Disabled People & Special Humans

According to our faith, we have been sent into this world just like other creatures. The only difference being, we have the most prestigious title. Psychologically, physically and in any other way, we are far better than the species we share our planet with. In fact, one theory goes suggesting that we have been created with a potential to attain further perfection, while the rest of the creatures have been created in the form in which they generally die. 

It bestows a huge responsibility then, on the humans to contribute to evolution, perform beyond existing, expand horizons of capability and attain perfection. Interestingly, every moment, every second of the day offers us that opportunity. It is hence our prime role and responsibility in this world to contribute in any way we can. 

Most often, we grow up surrounded with humans with similar physical and psychological attributes. As young kids in school, anyone with slow learning ability was an immediate highlight of the class. An outlier. Similarly, any behavioural difference, whatsoever, was automatically pointed out. Such a human's inability to conduct social interactions like others was stereotyped. He was cut out from the "normal groups". 

We all grow up in such an environment. Naturally then, schools for special humans sprung up, catering to their special needs in special ways. We, however, the "normal" people keep away. As part of school societies, we then visit such schools/centres as field visits just like to any other visit to research lab or anomaly. Something that is not part of us. 

Not matter how hard we try, we remain different. And then, when given the chance to interact and come closer to these Special Humans, we fail. We try hard at knowing how to react and interact. Yet, we fail. We just look at them, blankly covered up in formal, anxious cautious smiles; while they just smile back; unaware of our disability to communicate with them. 

God gives us opportunity after opportunity to believe in them and help them attain perfection. In reality, He is giving us an opportunity to attain our own perfection through them. He is giving us an opportunity to know Him through His Special Humans. 

And while the humanity is busy discovering His miracles in the normalcy of Life, He hides His astounding Miracles in His Special Humans. 

And while we create special schools and places for them, while we isolate ourselves from interacting with them, while we hush them away behind the confines of excuses and walls, They wait. Patiently. For us to Discover the Gifts they have been sent with. 

They wait to narrate us the Miracles God has whispered to them. Their Souls wait to help us attain Perfection. 

While the activists' community fights every year for their rights, for the adjectives used to describe them, They just smile and continue being who they are. While we delve into making up for our materialistic and apparent shortcomings, They make us realize the Beauty of being and performing as they are and who they are. 

Look in their eyes for longer than a moment and it hits us. The Power, the Majesty, the Tales from the Absolute World. 

While trying to interact with them, we realize our own disability and disconnect. We realize, it is not them who are disabled. It is us. For they are Special Humans with Special ways of making us connect with Him. We first isolate them to make us forget our own disabilities and then, as disabled people we visit them to feel Human. 

They don't need us. We do. 

And then, We win :)

Once upon a time, there was a man, Mr. Ali, known for his justice in all aspects of life. He was consulted by those around him for every single problem. He was the prime example of how to lead a life with best of everything while attaining human perfection. 

One of his most talked about art was his war skills. He was the master for confronting enemies upfront, battling the toughest of battles and never running away from the ground. Despite fighting him, the enemy as well acknowledged and praised his art. 

There was one particular thing which astounded his men, his army and his enemies alike. His sword was extremely sharp, quick and responsive. On the other hand, he rarely paid attention to training his horse for speed. His horse ran fast indeed, but not as fast as his sword fought the enemies.  

Since it was a common practice to focus on taming the horse as the best runner, the man seemed like an outlier. Curious and endlessly inquisitive about the wisdom behind it, one of his men once asked him. "Why Sir, is it that your sword is so sharp, so quick but your horse is of no match to its speed?". 

The man smiled and responded, "Because high speed horse will only aid me in either running away from the battle ground or running toward the war booty. Both of which, I don't believe in. I like meeting my enemy upfront, fighting the battle till the end. I don't believe in walking away. And for that, I need to focus on making my sword sharp. Nor my horse run faster,"

We all are placed in battlegrounds often. Some we win. Some we lose. And some, we continue fighting till the end. It is like a set of various battles we are indulging in simultaneously. They may or may not be brutal. They may even be very peaceful. Willingly or unwillingly, we all have been assigned the battles. Some, perhaps, we choose to fight. Some, we choose to ignore.  

The dilemma is, we spend more time taming our horses to seek refuge. We spend time seeking, exploring options and alternatives. We indulge in obsessions. We go at length to prepare an endless list of refugee camps for us in terms of places, people, and things. We run away even before confronting our enemies and our fears because we tame our horses to run faster than we tame our swords to fight. 

