. In the test, the kids are required to go to the nearby market and purchase a few apples daily. Whoever sustains the relationship with the vendor shall win.

The next day, Zartosht immediately sprang to action. Given his natural traits of business dealing, he was confident in winning the little test. The first day, apply vendor offered him 2 apples for 10 dinars. He was really happy. He bought them and came home. The same episode repeated with Shervin.

Both came home and compared their test cards.
Zartosht: 2 apples for 10 dinars.
Shervin: 2 apples for 10 dinars.

The following day, the apple vendor seemed grumpy. He was selling way above the normal rate. Zartosht wasn't happy, he ended up arguing with him. The vendor offered him a closed deal finally. Zartoshst hence was forced to buy 1 apple for 10 dinars. He was really frustrated. Shervin, on the other hand, did not argue with the vendor. So the vendor offered him an apple for 7 dinars.

Both came home and compared their test cards.
Zartosht: 1 apple for 10 dinars.
Shervin:  1 apple for 7 dinars.

Days went by, gradually, the vendor was getting grumpier. Zartosht couldn't take his attitude. He didn't like how he was losing on his profit. While Shervin remained patient. Shervin didn't quite like the vendor's attitude either, but he remained quiet.

Finally, one day, frustrated, Zartosht ended up fighting with Shervin. He couldn't understand why Shervin was not reacting, not doing anything about it. Shervin just smiled back, he calmed Zartosht down and told him to focus less on his profit. Zartosht...just couldn't take it.

On the final day, Zartosht and the vendor refused to even acknowledge each other.

In the class, Zartosht stood up, excitedly like a little kid ready with his complain. He complained and whined about the vendor to the old teacher. The old teacher simply smiled.

Everyone counted their apples and profits and spoke of their experiences.

The old guy then silenced the class and started, "My dear children, hope you enjoyed the game. While as it may have been tempting to earn a profit from the game, the idea was never the profit. The idea was simply and merely to test if you can sustain the relationship with the vendor or not. He was deliberately grumpy to discourage you. The vendor spoke well of Shervin. He seemed fond of Shervin."

Despite cleverness and wit, Zartosht had lost. Not because he did not have the important skills, but because he was too engrossed in using those skills to listen to the old man carefully.

Zartosht is our brain. Shervin is our heart. The apple vendor is the world.

If we put the old man in there first, if we put just One Voice in their First, the rest becomes easy.

He may ask us to do things, may ask us to be with the world when the world may or may not want us, or the world may even seem distracted from what we have to offer. Its just the world. It is that way.

He doesn't want us to just secure profits from the world. He wants us to sustain the relationship with it. Calculations of the brain can and will hinder the process. It is only the Heart with His direction that perhaps knows. We all would end up frustrated, disappointed if we start calculating the profits and the losses we make from this world. We'd be guilty or proud in comparing how we have more or they have less.

We'd just not win, not because we don't know how to, but because it is not about winning gains or running after, its about sustaining relationship with the world.

Only.

I am sitting in the car, we are going to some relative's place for dinner. It is dark outside. I notice the funny lines on the billboards, bored, I move to noticing the lamp posts, soon they disappear and lush trees appear in sight looking dark and scary in the night.

 I notice them for a while and then look up. All along, there is just one thing since the start of my journey from home till now on the road that has remained with me. The moon smiles back. It seems to have been following me since the moment I left home. I spoke to the moon before dozing off. I woke up, we were still on the motorway, the moon still there. I felt we would win and the moon would be left behind. Didn't happen either. I am still on the road. Moon remains my point of reference. My guide. My solace. People sitting in the front of the car change. People sitting next to me change. People outside, the boards, the trees, the areas, the lamp posts everything changes. What doesn't change is the Moon.

From parents to friends to crushes to our partners. We are always in search of filling our devoid. It is like we hold ourselves tight in the world, desperately looking for someone/something to empty ourselves on. To rely on. We are frustratingly looking for that feeling that once that moon gave to us every time we looked at it as a child from the backseat of our car on the motorway. 

