Friday, December 3, 2010

love? hate?

"Narrated `Aisha:
When the Prophet became ill, some of his wives talked about a church which they had seen in Ethiopia and it was called Mariya. Um Salma and Um Habiba had been to Ethiopia, and both of them narrated its (the Church's) beauty and the pictures it contained. The Prophet raised his head and said, "Those are the people who, whenever a pious man dies amongst them, make a place of worship at his grave and then they make those pictures in it. Those are the worst  creatures in the sight of Allah." "


 - (Sahih Bukhari: vol. 2 (book 23), hadith 425)



(pic courtesy: *_Abhi_*)


"Narrated Ibn `Abbas: While the Prophet was performing Tawaf of the Ka`ba, he passed by a person who had tied his hands to another person with a rope or string or something like that. The Prophet cut it with his own hands and said, "Lead him by the hand." "


 - (Sahih Bukhari: vol. 2 (book 23), hadith 425)

Monday, May 24, 2010

വിഗ്രഹങ്ങൾ ..

"നിർവൃതിയുടെ നിമിഷങ്ങളിൽ കിട്ടിയതെന്തോ അത്‌ പ്രവാചകന്മാർ മുറുകെപ്പിടിച്ചു, കിട്ടാത്തത്‌, അവശേഷിച്ചത്‌, അവിദ്യയുടെ പെരുവഴിയിൽ ചിതറിവീണു. പ്രവചനത്തിന്റെ ഒരു ഭിന്നിതം മാത്രം കിട്ടിയ ഓരോ പ്രവാചകനും പറഞ്ഞു, 'ഞാനാണ്‌ വഴി.' ഈശ്വരസ്പർശത്തിന്റെ തീവ്രതയിൽ, പരമാനന്ദത്തിൽ, ഭിന്നിതം സ്വയം പൂർണ്ണമായി, പിന്നെ അത്‌ ചരിത്രത്തിലേക്കിറങ്ങി വിഗ്രഹവും ക്ഷേത്രവുമായി. വിഗ്രഹത്തെ ഒഴിച്ചുനിർത്തിയ പ്രാർത്ഥനാമന്ദിരമായി, സാധനയായി, നിയമമായി, ശാഠ്യമായി; ശാഠ്യം ആക്രമണവും യുദ്ധവുമായി."

- (പ്രവാചകന്റെ വഴി)



 [Laughing buddha pic cortesy: williamcho]

Saturday, May 22, 2010

പ്രവാചകൻ ..

"

"പ്രവചനം ഒന്നിൽനിന്നും തുടങ്ങിയതല്ല, ഒന്നിലും അത്‌ അവസാനിയ്ക്കുന്നുമില്ല. എന്നാൽ പ്രവാചകൻ മനുഷ്യനാണ്‌, മനുഷ്യാവതാരത്തിന്റെ എല്ലാ പരിമിതികളും അയാൾക്കുണ്ടാകും. പ്രവാചകനിലൂടെ വന്ന അറിവുകൾ കുറിച്ചുവെയ്ക്കുന്നതും മനുഷ്യൻ, പരിമിതികളുള്ളവൻ! താൻ ആവർത്തിയ്ക്കുന്നത്‌ അവന്റെ വാക്കുകളാണെന്നും, താൻ മാത്രമാണ്‌ വഴിയെന്നും ഒരു പ്രവാചകൻ പറയുമ്പോൾ അവൻ എണ്ണിയാലൊടുങ്ങാത്ത പ്രവാചക പരമ്പരകൾക്കുവേണ്ടി സംസാരിയ്ക്കുകയാണ്‌."

"പ്രവാചകന്മാരുടെ വ്യത്യാസങ്ങൾ--"

"മിനാരത്തിലെ വിളിയും ഓടക്കുഴലും തമ്മിലുള്ള വ്യത്യാസം, ഒട്ടകവും പശുവും തമ്മിലുള്ള വ്യത്യാസം, ഇതൊക്കെ പ്രവചനവാക്യങ്ങളുടെ പ്രതീകങ്ങളെ ഇത്തിരിയിത്തിരി ബാധിച്ചിരിയ്ക്കുന്നുവെന്നുമാത്രം. അപ്രകാരം തന്നെ, പ്രവാചകന്മാരുടെ പിന്മുറക്കാർ ഭരണാധിപന്മാരായി മാറുമ്പോൾ സ്വന്തം സ്ഥാപിതതാൽപര്യങ്ങളെ പ്രവചനത്തിന്റെ ചുട്ടികുത്തി മതഗ്രന്ഥങ്ങളിലേയ്ക്ക്‌ തിരുകിക്കയറ്റുകയും ചെയ്യുന്നു."

