Sunday 7 December 2014

FOUR FACES OF FORGIVENESS

Righteousness is a suit of armour. The righteous suffer a lot of opposition and dissent. They are often victims of fraud, cheating, abuse, castigation and many other forms of physical and psychological challenges. But they are also shielded by the confidence of being ‘right’.

Some righteous people understand that the characteristic of being right is a blessing which has been bestowed upon them. Many are irked by the absence of their own reflection in each face they see, and when they become judgemental, the virtue of righteousness changes shade to become the malaise of self-righteousness.

The righteous person is in a position to feel and practice compassion, forgiveness and love; unless the idea of his own goodness goes to his head and he becomes guilty of conceit. The self-righteous ones become cynical and overlook to remember that they are in a position where they can feel compassion for those who are not so lucky.

Blessed are they that can forgive; forgive not as a favour bestowed upon the object of their forgiveness, but as a form of liberating themselves from the shackles of being judgemental, of bearing a grudge, of the burden of tolerating someone morally inferior. The favour of forgiveness is bestowed more upon oneself than upon the object of one’s forgiveness. Forgiveness cleanses the forgiver, giving him pride in tolerance, understanding, compassion and, finally, love.

Much has been said about forgiveness as a gift or a blessing to be given. But there is another face of forgiveness that is equally, if not more important; that of asking forgiveness!

One who is ridden with misgivings and guilt is not encased in the shell of righteousness. He is naked and vulnerable, weak in the knowledge of his guilt, stripped of his self-confidence. At the first sign of misgivings about some thought, word or action, he is prey to remorse. Remorse goes hand in hand with guilt and self-derision.

The remorse and uncertainty of being wrong are far more defeating than the frustration felt at others for being wrong when one knows what is right. The heavy shackles of guilt and remorse can only be broken by kindness and faith. Kindness to oneself in forgiving one’s fault, and faith in god and goodness, enough to build up the courage to ask forgiveness of those one has wronged.

Not forgiving oneself, not being compassionate and kind to oneself, is as bad as not forgiving others. Forgive, and make a fresh start.

Asking forgiveness is much more difficult than giving it. This is primarily because it must rely on the goodness of others rather than one’s own.

It is not easy, this business of asking forgiveness. It is far easier to try and justify one’s wrong than to forgive oneself or ask forgiveness of others.

One way would be to go about it slowly, deliberately. One could start by analysing and recognizing the possible effects of one’s transgression. One could go on to argue and quarrel with God for making it happen. Then one could thank God for making it happen because it has made one realize one’s helplessness in the face of guilt and hope in the power of God to rescue. Soon one would be able to appreciate God’s design and forgive oneself. As understanding dawned, it would become clear that there is no personal guilt, in the same way as there is no personal righteousness; only the Grand Design. It would be a short step then to forgive oneself and ask forgiveness of God.

These are both within the person, and easier to get at than the final stage, that of asking forgiveness from those who have been aggrieved or wronged. One runs the risk of rejection. But it may be remembered that once the asking is done, the burden is transferred to the giver. It is now his choice to forgive and start afresh, or to dwell upon time that has flowed by. This forgiveness is the one most difficult to ask for, and the most rewarding when received!

“Zeina Glo brings you the radiant glow of inner peace, good health and attendant beauty.
Zeina Glo helps you strip off layers of inhibitions, hesitation, and cynicism, allowing your thoughts and emotions to flow freely.
Zeina Glo helps to douse the flames of insecurity and guilt, to open the windows of mind and body to the cool fresh breeze of love.
Zeina Glo encourages you to spread inner peace, good health, radiance, exuberance, warmth, joy and the glow from your inner being.
Zeina Glo brings the beauty of your own thoughts back to you!!”


For, questions, criticism or advice, please post comments here, or write to zeinaglo@rediffmail.com or zeinaglow@gmail.com

Tuesday 25 November 2014

BANKING THE BALANCE

The banker was all congeniality and help. This had been a good customer for many years. His ‘savings account’ always had a reasonable sum of money flowing in and out. The income came from known sources of effort and investment. His father and brother, too, were known to be good customers and gentle people. His mother kept a good home and laid a welcome table.

