Awoke with a start, it was getting late , Talib had about twenty aminutes to reach the all important gathering. He couldn't risk being late, so he made a wish to his guardian angel and set off turning his car onto the busy Zamzama thoroughfare. There was the usual endless slew of cars bearing down and the usual stream waiting to turn off into Zamzama, which he wanted to enter.
'Oh Lord!' he prayed, 'Please help me.' It was the turn of the cars turning off, and a really attractive girl, seemingly very refined and well mannered, sat at the wheel of a Pajero. Talib's heart sank, he'd have to wait atleast five minutes now.
But she smiled and motioned him to move ahead, giving him his chance. Talib swerved off, waved to her in gratitude and sped down, surprised at the now rare display of chivalry, 'sms'-ing two mental thank you messages to God and his guardian angles. As a further token of gratefulness, he allowed a car to turn off in front of him.
And the driver, in turn, wore the same expression of surprised gratitude as he waved thanks to him. A warm glow of contentment and favour slid into Talib's soul, suffusing his entire evening within its incandescence. Of having cared for and being cared for.
Stuck in a traffic jam, turned off into a narrow byway after being roasted amongst the almost negligibly moving cars, to find it blocked by a tractor loading rubble in front of an under-construction house. "You'll have to turn around mam! We have to load the vehicle." says the bearded labourer.
"The road is blocked. I can't possibly reenter it." she replies, explaining the situation. "Doesn't matter," he jokes. And in a more serious vein... "But you'll have to wait." The labourer then takes over from his co-worker and manages to load the tractor in a short while, calling over the driver to reverse it, to let her pass. She waves in gratitude, happier for the gesture of kindness.
The irked weariness of the traffic jam washed away. As she gives a packet of biscuits in appreciation, a warm glow suffuses her being, of communion with a humanity that still retained vestiges of its humanness, of giving and having received without any ulterior worldly motives.
She'd gone with her daughter to the local departmental store. It was a Friday evening- rush hour with loads of buyers thronging the premises.
'The usual set of boorish nouveau riche, pushing their way around,' she thought, not very excited about the entire prospect. As the car slid into a parking space, and she was about to venture trying to get down into the little space between the cars, the man in the car next to her's gallantly asked her to wait.
He reversed his car to give her space to come out and after she had done so, drove back in, to park. 'Must have done an extra good deed today to warrant such courtesy,' she thought, "Thank you Lord that there are some people for whom courtesy and consideration still hold value." I guess God really did want to reward her. Further surprises awaited her inside, a girl most graciously made room for her. When she later bumped into her in the lift, she again courteously welcomed her in, "Come in come in."
Nothing can compare to the joy of receiving or bestowing an act of kindness. Nothing material atleast. Then why is the quality of being kind to others, of even exchanging greetings, of giving way has become so rare? You might have had the worst of days, but when a stranger is inexplicably kind , waves or smiles at you, one just feels the world is not all that ugly, that goodness still exists, is not suffocated by the mechanical pace of life. That not everybody is out to bear you down and abuse you, common experiences if one is driving on the roads of Karachi
She was all alone is the strange cold city, winter break and all her friends had gone home for the vacations. She couldn't go home that year and was staying with strangers, it felt awkward to be with them in their tiny dwelling, so she'd spend the days on the streets of the cold, wet and deserted city. There was a party at their house, so she decided to just take the tube anywhere, anywhere to kill the time, although it was dark and gloomy outside, with the relentless rain and sleet and a piercing wind throwing it straight in your face.
She buried herself in her drenched coat and got off at the next stop as the rain had stopped. She was shivering. Another unknown locality, maybe she'd explore it and walk around. It was getting dark, she felt lost, abandoned amongst strangers, unwanted.
After a few dark, almost imperceptible in the gloom and darkness, streets it began to rain, steady blinding sheets of cold rain. She couldn't find her way back to the tube station, she almost panicked. "Oh God!" she prayed, "please don't desert me, I am in need of any goodness You can bestow upon me." She spotted a well-dressed elderly couple and hesitantly, embarrassed at her own bedraggled state asked for directions.
They were overwhelmingly warm and helpful and escorted her to the station. She no longer felt alone and abandoned. Funny in the darkest of moments, it is through another human act of kindness that God provides hope. The candle to cut out the dark and bring to life.
If one believes that every act of goodness is an inspiration of the Divine, that when we receive a good deed, God is being kind to us and when we perform a good act, we are being instruments of the Divine will, to do good. Then we'd take out the time to wait and be patient and more ready to sacrifice and do good. Admittedly, in the rat race of meeting deadlines, people's expectations and doing twenty thousand things at the same time, its hard to slow down and take the time out to think of others.