"അപ്പോൾ ഈ താടിയും മുടിയും," സുജാൻസിങ്ങിന്റെ സ്വരം ചരിത്രസന്ദേഹങ്ങൾകൊണ്ടു നിറഞ്ഞു, "ഉടമ്പടിയെന്ന് കോർപ്പറൽ വൈസ്മൻ വിളിച്ച ഈ അനുഷ്ഠാനം, അതിനുവേണ്ടി മരിയ്ക്കുന്നതിൽ അർത്ഥമില്ലെന്നാണോ അങ്ങ്‌ പറഞ്ഞുവരുന്നത്‌?"

"അങ്ങനെയെന്തെങ്കിലും തറപ്പിച്ചുപറയാൻ എനിയ്ക്കു വയ്യ സുജാൻസിംഗ്‌."

"പിന്നെ ഹിന്ദുവും ശിഖനും ഇങ്ങനെ പെരുമാറുന്നത്‌ എന്തുകൊണ്ട്‌?" കുരിശുയുദ്ധങ്ങൾ എങ്ങനെയുണ്ടായി?"

നാരായണൻ ഭയന്നും വേദനിച്ചും പറഞ്ഞു, "പ്രവാചകന്‌ ചിലപ്പോൾ തെറ്റുപറ്റുന്നു, മിക്കപ്പോഴും പ്രവചനത്തിന്റെ അവസാനവാക്യങ്ങൾ കേൾക്കാനാവാതെ ദൈവാനുഭവത്തിൽ പ്രവാചകൻ എരിയുന്നു."

"ഇത്‌ ഞാൻ എങ്ങനെ സഹിക്കും, സാബ്‌?"

"ഇത്തരം സഹനങ്ങളുടെ പ്രത്യക്ഷരേഖകളാണ്‌ ഭാരതത്തിന്റെ ആത്മീയത."
                                                                                                       "

- (പ്രവാചകന്റെ വഴി) [Amazon link: Pravachakante vazhi]


[Preaching pic courtesy: Eric Skiff]

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Red sand hill..


Narrated Abu Huraira: The angel of death was sent to Moses and when he went to him,  Moses slapped him severely, spoiling one of his eyes. The angel went back to his Lord, and said, "You sent me to a slave who does not want to die." Allah restored his eye and said, "Go back and tell him (i.e. Moses) to place his hand over the back of an ox, for he will be allowed to live for a number of years equal to the number of hairs coming under his hand." (So the angel came to him and told him the same). Then Moses asked, "O my Lord! What will be then?" He said, "Death will be then." He said, "(Let it be) now." He asked Allah that He bring him near the Sacred Land at a distance of a stone's throw. Allah's Apostle (p.b.u.h) said, "Were I there I would show you the grave of Moses by the way near the red sand hill."

- (Sahih Bukhari: Vol.2, book 23, hadith 423)

[red sand hill pic courtesy: NeilsPhotography]

Monday, April 26, 2010

The Alchemist



Title: The Alchemist
Author: Paulo Coelho
ISBN: 978-81-7223-498-0
Publ: Harper Collins


This book has been there on my TBR shelf for over a year now, and I felt it too cruel to make it wait any longer.  Almost everyone has read this book and it has been talked about so much to the point that people seem to have stopped discussing it anymore. It was high time. And as soon as I took my plunge, sudden realization occurred that I had returned once again to something that I have always treasured so much and yet remained forgotten or abandoned due to negligence.


In the prologue, the author presents an entirely different angle to the story of Narcissus, whose tale is known by everyone and has been told and retold so many times over. Just see this:
'.. when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty tears.
“Why do you weep?” the goddesses asked.
“I weep for Narcissus,” the lake replied.
“Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus,” they said, “for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand.”
“But… was Narcissus beautiful?” the lake asked.
“Who better than you to know that?” the goddesses said in wonder. “After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!”
The lake was silent for some time. Finally, it said:
“I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected...”  '
Paulo Coelho is a beautiful writer.