And when just about everyone seems to fail at letting us be dependent on them, we get impatient. In our desperate outward attempt to fill the inward void, we start trading our emptiness. In search for the Moon, we start calling everyone the moon. We start making deals of our voids. You take care of me, I'll take care of you. We get into friendships, we get into substance abuse, we get into relationships - all simply out of attempts to feel like that little kid who had the moon all along his journey. 

We need to stop looking for the moon in people like you and me. Stop satisfying our devoid with temporary illusions of Perfection. Stop driving our pain away with opium addictions of people, things and places. 

We need to stop looking around and simply look up. 

He stands between me and me. 

Within Me. Of Him who knows me more than myself. 

He runs through me, for me, with me, outside of me. 

He stands between me and you. 

When you hurt me, I turn to Him. 

When I feel the need of dependence for you, I turn to Him. 

When I feel you're happy, I turn to Him. 

When I feel you're sad, I turn to Him. 

When you need me, I am here because He is with me. 

All along, I am being to you what He is to me. As just another human with needs, we need to learn to be the child who looks up to the Moon that Lasts. We need to be the child that empties the heart to the Moon. He is like that moon that made us smile and kept us accompanied through our journey as a child.

He is the Utmost Refuge. The Reference Point. The Focal Point. 

He gives us to give the world.
So that, when the world comes stumbling upon to you, you give them of everything you have while not expecting the same in return. For your expectations, your peace, your mundane daily solace lies with Him. you tell Him and He'll do the rest for you as He has been doing. You just be and let Him Be.

Battle of Valentines.

"Haha, you know what, I don't blame us man. Come on, all we have seen/heard since childhood is just battles. Remember our Islamiyet Olevels paper? Just a few bunch of battles that helped us spread this faith? We love battles. Except for the one within, we love all sorts of battles outside."

There is a field. Field where we position. Position ourselves, our beliefs, our customs, our identities, our list of hate, our list of love, what we promote as hate and what we promote as love.

If we are expressing our opinion, our thoughts about anything we are willingly and intentionally choosing to be positioned in the field. By expressing, we are maturely taking the decision to become the ambassadors of what we are saying. Expression comes with responsibility. Whether you express in a group of friends over coffee or in a conference.

Despite the world telling you otherwise, you are being judged and positioned in the minds of other people. Constantly. Every moment. Our attempts to fake a certain identity doesn't last long. Hence, in this field, when we express, whatever we express, we are cautiously choosing to establish an ideology or support an existing one.

When somebody points at hijab and asks if I am doing so out of oppression, I don't defend the terrorists who sold that impression to the world. But yes, I use the opportunity to position my stance against it. It is like the world giving you a minute to make/break/reinforce their current image of my faith.

I was clicking pictures at the Diwali festival on Trafalgar Square few months back when I was stopped by an old lady. She tapped on my shoulder and gestured towards my scarf.

"Are you wearing this because its cold?" She asked. Fragile, old 70 something lady dressed in long skirt.
"No." I smiled.
"Are you a Muslim?" She then asked.
"Yes" I responded, feeling a bit uneasy.
Before I knew it, she hugged me tight and happily said "Enjoy my child. God bless you! I love muslims who celebrate diwali with us!"
Out of excitement and surprise, I ended up sharing all my fascinations with festivals, celebrations and happiness.

And that is when I realized. Those three minutes, how crucial were those moments to define my stance, to express who I am and where I stem from.

We all get such moments. To pierce through the wrong stereotypes attached with our identity. Be it an identity as a woman. Be it an identity as a girl clad in scarf. Be it an identity as a mere student.

While scrolling through the newsfeed and recalling messages from last year, I am amused at the amount of time/energy we spend at defending religion against 14th February.

Not celebrating it out of personal choice is one thing. Not celebrating it, taking out the sword of Religion and then preaching the rest not to is another.