Maybe behind the wheels, cars dehumanise you. When you drive, you accost just other metal objects, yet one forgets that sitting within, are other humans and they are not your enemies who want to outrun you, but like you just want to get home or elsewhere. Courtesy, consideration is just a reflection of how far you respect other's rights or humanity. For other beings are also God's creation and if you love God, you must love His creation and do good unto them.
Good manners is just ensuring that you don't harm others by your actions, either in deeds, words or through negligence.
Our beloved Holy Prophet (PBUH) was the epitome of good manners, being kind to the weak, sick and pardoning all those who reviled or hurt him.
Collective amnesia of this basic precept has led the world to what it is. 'Of dog eat dog' and 'might is right' and 'the ends justify the means.'
A reflection of this is the abysmal greed and materialism of the modern world, where nothing but the welfare of the self matters. Hence business schools in the West, defamed and held responsible for the lack of moral ethics revealed in the financials scandals bedevilling the Corporate world, are now waking up to the importance of ethics in their curriculum.
They are now introducing the teaching of ethics to their MBA graduates, according to the Economist. Seemingly, these MBA's were so discredited that many firms had intended not to hire anymore MBAs, as they were deemed to cheat, and justify all kinds of wrong doings to achieve their objectives. Whereas in a holy tradition, a Muslim is not allowed to outbid another in buying goods, or propose when his brother has already proposed, unless with his permission.
It's evening, rush hour, in the narrow Gizri Alley, the lady in the car coming opposite has conveniently taken up the entire lane and forced him to squeeze in behind a parked car. There was plenty of room for her to pass through but the nervously, panicky lady insists that he move there to give her as much space as possible.
'Oh well,' he gives in, even if that means he'll have to wait endlessly, till the almost interminable slew of cars pass him by, or till some one kind enough waits for him and allows him to come out back into the Gully. "What an abysmal end to a hard, miserably futile day," he muses. He apprehensively looks at the long line of cars behind her and spots a bemused expression on the boy, in one of the cars behind. The boy smiles reassuringly, with a nod signifying, 'doesn't matter, just hang in there'.
Ali turns to look at her gingerly, at snail's pace, trying to move across and sees three, four by-standers and drivers chivvying her on. "There's plenty of room mam," they say and throw him sympathetic glances. Ali's exasperation radically dissipates with their attentive support. She moves ahead finally and when it's the turn of the smiling guy, he waits aside, waves for Ali to swing back onto the gully and move on.
Ali drives past, smiling back in gratitude, feeling that rush of exhilaration that only goodness and faith in humanity can provide. What might have been an unpleasant encounter transformed a disappointing day into something worthy.
It sad that these intangible values, in the glare of materialistic pleasures, have been allowed to slip past and fade away into oblivion, like silent falling stars. Perhaps that's why there is so much loneliness, boredom, depression and crime etc. For violence breeds violence and hostility, would breed hostility. For example,
It's four in the morning, Ahmad takes another turn in his efforts to sleep. But the teasing strains of some plaintive Indian number of mommy's days wont go away.
They've been bothering him all night. The Fajr azaan wafts in with the scattered moonshine, in tiny silvered shards upon the ebony floor. He gives up, no point in now trying to enter nether land , and awakens his snoring chowkidaar, to tell him to ask the guard next door to please turn his radio down.
"This is my house," is the grumpy reply "and I will do as I please within the confines of my four walls." Ahmad thanks his Lord that atleast its not the marriage season, that none of his neighbours have got married in the past so many years that he has slept in peace.
That he has never had to suffer months of endless, sleepless agony as those have who have weddings taking place in their vicinity. When the old and young, those studying for exams or trying to read, practice transcendental meditation, have been kept awake all night by the blaring noises of marriage festivities.
Golden words; its not your wealth, empty degrees but 'Manners that maketh the man,' 'its not what you are outside but the inside that counts.' As a saying of the Holy Prophet (SAW) related by a sahabi states that he used to say, "Amongst those who are most beloved to me are those who have the finest character." And anotrher holy personage has said, ' To have good character is a sign of God's grace.' Dispel sadness, the gloom and weariness of the world, make someone else happy, just to prove that our lives can make a difference to the world, for as we learnt in story books; ' a good deed begets another'.
Pause, listen to that tiny voice telling you to be patient, to give up your turn, squash that strident nagging and nervous chatter of the other, reminding you that 'you are running late, why should you care etc etc'. Allow yourself to be the instrument of Divine Will and maybe, you'll feel that transcending sense of unity and harmony, which only the love of the Creator and of His Creation can provide.
Comments
Comments are closed.