Page 9 reminded me about my father:
' “Well, I’d like to see their land, and see how they live,” said his son.
“The people who come here have a lot of money to spend, so they can afford to travel,” his father said. “Amongst us, the only ones who travel are the shepherds.”
“Well, then I’ll be a shepherd!”
His father said no more. The next day, he gave his son a pouch that held three ancient Spanish gold coins.
“I found these one day in the fields. I wanted them to be a part of your inheritance. But use them to buy your flock. Take to the fields, and someday you’ll learn that our countryside is the best, and our women the most beautiful.”
And he gave the boy his blessing. The boy could see in his father’s gaze a desire to be able, himself, to travel the world – a desire that was still alive, despite his father’s having had to bury it, over dozens of years, under the burden of struggling for water to drink, food to eat, and the same place to sleep every night of his life.'
Paulo Coelho must have had a father same as mine. Or.. is it the same story with all fathers and sons around the world?.. I don't know.


There have been numerous authors and numerous books so far in the world. And all sorts of stories have been told. All possibilities have been explored to such an extent that there seems hardly anything that is to be told in the space between a book and another, between an author and the next. Yet to our surprise, ideas sprout, stories never before told spring up from obscure spaces we thought not to be, though extremely rarely, and when someone makes it happen, we call him/her a genius. Coelho is one. He could see things that others fail to:
' “I have had the same dream twice,” he said. “I dreamed that I was in a field with my sheep, when a child appeared and began to play with the animals. I don’t like people to do that, because the sheep are afraid of strangers. But children always seem to be able to play with them without frightening them. I don’t know why. I don’t know how animals know the age of human beings.'


By the time I reached page 43, I was thinking of Kuruvi Gopi.. The boys travels in The Alchemist is similar to the ones of Kuruvi Gopi in the book which has his name for the title. It is perhaps the first novel I have ever read. I read it as a child. It's a novel for children, and I had loved it so intensely. I need a copy of it again. I miss it so much! But DC Books says it's out of stock..


At page 45, my thoughts were revolving around the question as to what kind of writer Paulo Coelho was. We call them by different names- writers, authors, men of letters, literateurs.. but more suitable for him is the word 'storyteller'. Like  Rushdie, he is a teller of amazing tales, transcending fables. As Shashi Tharoor has told, Rushdie is perhaps the greatest prose-stylist of our times. He plays with words and ideas to create vivid and colourful pictures in our minds. And Coelho's solemn style touches your soul.


Pages 88-89 triggered a string of thoughts:
1. The word 'language' has been appearing throughout the book in many places, and finally when the book says that the one common language of the entire world was nothing but Love, we see what kind of literary magic the writer is capable of conjuring up, because in one of the earlier pages when The Englishman talks about the Bible and says that:
"There is a universal language, understood by everybody, but already forgotten. I am in search of that universal language, among other things. That's why I'm here. I have to find a man who knows that universal language."
we can't help but only think of the Tower of Babel and the one common tongue of the people which was split into uncountably many and perplexingly varied by it.
'At that moment, it seemed to him that time stood still, and the Soul of the World surged within him. When he looked into her dark eyes, and saw that her lips were poised between a laugh and silence, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke— the language that everyone on earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. Something that exerted the same force whenever two pairs of eyes met, as had theirs here at the well. She smiled, and that was certainly an omen— the omen he had been awaiting, without even knowing he was, for all his life. The omen he had sought to find with his sheep and in his books, in the crystals and in the silence of the desert. It was the pure Language of the World. It required no explanation, just as the universe needs none as it travels through endless time. What the boy felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. He was more certain of it than of anything in the world.'
2. If Paulo Coelho's stories can be said to be of a similar quality of any earlier writer, it must be Kahlil Gibran's.


3. The book reminded me of the importance of believing in love at frst sight. I'm a very late believer of it. Until not very long back I used to believe that only after knowing enough of each other must two people be in love. But the world taught me otherwise through years. And I started believing in love at first sight. And it was only recently in a beautiful email with amazing pictures and inspiring words that the idea occurred in words as a theory to me for the first time after it. And the following quote from the book is my second reminder:
'He had been told by his parents and grandparents that he must fall in love and really know a person before becoming committed. But maybe people who felt that way had never learned the universal language. Because, when you know that language, it's easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it's in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, and their eyes meet, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment..'