If you ever have to see the insecurity and epitome of defense mechanism in action, then witness the ambassadors who suddenly remember to propagate what is right and wrong exactly and precisely on the day when the world wants to celebrate something.

Few years back, somebody rightly pointed out. We are the conspiracy theory. We hate when we are marginalized and labelled as terrorists, as oppressed ladies behind the veil, as members of the religion that spreads hatred. Lets be honest.

Why wouldn't you say that about a bunch of confused ambassadors (every single one of us) when we love being sadists and harming ourselves? We hardly let go of instances to prove otherwise anyway.

Be it a Zionist lobby, a conspiracy theory from Mars or another attempt by some evil power to eradicate our expression, if we are leveraging "Valentines Day" to spread any message that carries even a slightest resemblance to being inferred that our religion is a religion of "hatred"...

I repeat.  if we are leveraging "Valentines Day" to spread any message that carries even a slightest resemblance to being inferred that our religion is a religion of "hatred"...

If we are using the name of God and His Obligations to satisfy our egos in arguments against "Valentines Day" then know well, we are the conspiracy theory.

Here is a day, like many others celebrated, where the world is giving you an absolute opportunity to prove how your Religion propagates Love. Actually, they are not even asking us, but nevertheless, considering how we spring into action against the day, it has yet again helped to set eyes on how YOU and I will react to it every year. Its a fragile situation where you and I can make or break the image.

I don't get it why can't this day be used more sensibly? I am yet to find a teaching where God and this faith ever told me that it is wrong to smile, spread smile, buy/share flowers, express intimacy with my loved ones.

If we or part of us are bypassing obligations set by the Faith then it is not the Valentines Day that is wrong. Don't blame satanic forces of St. Valentines. Let's blame ourselves, our weak will power, our dearth of understanding God and His message, our lack of inherent ability to express/spread Love in the right way.

If for some, the day means love equally sex and lust; then I don't get how it is eradicating the other definition of Love being something far more honorable. So much so, that we feel the need to defend our faith against it. As if, the faith would expire on the eve of 14th February if we don't express our hatred for it.

If some of us are not avid fans of the day, then let it be. Don't drag in religion to prove what you don't want to be a part of. Stop selling religion and God.

Right to respectfully disagree and co exist peacefully is different from trying to legitimize your "intolerance"/ "eradication" of others' customs.

Start using your moments wisely to express what you advocate...responsibly. 

Then which of His blessings will you deny?

- I don't deserve all the good things in life. Do I?
Sure you do. Why not?
- Because I am far less deserving than all the others out there.
And what makes you think He is giving you more while not blessing the more deserving?
- Because that is what I see when I look around.
The problem with us is, we fidget our pockets, take out the guilt lens, wear it and view the world according to it. The One that you repent to feeling guilty is the One who is also Just. When being guilty for all the good things in life, while feeling undeserving of His blessings, you are doubting His Grandeur.

How do we then accept His Favors?

First by correcting the question in our mind. It is not His favors. Calling them "favors" is by default assuming that we can repay those good things. "favors" can be repaid or at least tried to be repaid. Can you ever? We can never. Those are not His Favors. They are His Blessings. We perhaps are not eligible for good things if we limit His Kingdom to Justice. But beyond just being Just, He is Grand. He is Generous. He is Merciful.
How do you then expect Him to give you any less in your life?

He blesses you with pain, with anguish, with yearning to make you more confident in Love. He blesses you with good things and a sensitivity to sense how blessed you are. Not because He wants you to feel guilty. But perhaps because He wants you to spread your blessings. You feeling blessed right now? Go hug somebody. Share the vibe. Give somebody hope. Say a little prayer for them. Its called Magic.

So how we then show Gratitude towards His Blessings?
By trusting Him. By accepting His gift.
By making the Blessings work for you in life.
By serving the Blessings.
By being the Magic through His Blessings.
By being who He wants you to be.
By fulfilling the reason why He blessed you.


By simply, being Blessed and praying the same for the rest.