The customer had now come asking for a loan. The banker was all congeniality and help. Details and procedures were taken care of in a manner reserved for good clients. It was not even really thought necessary to delve into how actually the money was to be spent; there was confidence in his intentions. The papers were drawn according to what his business and property allowed to be given to him. The business books had an entry called ‘goodwill’.

That is what The Bank wants. A reasonable flow of kindness, compassion, prayers, helpfulness, care, dependability, fairness, humility, magnanimity, love, truth, wonder, gratitude, benevolence; all adding up to a balance called goodwill that inspires faith.

An accountant tries to represent this goodwill in figures or monetary amounts. It serves his purpose related to business affairs.

But there is a bigger business which we are all involved in; the business of being, of living, of existing here and now, of passing through this moment and the one yet to come. Goodwill is the most important balance in The Bank. It is an accumulation of the thanks, good wishes, prayers, blessings and love of every little child; of every person who has ever been touched by the remotest of connections in the most irrelevant or bizarre of contexts; of the most humble of people; of the pet at home; of the beggar by the road; of the god in the temple; of the flower in the garden. The flow is fulfilled by giving in equal or greater measure to what one has received, and the savings account of goodwill inspires faith.

Then comes the fateful day in every life where one must overdraw upon the reserves of balance in the account.

The Banker is all congeniality and help. This had been a good customer….


“Zeina Glo brings you the radiant glow of inner peace, good health and attendant beauty.
Zeina Glo helps you strip off layers of inhibitions, hesitation, and cynicism, allowing your thoughts and emotions to flow freely.
Zeina Glo helps to douse the flames of insecurity and guilt, to open the windows of mind and body to the cool fresh breeze of love.
Zeina Glo encourages you to spread inner peace, good health, radiance, exuberance, warmth, joy and the glow from your inner being.
Zeina Glo brings the beauty of your own thoughts back to you!!”


For, questions, criticism or advice, please post comments here, or write to zeinaglo@rediffmail.com or zeinaglow@gmail.com

Thursday 30 October 2014

INSTANT COFFEE

Sleight of hand, illusion, trickery, magic; these are the things that happen in the flash of an eye. And instant coffee.

Miracles do not. They take years to build, sometimes ages, or countless births.

When the leper is healed at the touch of the Guru’s hand in Delhi, it is the instant of the touch that the world sees, and prays for more healing and magic. One tends to miss the faith that has been building over generations, the hope and the confidence, in the hearts of those wretches who have waited for timeless centuries for the coming of this Child to relieve them of unimaginable suffering. The build-up to the moment; that is the miracle. The hope generated for centuries yet unborn; that is the miracle.

Ills are cured, sores are healed, waters are parted, food is produced to feed the multitudes and Hope is firmly ensconced in the hearts of those who believe.

The world sees only the last moment when the scales are tipped from impure to pure, from evil to good, from filthy to clean, from abhorrent to desirable, from captivity to freedom.

And the world witnesses ‘miracles’.

Those who are present are overwhelmed and dissolve into oneness with Him Who Is the Miracle. Others think and analyse and infer and conclude and classify. What they are unable to explain is dubbed as a ‘miracle’, a phenomenon suffixed with an emphatic question mark.

It is a question of two sides of a beam balance. As faith in Him and His Way is added grain by grain, and The Big I on the other side dissolves and evaporates drop by drop, the miracle builds, ever so slowly.

Every breath rejoicing in Him counts. Every good wish and every thought and act of love counts. Compassion, forgiveness, surrender, appreciation, wonder, and the flow of Prana in any form, all add up to change the balance.

A Dalai Lama and the present generations of his countrymen may not see their land freed from foreign occupation, but the seed has been sown and nurtured, goodness and blessings gather,and one day the flower of freedom will bloom. The miracle is in motion.

Every human being and animal and plant and stone and grain of sand will one day experience the bliss of being one with It All. The miracle is in motion.

Which brings one to the combined miracle of forgiveness, compassion and Love! The Big Daddy of all miracles!!