Anyway, after three quarters of the book, I felt the entire plot was turning less deeper and I feared if the ending was not taken good care of, the book was going to lose the impact it had been making so far at the time I close it. And unfortunately it turned out to be slightly true, if not entirely. Nevertheless, it fulfills in a wonderful way what is written on the back cover. That it's a book about following your dream. It has managed far better than most of the so-called spiritual self-help books that make similar claims and turn out to be totally useless, like The Monk who Sold his Ferrari . It says that it's about fulfilling your dreams. Duh! But then, perhaps there are people who like it that way.

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Mercy 'n' wrath..

Narrated Abu Qilaba:
Anas said, "Some people of `Ukl or `Uraina tribe came to Medina and its climate did not suit them. So the Prophet ordered them to go to the herd of (Milch) camels and to drink their milk and urine (as a medicine). So they went as directed and after they became healthy, they killed the shepherd of the Prophet and drove away all the camels. The news reached the Prophet early in the morning and he sent (men) in their pursuit and they were captured and brought at noon. He then ordered to cut their hands and feet (and it was done), and their eyes were branded with heated pieces of iron, They were put in 'Al−Harra' and when they asked for water, no water was given to them." Abu Qilaba said, "Those people committed theft and murder, became infidels after embracing Islam and fought against Allah and His Apostle ."

- (Sahih Bukhari: vol 1, book 4, hadith 234)




Narrated Abu Ma`bad (the slave of Ibn `Abbas):
Allah's Apostle said to Mu`adh, "be afraid of the curse of an oppressed person because there is no screen between his invocation and Allah."

- (Sahih Bukhari: vol 2, book 24, hadith 573)


[Snow pic courtesy: Tony the Misfit
Green pic courtesy: ƥɾαɳαʋ]

Thursday, April 15, 2010

The Enchantress of Florence

Title: The Enchantress of Florence
Author: Salman Rushdie
Publ: Jonathan Cape
ISBN: 978-0-224-06163-6


When I read Fury I felt it very un-Rushdie-like. More so, when you compare it with his books like Midnight's Children and The Satanic Verses which contain essentially nothing but an interesting and colourful jumble of words and ideas and don't seem to bother much about a proper structure or form for the plot itself. This book, The Enchantress of Florence is an amazing blend of the two styles of Rushdie. The story has a proper beginning and ending and has a very easy flow. It takes place between two geographies of the sixteenth century, namely the Mughal empire under Akbar and the Renaissance Florence. It is, as the author himself says and is also obvious from the book itself, Rushdie's book in the making of which he has done the most amount of research.


One fine morning, a yellow-haired Italian from Florence appears from the blue before Akbar's court and claims that he is a long-lost relative of the Mughal family, having descended from Qara Koz (the Enchantress). The story unfolds as you read on, and the suspense as to how could the two different people from two different corners of the globe, who are otherwise, i.e., in real history, far from being connected in any way, be possibly  related (blood realtion at that! (sort of)) is tightly held until last unlike many of Rushdie's novels, which makes it all the more a gorgeous read. One thing I found very different from other works of Rushdie, apart from other factors, is that it's not just the playful Rushdie all the way; one can spot Rushdie the philosopher in at least a few passages in this book, if not spread all over the place, requesting your company in his serious thoughts about love, ego and issues such as incest and troubles with relationships.


I was expecting that the story would be almost equally divided between Florence and Fatehpur Sikri, but the Florence part was found to take up more pages than the fabulous Sikri of Akbar. But I enjoyed the Indian part more than the Western narrative, probably because I could relate more to the Eastern history being from India myself than the tales of Florence of which I hardly know anything. But nevertheless no doubt this is a book of substance, and perhaps the most matured and most polished work of Rushdie so far, scrupulously chiselled to perfection. 


Valuable literature, indeed!


[Note: For a better understanding of the book, or the making of it, to be more precise, please read Rushdie's interview with James Mustich: Salman Rushdie Spins a Yarn in Barnes & Noble Review.]

Friday, April 9, 2010

glory and stones..