Often, we forget that the battles we have been assigned are by the One who loves us the most. We trust our horse power more than we trust His Endings to the battles we fight. We sharpen not the swords He gave us to fight; but the horses we created to run away from the field. 

We forget, that, joy lies in facing Life upfront. We forget, that, the battle is not necessarily a series of happening, dramatic unwanted circumstances. A battle can be a composition of mundane, stagnant waters of uncertainty. Hence, sharpening the sword of patience to fight the happening and not-so-happening battles alike is the bridge to who we are, who we want to be and who we become. 

Just the satisfaction of standing there in the battlefield, fighting each passing moment is the only way to Experience the Internal Satisfaction. It is the only justified then, to Look up Confidently and take pride in the fact that you tried and that is my Victory.

Oh, I am Sorry.

I love interacting with people from diverse cultures and backgrounds. Stemming from a country drenched in loans, corruption scandals and extreme terrorist activities, I have rarely found an opportunity to meet people from other countries in Karachi. Hence, whenever I am in Dubai to meet my family, it also serves as a forum to fulfil my passion for learning about other cultures. 

Last week, while standing at the top of the world at Burj Khalifa, enjoying the astounding sight of twinkling urban lights set across the dark horizons of wide desserts, I stumbled across an enthusiastic French guy. Hardly in his 30s, he seemed animated and full of stories. Since I was with my Indian cousins, it was natural for him to assume the same for me. 

"So Sultana, tell me how Mumbai is different from Dubai?" was just the start of an awkward 10 minutes conversation full of condolences. 

"Er, it is indeed quite different, but I see Mumbai catching up. However, I am from Karachi" I smiled broadly correcting him. 

He paused. Smiling an awkward smile, he remarked, "I am sorry, you're from Pakistan?"

"Yup, That's right". 

"Oh, I am so Sorry. I heard the things are so terrible there...I am extremely sorry. I didn't know. How do you survive there? Is it going to get any better? I personally feel we could all do something for people there. I mean, really, I am so sorry" He seemed visibly sorry. 

"It surely will get better. Well, at least, that's what we're hoping for." Awkwardness was totally in the air. I really did not know what to say after counting the number of apologies he had used in a single breath. 

I sincerely did wish that I had some fanciful skills of illustrating those lush green mountains and somehow convincing him that Pakistan was still the best place to visit. And, how, I am still not sorry for being a Pakistani. But I stopped short. Not because I doubt my skills; but because, I realized I had to rely on my skills to portray a picture of a nation which it truly is not at the moment. I am indeed, sorry. I felt like I am receiving condolences on behalf of 180 million of us, and well, I surely was. 

The feeling intensified when I landed back in Karachi. Not even 40 days had passed before another targeted attack had left 80+ humans brutally killed in Quetta. At the airport, everybody seemed to be discussing the riots, protests and political turmoil in the country. Everybody was keenly interested and deeply engrossed in number of dead from firing, which routes are blocked, how the country is just helpless and what not. One thing in particular was, they still did not seem sorry. I suddenly remembered the French guy back from my trip. 

Not just remembered, I think, I felt like him. And ever since, have been feeling so. I feel like going and offering condolences to each and every one of us sitting at home today. 

I wish I could tell the community how sorry I am. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I sit in the comforts of my apartment; away from the threats out there. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I hug my parents; unaware of the orphans left behind from the attacks. 

For I am sorry for every single time that it has happened and will happen. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I have complained about closed routes and long traffic jams due to protests. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I have luxuriously debated and exchanged views on the conditions of this country over a cup of coffee.

For I am sorry for every single time, I have felt that pang of excitement after hearing of a strike and no school/work tomorrow. 

For I am sorry for every single time, my friends/family living in the cute bubble of socio-economic comforts have defended this country. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I have closed the chrome window and switched to facebook just because the news seemed depressing. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I have switched back to entertainment channels because the casualties from the blast were low. Rather the score as we call it. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I have driven past places feeling sorry for the state in which people are living. 

For I am sorry for every single tweet, every single facebook status expressing solitude over the current conditions while laughing off at a joke with a friend sitting next to me. 

For I am sorry for every single time, I have attended a religious gathering/sermon and not taken the essence of the message of Standing with the Oppressed. 

For I am sorry that it took me time to sincerely feel, realize and stand up. 

For I am sorry for not relating to the emotions of the oppressed. For I am sorry for sitting at home till now. 