Forgiveness will not happen in a moment or a day. But no man must lose heart. Forgiveness needs a chance to take root gradually. The fires of hatred will be doused in whatever time it takes, and the foam of forgiveness will come out the winner. 

Understanding and compassion will grow grain by painstaking grain. That is why the old truth will always live, 'Patience is the mother of all virtues.'

Ha! Even sleight of hand, illusion, trickery and magic do not really happen in the flash of an eye. They take years of practice and labour, till the scales are tipped, and illusion changes into reality.

And instant coffee? That miracle started eons ago to gradually perfect the seed and soil and temperature and humidity and factory processes and development of taste…. to culminate in the instant of the first sip!



“Zeina Glo brings you the radiant glow of inner peace, good health and attendant beauty.
Zeina Glo helps you strip off layers of inhibitions, hesitation, and cynicism, allowing your thoughts and emotions to flow freely.
Zeina Glo helps to douse the flames of insecurity and guilt, to open the windows of mind and body to the cool fresh breeze of love.
Zeina Glo encourages you to spread inner peace, good health, radiance, exuberance, warmth, joy and the glow from your inner being.
Zeina Glo brings the beauty of your own thoughts back to you!!”


For, questions, criticism or advice, please post comments here, or write to zeinaglo@rediffmail.com or zeinaglow@gmail.com

Monday 13 October 2014

ADITYA HAMAL WRITES AGAIN

Readers who have been following enough of my writing may by now have got some indication that I work in a school. It is a fully residential school just outside a beautiful hill town. The nature of my job allows children to share a lot of time and thoughts with me.

A bright high school student named Aditya Hamal first gave me his comments on the post called SEVEN POINT SIX TWO.

I posted his words in the ‘comments’ to that story.

Now Aditya Hamal tells me, “Sir, I've written something for your blog.”

I love my job because of these children. They are blessings showered upon me. If there is a certain undercurrent of positivity felt in my writing, I am sure that the constant company of five hundred young people who have the major part of their lives ahead of them and are busy enjoying the present, has a lot to do with it.

I urge all my readers to try and put their thoughts in writing, on paper or on some computer device. Writing enables one to express thoughts coherently, give them a definite form and expression, face one’s thoughts as they look back at one, and read them after months or years and savour them again.

Writing unwittingly lists out lots of positive pronouncements of one’s own thinking which cannot be denied when read at a later date, thus bringing one face to face with hope, self-confidence, faith, love, forgiveness and compassion.

Write.

Because he wrote for my blog, I reproduce Aditya Hamal’s words.


The Dark Knight

By Aditya Hamal

“The Germans have a word called ‘schadenfreude’. ‘Schaden’ means damage and ‘freude’ means joy. It means to attain happiness from others’ discomfort. This phenomenon was first recognised in the context of the media. The media thrives upon others’ misfortunes. Every time there is a mishap, the media gets pretty excited for there is a rise in their TRP. But this attitude is not limited to the media; this emotion has been noticed in people from all walks of life. It gives certain people immense pleasure to see others suffer. Some people thrive on such sadistic joy.

“Everyone has a ‘dark side’ to them. We have all committed acts in the past that we aren’t proud of, acts that we regret doing at that time. We have all had that moment in our lives when we were victims of schadenfreude.

“Well, it’s time to move on. Let bygones be bygones. Whatever has happened in the past cannot be changed. We can apologise for our past behaviour, but it is not wise to linger on past mistakes. These thoughts will just make us feel guilty, distract us from our work, and disturb our peace of mind.

“It is easier to forgive others than to forgive ourselves for our wrongdoings. It’s time to forgive ourselves before forgiving others, “For to err is human, to forgive divine.”


“Thank you.”


“Zeina Glo brings you the radiant glow of inner peace, good health and attendant beauty.
Zeina Glo helps you strip off layers of inhibitions, hesitation, and cynicism, allowing your thoughts and emotions to flow freely.
Zeina Glo helps to douse the flames of insecurity and guilt, to open the windows of mind and body to the cool fresh breeze of love.
Zeina Glo encourages you to spread inner peace, good health, radiance, exuberance, warmth, joy and the glow from your inner being.
Zeina Glo brings the beauty of your own thoughts back to you!!”