Narrated Kharija bin Zaid bin Thabit:
"Um Al-'Ala', an Ansari woman who gave the pledge of allegiance to the Prophet said to me, "The emigrants were distributed amongst us by drawing lots and we got in our share 'Uthman bin Maz'un. We made him stay with us in our house. Then he suffered from a disease which proved fatal. When he died and was given a bath and was shrouded in his clothes, Allah's Apostle came. I said, 'May Allah be merciful to you, O Abu As-Sa'ib! I testify that Allah has honored you'. The Prophet said, 'How do you know that Allah has honored him?' I replied, 'O Allah's Apostle! Let my father be sacrificed for you! On whom else shall Allah bestow His honor?' The Prophet said, 'No doubt, death came to him. By Allah, I too wish him good, but by Allah, I do not know what Allah will do with me though I am Allah's Apostle.' "
- (Sahih Bukhari: Book 23, hadith 334)






Narrated `Abdullah bin `Umar :
"The Jew brought to the Prophet a man and a woman from amongst them who have committed (adultery) illegal sexual intercourse. He ordered both of them to be stoned (to death), near the place of offering the funeral prayers beside the mosque."
- (Sahih Bukhari: Book 23, hadith 413)



[stones pic courtesy: faith goble]

Monday, April 5, 2010

women..

'Narrated Abu Huraira: The Prophet (p.b.u.h) said, "It is not permissible for a woman who believes in Allah and the Last Day to travel for one day and night except with a Mahram." '

- (Sahih Bukhari: book-20, hadith-194)






'Narrated `Aisha: "A woman from the tribe of Bani Asad was sitting with me and Allah's Apostle (p.b.u.h) came to my house and said, "Who is this?" I said, "(She is) So and so. She does not sleep at night because she is engaged in prayer." The Prophet said disapprovingly: "Do (good) deeds which is within your capacity as Allah never gets tired of giving rewards till you get tired of doing good deeds." " '

- (Sahih Bukhari: book-21, hadith-251n)


(Image courtesy: siavash laghai)

Sunday, April 4, 2010

dua, baddua... again...

Narrated Anas bin Malik: 'Once the Prophet (p.b.u.h) entered the Mosque and saw a rope hanging in between its two pillars. He said, "What is this rope?" The people said, "This rope is for Zainab who, when she feels tired, holds it (to keep standing for the prayer.)" The Prophet said, "Don't use it. Remove the rope. You should pray as long as you feel active, and when you get tired, sit down." '

- (Sahih Bukhari: book-21, hadith-251r)


* * *


Narrated Masruq: 'We were with `Abdullah and he said, "When the Prophet saw the refusal of the people to accept Islam he said, "O Allah! Send (famine) years on them for (seven years) like the seven years (of famine during the time) of (Prophet) Joseph." So famine overtook them for one year and destroyed every kind of life to such an extent that the people started eating hides, carcasses and rotten dead animals. Whenever one of them looked towards the sky, he would (imagine himself to) see smoke because of hunger." '

- (Sahih Bukhari: book-17, hadith-121)

Thursday, April 1, 2010

dua..baddua..

Narrated `Abdullah: The Prophet prayed, and when he had finished the prayers he was asked, "O Allah's Apostle! Has there been any change in the prayers?" He said, "What is it?" The people said, "You have prayed so much and so much." So the Prophet bent his legs, faced the Qibla and performed two prostrations (of Sahu) and finished his prayers with Taslim. When he turned his face to us he said, "If there had been anything changed in the prayer, surely I would have informed you but I am a human being like you and liable to forget like you. So if I forget remind me."

- (Sahih Bukhari - book:8, hadith:394)




* * *


Narrated `Aisha and `Abdullah bin `Abbas: When the last moment of the life of Allah's Apostle came he started putting his 'Khamisa' on his face and when he felt hot and short of breath he took it off his face and said, "May Allah curse the Jews and Christians for they built the places of worship at the graves of their Prophets."

- (Sahih Bukhari - book:8, hadith:427)

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

prayers, women..


Narrated Abu Mas`ud Al−Ansari: Once a man said to Allah's Apostle "O Allah's Apostle! I may not attend the (compulsory congregational) prayer because so and so (the Imam) prolongs the prayer when he leads us for it. The narrator added: "I never saw the Prophet more furious in giving advice than he was on that day. The Prophet said, "O people! Some of you make others dislike good deeds (the prayers). So whoever leads the people in prayer should shorten it because among them there are the sick, the weak and the needy (having some jobs to do).