But there is one thing I am absolutely not sorry for. And that is the fact that I am Sorry. I am indeed Sorry to the 270+ families whose loved ones were killed in the name of Religion in just the first 48 days of this year. 

I am Sorry Hazara and all the nameless communities/humans killed in the web of trade terrorism, politics and our ignorance/silence. I indeed, failed you. Please accept my condolences and give me a chance to Stand for You today. 

Decisions

It is 10am in the morning. After years of education, extensive training and months of experience, I go ahead to undertake another trading deal. The deal is worth $10million. If things go as rightly as I have projected and if the market reacts as well as the trend suggests, then, well, I am bound to make a profit of $40million by 10pm tonight. The party's on. I am almost there. 

9:59pm, the market crashes. My decision goes not as well as I had projected. I end up making a loss of $20million instead. 

With a pistol in my hand and almost on the verge of suicide, I wonder. How could I go wrong? Everybody is surprised. Astounded. Taken aback. And then, I pause. I realize, they are not surprised, astounded at me. They are not looking at me and how I could go wrong. They are not criticizing me. They are pitying me. They are not doubting my decision making skills. They are wondering at the market and its ability to churn things around in the spur of the moment. For, at 10am, I had made the decision with the best of my knowledge, skills and information available. How could I then, at 10pm, blame myself for that decision?

We all make decisions everyday. Sometimes, we think, ponder, compare, analyse and then decide. Sometimes, we just decide and then repeat the analysis process just to fend ourselves. Each decision comes with its own set of costs and benefits. From picking up the branded jeans over the counter to choosing between the two drinks from the menu. Each decision, every single time, has a price attached to it. We give something in order to have something. What we give is part of our brains, analysis, time and the cost of not choosing the other thing. What we get is a box of consequences of that decision.

The clearest way of defining it perhaps is buying a Big Mac combo from McDonalds. We get a with-cheese big mac with fries and a regular drink. In return, we pay Rs.350. In exchange, we get the apparent as well as the psychological satisfaction of consuming it. 

But imagine, standing at the counter and not deciding. The store may close. The attendant at the counter may get agitated;  request or even forcefully shun you away to let others in the queue get their chance. Your family, your friends may also get irritated at you for taking time and just standing there. Now imagine, standing at the McDonalds counter for 3years, with Rs. 350, you might be able to afford a Big Mac today; but not forever. 

Same is the case with all the decisions we take. They say, all decisions are not as simple as treating yourself to fast food. Not all decisions come with a tag of mere Rs 350. There are gazillion other factors involved. The bigger the set of consequences and the fatter the size of decision, the heavier the risk. The higher the human tendency of complicating it. 

Even till date, if I stumble across a  mathematics question which looks tricky and complicated, I automatically start devising complicated solutions. We all love complicating things and answers for questions that just seem complicated. And perhaps, that is the trick. Like one big cute examiner, even God poses us with life dilemmas and questions that seem apparently tricky. Helpless in the hands of our stupid addiction of complication, we immediately delve into looking for complicated answers. 

Often a times, we get so bogged down with looking for curved roads and twisted solutions, that we end up entangling ourselves in the process of deciding. The heavy weight of our illusions and complications numb us. Slow us. And eventually, robs of our ability to even decide. And then, the worse happens. We lose ourselves and stop deciding. We chicken out. 

We forget that deciding is imperative to living. There is no right or wrong decision. It is in the context of situations. Putting it in comprehensible way, there are two degrees of wrong decisions. One, when we decide without the information at hand.

Two, when we choose not to decide. Imagine, if we all stop driving for the fear of going wrong with our judgements. Imagine, if all pilots refuse to takeoff because of the threat of air accidents. Imagine, if we all stop breathing for the fear of our airwaves blocking the next moment. Imagine, if we all stop buying smart phones, joining jobs in always the hopes of getting a better one in the near future. Imagine, if we all stop striking any deal in life, in the hopes of something bigger, better. 

We die not when we don't get what we expected out of the decisions. We die only when we stop deciding. 

Decision is a tool. A result of thorough analysis of available information. The information available at any given moment is constant and perfect, yet with the ticking of each second, its changing. 

The perfect decision is the precision with which we can determine the reason for choosing, the options and the available information related to it. With evolving paradigms of ourselves and others, the decision may not seem perfect after sometime, to ourselves or even to others. But then again, the key is to remember, that it was in the strongest context of the situation. 