For, questions, criticism or advice, please post comments here, or write to zeinaglo@rediffmail.com or zeinaglow@gmail.com

Wednesday 8 October 2014

FOLLOW ZEINA GLO

The previous post, 'Haji Tabarak', has received an overwhelming response. It has risen in just four days to be my fourth most popular post of all time.

I am grateful.

I have been asked by many to include some sort of an application on my blog that announces any new posts or comments. I have been unable so far to find such an app.

For those who wish to get instant updates on new posts and activity on Zeina Glo, the best option is to look at the column to the right of the story, below the second advertisement from the top, and come to the heading 'FOLLOWERS'. It is followed by an option to 'Join This Site'.

That is the thing to do! It will give you latest updates on any activity on Zeina Glo in your email Inbox.

Another option is to scroll down to the very bottom of the page, below the bottom advertisement, to the heading 'Follow by Email'. This wonderful thing also reports any activity on the blog to your email Inbox.

There is a third option of subscribing to posts and comments, to be found at the very bottom of the page.

Any of these will make the Zeina Glo tales easier to follow by email.

Friday 3 October 2014

HAJI TABARAK

(Today is Jashan’s 15th birthday. Zeina Glo was conceived on this day last year. I write for her a story of her home.)

Nawab Nagar was reborn in the 1950s with a large heart. The farmers from Jatwar and their women worked tirelessly. Wilderness, disease, injury, loneliness, toil and hardships were the order of the day. Blaming the circumstances was unheard of, and the adversities only served to fire a driving need, a passion to create something better.

The elders faced countless challenges, and a host of children were tucked away in boarding schools to help them get a good education and keep them from the social ills that threatened every growing man and woman. Accidents, killings, tigers, hyenas, lawsuits, disease and death did their worst. Alongside, honesty, integrity, toil, labour, kindness, sharing, compassion and courage did their best. Nawab Nagar soon metamorphosed into an industrious workplace and a safe haven, with an ingrained spirit of sharing its wealth.

A lot of people from the surrounding area were closely involved in the miracle of Nawab Nagar. Many a family was helped to set up a small business, many a relative got refuge as part of the family in adverse circumstances, many a hospital, school and place of worship were aided silently. Men and women came from far and near to work at the farm, drive the tractors, help out at the homestead, tend the cattle and even to just be around. Not a soul went hungry if the women could help it. The fare was simple, but the meal was always forthcoming.

All the little things that make a locality easier to live in gradually came about in Nawab Nagar; a flour grinding ‘chakki’, a cane juice extractor ‘kolhu’, a gurudwara (the neighbouring farmers asked for a loudspeaker to be put on the roof so that they could hear the morning and evening prayers), a little stall selling tea and sweets, and a workshop for repairing farm machinery.

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My earliest memory of Tabarak is of a straight, tall, sturdy man with eyes that were not black or brown, towering over the huge metal bowls where the cane juice was boiled and cleaned and re-boiled to yield ‘gur’, jaggery. It was an exciting world of heat and vapours and danger of scalding as the workers hurried from tub to tub of boiling liquid and large flat tabs made to cool the sticky hot jaggery. Tabarak moved in the melee with long strides, a formidable man sparing nary a glance at us little ones picking at the solidifying stuff and licking up the fresh ‘gur’ with our fingers. I may have been six to eight years old; there was one streak of grey in his handsome beard. He always wore a black cloth cap with straight sides.

His job was to get the sugarcane from the fields to the crusher. He had a fleet of bullock carts and the creaking of their wooden wheels, the labouring breath of the oxen and the click-clacking and cursing of their drivers was very much a part of growing up in Nawab Nagar. As we grew older, Tabarak’s fleet of bullock carts took on various tasks, like carrying husk from the rice sheller and transporting sugarcane to the sugar factory weighbridge about 3 kilometres away. We would follow on our bicycles and have every cart weighed, unloaded and weighed again, and then get the receipts from the factory and government clerks who always seemed to be cheating us and mocking us for being literate and polite.

Tabarak had a number of sons who drove the carts. They were hard working and fun loving young men who would often josh around and race bicycles with us. Tabarak, like all elders, minded his work and seldom spoke to us children.