- (Sahih Bukhari- book 3, hadith 90)


* * *


Narrated Abu Sa`id Al−Khudri: Once Allah's Apostle went out to the Musalla (to offer the prayer) of `Id−al−Adha or Al−Fitr prayer. Then he passed by the women and said, "O women! Give alms, as I have seen that the majority of the dwellers of Hell−fire were you (women)." They asked, "Why is it so, O Allah's Apostle ?" He replied, "You curse frequently and are ungrateful to your husbands. I have not seen anyone more deficient in intelligence and religion than you. A cautious sensible man could be led astray by some of you." The women asked, "O Allah's Apostle! What is deficient in our intelligence and religion?" He said, "Is not the evidence of two women equal to the witness of one man?" They replied in the affirmative. He said, "This is the deficiency in her intelligence. Isn't it true that a woman can neither pray nor fast during her menses?" The women replied in the affirmative. He said, "This is the deficiency in her religion."

- (Sahih Bukhari - book 6, hadith 301)

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

doors...

"A warrior, a samurai, a great soldier, came to a Zen master and he asked "Is there any hell, is there any heaven? If there is hell and heaven, where are the gates? Where do I enter from? How can I avoid hell and choose heaven?"

He was a simple warrior. He had not come to learn any doctrine. He wanted to know where the gate was so he could avoid hell and enter heaven. And Hakuin replied in a way only a warrior could understand.

What did Hakuin do? He said, "Who are you?" And the warrior replied, "I am a samurai."

It is a thing of much pride to be a samurai in Japan. It means being a perfect warrior. He said, "I am a samurai, I am a leader of samurais. Even the emperor pays respect to me."

Hakuin laughed and said, " You, a samurai? You look like a beggar."

The samurai's pride was hurt, his ego hammered. He forgot what he had come for. He took out his sword and was just about to kill Hakuin. He forgot that he had come to this master to ask where is the gate of heaven, to ask where is the gate of hell.

Hakuin laughed and said, "This is the gate of hell. With this sword, this anger, this ego, here opens the gate." This is what a warrior can understand. Immediately he understood: This is the gate. He put his sword back in its sheath. And Hakuin said, "Here opens the gate of heaven."

Hell and heaven are within you, both gates are within you. When you are behaving unconsciously there is the gate of hell; when you become alert and conscious, there is the gate of heaven.

Silence is the door. Inner peace is the door. Nonviolence is the door. Love and compassion are the doors."

- (quoted by ZahretElNur)

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

love...

"You and I can have a lot of theories about it, but actually, that is the thing that we call love? There is pleasure, sexual pleasure, in which there is jealousy, the possessive factor, the dominating factor, the desire to possess, to hold, to control, to interfere with what another thinks. Knowing all the complexity of this, we say that there must be love that is divine, that is beautiful, untouched, uncorrupted; we meditate about it and get into a devotional, sentimental, emotional attitude, and are lost. Because we can't fathom this human thing called love we run away into abstractions that have absolutely no validity at all."
- J. Krishnamurthi
(On Relationship)

Sunday, March 21, 2010

more honest...

'Barely had hey settled down, than he had looked at her, placed his fingers lightly over her hand and said, 'I want to make love to you.'
Recalling the moment, she said, 'I was so taken aback. I thought I hadn't heard it right. So I said, "I beg your pardon?"

Slowly and seriously he had repeated it again.
'You must be crazy. I don't even know you,' she'd said.
'I know. But I had to tell you. I think it is more honest that way.' '

- (Socialite Evenings)