Successful is the person who curbs down his need to complicate things, makes the decision, courageously takes up the accountability for it, tries his best to sustain the decision's consequences and does not whine to the world for it. It is easy to let others decide and later blame them. 

The key is to not let the brains cloud the rationality with complications. 

Listing down complications attached to absolutely any decision is the start. If our list is greater than 4points, than know it for sure that either we are not ready to decide or we're over complicating things to eventually hand over the decision making responsibility to somebody else. 

For no problem in life can extend a four point description in life. 

For deciding and owning up the decision is the only way to live and move on. 

To Human,

Sitting in a meeting, with 20point something agenda in your hand and almost a never ending task list; just 48hours before your long family vacation, you suddenly feel the urge to write. Yes that's me right now. 

I checked my phone right before going into the meeting and I couldn't stop smiling. There are times when you are appreciated for your expressions. For your ideas. And for sharing them with the world. 

What the world sees is the finest of ideas, redefined through your lens of perspective and defined in the linguistic skills acquired over time. However, what the world does not see is the raw material. The thought pattern. The humans, the observations, the experiences behind it. What the world does not see is the inspiration behind it. And just like our innate desire to express to the world, we often feel our urge to share the gratitude with the very entity which provoked that inspiration. 

We all have something, somebody, some suffering, some happiness to attribute and acknowledge for what we are thinking and feeling. Our skill is merely the language we use to express. Our expression is more than that. It is, as if, we are standing and experiencing a beautiful sunset, excitedly illustrating its intricate details to somebody who is not there to enjoy the sight. At the same time, we feel the need to share our joy, our newly found ability with the very Creator of the Sunset. 

And then, there are times, you can't thank your inspirations in life enough. For those humans who made you realize. For those inspirations that they gave you. Because just like our suffering and joyful experiences, these humans can't be thanked enough on the literal level. It seems demeaning to the gift they have given you. The gift of what is within you. The gift of inspiration. They act as the Agents of God on the planet. For many a times, just like we are thankful to our sufferings, tests and joys for teaching us something, these humans too teach you - knowingly, unknowingly. And often a times, to bypass the questions, biases and stereotypical paradigms of our society, the only thing you can truly do for them is remember them in your prayers. For you can sense God talking through them to you. 

I Fly like Paper - Get High like Planes

We all make planes. Paper planes. As children. In school. With friends, cousins or even siblings. As children, we loved tearing the pages from our notebooks, from our friends' notebooks and making planes. And just the access to coloured papers made us excited. Because we could then make colourful planes. Free periods was the best of our times. Those few minutes felt like the uttermost feeling of freedom. Freedom from studying and boring teachers. Specially, if the free period meant freedom from scheduled tests or heavy homework due dates. 

The feeling of standing on the desk, with a paper plane in our hands was priceless. The sight of standing on the desk, excitedly throwing the paper plane in the air, and seeing it glide through the classroom boards, dodging chairs and hitting the blackboard, was absolutely priceless. I bet, the innermost satisfaction derived standing there in that very moment is far stronger and beautiful than being crowned the King. 

And then we all grow up. Become boring. Driven by our growing impatience, we foolishly, look everywhere for that lost feeling of happiness in and around places and things. Places and things which fail to react or give us that lasting moment of happiness. It happens so because instead of making planes out of paper, we busy ourselves in making money out of paper. We forget the joys because we forget the process of tearing the papers from our notebooks. Instead of tearing the pages out, we busy ourselves in keeping the notebooks intact. Disguised in the beauty of calling it "Civilized and Mature adults", we fool ourselves. We stop making planes because we start following the herd. We never pause our pseudo-civilized life. Instead of closing our laptop and noticing the humans around, we search for happiness in the web of digital interactions. Instead of experiencing the power of "Contagious Smile", we prefer mulling over work and coffee. 

We stop dreaming and start searching for dreams in places which do not manufacture dreams. We stop making planes, and start searching for happiness in places which were not created to provide happiness at the first place anyway. We look for being crowned the King in places where no Kingdom of Joy exists. 

A child is considered impulsive and impatient. He wants everything now. As we grow up, we tone ourselves down to become civilized. We think we are gaining patience, becoming mature and rational, while in reality, we are just diverting our impulse and impatience to other things. As a child, we were impulsive for a paper plane. As adults, we become impulsive for luxury. 