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School took us away. Tractors and trailers and metalled roads sent him away. Bullock carts on season-long contract became a thing of the past. But Tabarak and his sons were honest and hard-working, and they went on to prosper in their home town.

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Bappuji, our father, died when I was nine. The kids grew to become men. Marriages and children happened. Chachchaji, his younger brother, grew old, as did our mothers.

Greed, ambition, avarice, insecurity, envy, jealousy, cheating, pomposity, bullying, exploitation and all their cohorts conspired against the land and the family. The innocence was shattered. Brother became enemy to brother, one generation bullied the other, parents forewent morals, children lost respect.

The rape of Nawab Nagar was not pleasant to witness, and some of us ventured out, having lost our bearings and left with no sense of direction. I joined the army.

The army days were great fun and very fulfilling for a young man, but they could not cure the pain of the plunder of Home. I chucked my job and returned after six years to join the battle of Nawab Nagar.

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It may have been twenty years; one day Bebbe, mother, sent word for me. I went out to see her standing under the old Neem tree (See older post ‘Three Trees (Nawab Nagar)’), talking to a tall greying man wearing a familiar black cap with stiff sides. Tabarak!! He had called for me, and those grey-green frontier eyes were not rheumy, they were moist with emotion.

Tabarak had just lived out what I believe is every Muslim’s ultimate dream; he had been on the holiest pilgrimage, the Hajj to Mecca.

He had brought back gifts for us, his family of Nawab Nagar – trinkets mostly, some small thing for everyone; a special necklace for Bebbe, and something for Chachchaji and Chachchiji. My cynical old mother talked to him gently and received his gifts and blessings with grace. Then I got a caress on my head, and he put a blue and green silky cloth over my shoulders. It hung down to my waist; the pictures on it seemed to be of the Prophet's Mosque in Medina and the Ka’aba in Mecca.

I was the youngest of the boys of our generation, and I was overwhelmed to think that all these years I had held a special place the affections of this silent big man who came back after so many years with blessings from his God in Mecca.




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Another twenty years have probably gone by. My generation has crossed over to the age of grey. Ambitions have been lived out. Disease and death have come and gone. Good times have been celebrated. A lot of young people have joined the family, and all their folks behind them. We, the elder ones, live with our troubles and mistrusts buried below the surface, ridden over now by optimism and hope as we see our youngsters grow. Our surviving elders live to smile and bless and bind us together by their presence. The kids retain the spirit of love and caring and joy at each other’s being. The sun is out, God is in his heaven, and all is well with the world.

Parts of Nawab Nagar have been ruined; the aftermath of battle. Some bits have been sold. Each one who moves on carries a part of Nawab Nagar to far off corners of the world.

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Haji Tabarak, and so many of his kind who toiled and built and wished everyone well, live in the deepest recesses of our hearts, where only love and grace can reside. Their benevolence and goodwill still helps us from inside and out.


In my closet in Nawab Nagar lies a reminder of the spirit of the place and the men who walked this land; a cloth of green, orange and blue; on it a picture of a desert shrine where long ago a weary traveller lay down to rest, unmindful of where his feet were pointing; blessings brought home from Mecca by an old man to a child he loved.



TAMAM



















29 October, 2014                                       POST SCRIPT

I asked friends today and got this information. The ‘cloth’ is a prayer mat, a ‘Jaam-e-Mamaaz’. It is adorned with a picture of a mosque that indicates the side a person should face and lay his forehead while offering Namaaz. In the middle seems to be a cluster of tents in a camp. The bottom, where the person’s knees or legs would rest, has a chandelier hanging from an ornate arch.

One family told me that the picture shows the Prophet’s Mosque at Medina, the Ka’aba at Mecca, and a chandelier which they think is just an ornamental design. Another friend says that it may be any mosque and an encampment in the desert. All tell me that it is a prayer mat, made of especially light cloth, to be carried during travel.

I am humbled.

I have put up a picture of what Tabarak brought for me from his Haj. I respectfully invite all those who can throw more light on its significance to enlighten us with their comments.