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Discounted prayers


"Narrated Abu Dhar: Allah's Apostle said, "While I was at Mecca the roof of my house was opened and Gabriel descended, opened my chest, and washed it with Zamzam water. Then he brought a golden tray full of wisdom and faith and having poured its contents into my chest, he closed it. Then he took my hand and ascended with me to the nearest heaven, when I reached the nearest heaven, Gabriel said to the gatekeeper of the heaven, 'Open (the gate).' The gatekeeper asked, 'Who is it?' Gabriel answered: 'Gabriel.' He asked, 'Is there anyone with you?' Gabriel replied, 'Yes, Muhammad is with me.' He asked, 'Has he been called?' Gabriel said, 'Yes.' So the gate was opened and we went over the nearest heaven and there we saw a man sitting with some people on his right and some on his left. When he looked towards his right, he laughed and when he looked toward his left he wept. Then he said, 'Welcome! O pious Prophet and pious son.' I asked Gabriel, 'Who is he?' He replied, 'He is Adam and the people on his right and left are the souls of his offspring. Those on his right are the people of Paradise and those on his left are the people of Hell and when he looks towards his right he laughs and when he looks towards his left he weeps.' Then he ascended with me till he reached the second heaven and he (Gabriel) said to its gatekeeper, 'Open (the gate).' The gatekeeper said to him the same as the gatekeeper of the first heaven had said and he opened the gate.
Anas said: "Abu Dhar added that the Prophet met Adam, Idris, Moses, Jesus and Abraham. He (Abu Dhar) did not mention on which heaven they were but he mentioned that he (the Prophet ) met Adam on the nearest heaven and Abraham on the sixth heaven." Anas said, "When Gabriel along with the Prophet passed by Idris, the latter said, 'Welcome! O pious Prophet and pious brother.' The Prophet asked, 'Who is he?' Gabriel replied, 'He is Idris." The Prophet added, "I passed by Moses and he said, 'Welcome! O pious Prophet and pious brother.' I asked Gabriel, 'Who is he?' Gabriel replied, 'He is Moses.' Then I passed by Jesus and he said, 'Welcome! O pious brother and pious Prophet.' I asked, 'Who is he?' Gabriel replied, 'He is Jesus. Then I passed by Abraham and he said, 'Welcome! O pious Prophet and pious son.' I asked Gabriel, 'Who is he?' Gabriel replied, 'He is Abraham. The Prophet added, 'Then Gabriel ascended with me to a place where I heard the creaking of the pens.' "
Ibn Hazm and Anas bin Malik said: The Prophet said, "Then Allah enjoined fifty prayers on my followers. When I returned with this order of Allah, I passed by Moses who asked me, 'What has Allah enjoined on your followers?' I replied, 'He has enjoined fifty prayers on them.' Moses said, 'Go back to your Lord (and appeal for reduction) for your followers will not be able to bear it.' (So I went back to Allah and requested for reduction) and He reduced it to half. When I passed by Moses again and informed him about it, he said, 'Go back to your Lord as your followers will not be able to bear it.' So I returned to Allah and requested for further reduction and half of it was reduced. I again passed by Moses and he said to me: 'Return to your Lord, for your followers will not be able to bear it. So I returned to Allah and He said, 'These are five prayers and they are all (equal to) fifty (in reward) for My Word does not change.' I returned to Moses and he told me to go back once again. I replied, 'Now I feel shy of asking my Lord again.' Then Gabriel took me till we reached Sidrat−il−Muntaha (Lote tree of the utmost boundary of the seventh heaven) which was shrouded in colors, indescribable. Then I was admitted into Paradise where I found small walls of pearls and its earth was of musk." "

- (Sahih Bukhari: book 8, hadith 345)

Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Definitive Book of Body Language

Title: The Definitive Book of Body Language
Authors: Allan & Barbara Pease
ISBN: 978-0-7528-5878-4

Publ: Orion



Observation! That's the keyword. As far as I can recollect, there have been only four times in my entire life so far that I have been so strongly reminded about the importance of this word.

The first time was by Gerald Durrell in my primary school. There was this lesson in the English textbook about animals and birds. It was about their lifestyle, how they make their nests and houses etc. written based on pure observation. I was really very fascinated by the entire narration. I don't remember how many times I reread the chapter. And I was deeply ashamed too for I used to spend countless number of hours playing beneath the shade of those huge trees at the ashram-like backyard of my ancestral home filled with a wide range of animal and bird species and yet never bothered to spend even as little as five minutes to sit and observe and try to know something about those creatures that included squirrels and rodents (and once i spotted even a large yellow snake) and a wide range of birds from the common crow to the parrot, from the house sparrow to the eagle and many other species of which I don't know the names, including the bluish-black & white feathered bird which was so common around there, not to mention the numerous families of bugs and tiny creeping things. Had I been interested I could have observed these lively beings in my own little way, if not as elaborately as Gerald Durrell. But I never did it even once. Nevertheless I felt how enjoyable it would be to watch these creatures and make notes on them. Anyway the lesson got me thinking that all of a sudden, as if some revelation had descended upon me, I became aware of the bewitchingly fabulous world that surrounded us all every day, every moment, so prominent and conspicuous that we see it yet fail to really see anything at all.