Joy and Happiness is listening to the Soul. And as children, we knew the process. Because that's inherent in us. We all inherently absolutely love and enjoy the feeling of elevation and happiness and contentment. Smile is the most contagious emotion. As children, we taught it to elders. As adults, we delve into pseudo intellectualism of finding peace through expensive therapies in air conditioned rooms. As children, we experienced our Soul's joy standing on the table, in hot and humid weather, drenched in sweat yet excitedly making paper planes. 

Our inherent happiness and freedom is not listening to our animal instinct, it is listening to our Soul. And there is a huge difference between the two. For, if we listen to our animal instinct, it impatiently makes us keep the notebook intact in our bags, greedily and impulsively and selfishly. It does not know that the real joy lies in opening up the bag, taking the notebook out, tearing the pages down, making paper planes and seeing them glide through the air. Our animal selves look into the future for happiness and joy and freedom. Our Soul, patiently looks into Now for the Happiness, for the Joy and for the Freedom. 

Our Soul says, Smile and the world smiles with you. Our Soul says, Make paper planes and see the world come alive again. 

Humanity at Work

God is the Best Craftsman, thinks the craftsman on Earth while observing the perfectly carved mountains and beautifully flowing rivers, with the sun rays casting its magic on the water in a precisely intricate manner. Every single day. 

God is the Best Salesman, thinks the salesman who is completely sold to the Ideology of God and undeniably the Best Bargains offers. It seems, He is so closely connected to every single of  7 billion, that He just knows what, how and when to strike the Best Offer. An Offer His creation can't refuse. 

God is also, the Best Project Manager I say. In His Grand Scheme of things, He has a Mega Project of connecting Humanity, making us feel His Presence. Individually and Collectively. The only difference is, He doesn't need to conceive the idea. He says, and it exists. He works through His people in the most beautiful and astounding of ways. 

While, there are human brains trying to calculate, recalculate, evaluate, re-evaluate, assess, reassess and draw inferences and write conclusions and conceptualize projects and measure the impact, He Comes, Smiles and Shares Across just a Glimpse of One of His works, leaving the human brain surprised. Shunned. Taken aback. 

One such work with Mysterious Mechanisms and Intricate Connections, One such place where you see Him, Feel Him and Sense His Magic the Most is a Hospital. 

Step into any hospital. Sit in the waiting area or just take a walk into emergency. Picture the life moving in slow motion. Notice those guys. Observe those emotions. Feel the Humanity connected. Frustrated, stressed out, over worked, stretched over limited resources, Yet, Connected. Connected to Work on the mechanisms of Free Will yet on the Path Laid by Him. 

Forget family, forget relatives and forget friends. We all are already somehow connected to them anyway. He comes to us in the rarest and least expected of moments. He whispers to us what needs to be done. It is only when we hold the hand of a stranger, step beyond the realms of practicality, shut our senses to rational boundaries of personal comfort zones, that we Feel Him. It is only when we squeeze our eyes and pray for a soul that has absolutely no material or blood connection to us, That we sense the Strong Connection of Humanity. 

Forget doctors, nurses, surgeons and admin staff there. Forget them. As an individual creation, with a conventional brought up and from just another profession, walk into the hospital. Sit there as "you". And Let Him come to you as Him. When we walk in for a test at Aga khan, the strongest smell is that of band-aid and medicine. But when we walk in as humans without a need, the strongest smell is that of Humans. 

When we walk in as just us, we are indoctrinated with the Powers of His Project, when we whisper words of Hope and Faith, words which we had never even thought of before, into a dying body, We feel the Warmth of Existence and of Life. And after all this, when we walk out, we Feel Alive. We walk out not with a heavy baggage of despair or helplessness but with a Firm Presence of God. We walk out smiling for what we have just experienced is one of His Best Projects, for He is the Best Project Manager working mysteriously and majestically through his people. 

There are two kinds of damages. There are physical damages and dents on our body. And then, there are damages and dents on our soul. Our vacuum within, our yearning of indescribable is what needs just as much attention as our bleeding wounds and declining body health. Once in a while, when our body seems fit, it seems wise to walk into the hospital with a wounded soul, even if we think its not wounded. Get it diagnosed by the Master of all. For every human we hold there, for every human we hug there, works as the Best Medicine for our soul. For our soul can only be healed by healing others. By feeling them. By connecting with them. 

It is astounding how the humans combating bodily diseases there can heal the deepest of our imperfect souls by just asking us to help them. 

In essentially, they don't need us. We do. For its the only natural way of Healing and Experiencing the Best of Humanity at work.