The second instance was when I was in high school when I got really addicted to Sherlock Holmes stories, and started prowling in the yard scrupulously looking for microscopic details in everything like the guy in the Karamchand serial which used to be aired on Doordarshan back in that zamana. And I remember how thrilled I was when I could finally spot as a result of painstaking effort and perseverance a set of new, strange footsteps in the sand that were pretty indistinct and not from any of the footwears that belonged to our house. There are not many characters in litearture that earned more credits than their authors. Even the Pease couple has started the introduction of this book with a Holmes quote:

"By a man's fingernails, by his coat-sleeve, by his boots, by his
trouser-knees, by the calluses of his forefinger and thumb, by his expression,
by his shirt-cuffs, by his movements - by each of these things a man's calling
is plainly revealed. That all united should fail to enlighten the competent
enquirer in any case is almost inconceivable."
- Sherlock Holmes


The third instance was when in college I started reading the novels of the Malayalam writer Khalid. I noticed his peculiar style of narration. He follows an elaborately descriptive style. He starts by describing the minute details of a place, the persons in the place and the things around them. That is how he neatly creates the foundation of a scene. And from there flows out the story. It was interesting to read those stories paying attention to this special characteristic of watchfulness in the act of story-telling.

And now for the fourth time, I have been made to reflect once again, by a book, upon the power of observation and that how enjoyable the very act of observing things could be.


The third chapter of Charles Dickens's A Tale of Two Cities starts thus:

"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted
to be that profound secret and mystery to every other. A solemn consideration,
when I enter a great city by night, that every one of those darkly clustered
houses encloses its own secret; that every room in every one of them encloses
its own secret; that every beating heart in the hundreds of thousands of breasts
there, is, in some of its imaginings, a secret to the heart nearest it! Something
of the awfulness, even of Death itself, is referable to this. No more can I turn
the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time to read it
all. No more can I look into the depths of this unfathomable water, wherein, as
momentary lights glanced into it, I have had glimpses of buried treasure and
other things submerged. It was appointed that the book should shut with a
spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read but a page. It was appointed that
the water should be locked in an eternal frost, when the light was playing on
its surface, and I stood in ignorance on the shore. My friend is dead, my
neighbour is dead, my love, the darling of my soul, is dead; it is the
inexorable consolidation and perpetuation of the secret that was always in that
individuality, and which I shall carry in mine to my life's end. In any of the
burial-places of this city through which I pass, is there a sleeper more
inscrutable than its busy inhabitants are, in their innermost personality, to
me, or than I am to them? As to this, his natural and not to be alienated
inheritance, the messenger on horseback had exactly the same possessions as the
King, the first Minister of State, or the richest merchant in London. So with the
three passengers shut up in the narrow compass of one lumbering old mail coach;
they were mysteries to one another, as complete as if each had been in his own
coach and six, or his own coach and sixty, with the breadth of a county between
him and the next."

- (A Tale of Two Cities)

But this book, The Definitive Book of Body Language, says otherwise. However closed a person appears to be, their countenance, gestures, movements of body parts, idiosyncrasies, attire, and many other factors which include a lot of subtle details disclose their innermost and most vigilantly guarded secrets and intentions and many things about their character to you even without they themsleves knowing of it, but only if you have an exceptionally watchful eye. This is an A to Z book on body language, with comprehensive yet in-depth analysis of each and every aspect of it and discussing many topics in relation to it. The facet that interested me most is the importance of taking cultural differences into account while trying to decipher a person's body language when he/she is from a totally different geographic region who grew up with a set of etiquette rules entirely different from yours, because that helped me get a better understanding of certain experiences I have had as an expatriate from different peoples.

The picture is vivid in my memory of my old Egyptian friend Mohammed's eyes turning red with anger and his shouting at me just because I had sat near him with one of my legs folded and placed on the thigh of the other near to the knee (which constituted something like a figure of four). It took me by extreme surprise as he was perhaps the only pious muslim I knew in Saudi Arabia then to whom I could openly talk about my disbelief in the religion and even make 'sacreligious' observations and yet get away without being harmed in anyway or reported to the Religious Police or betrayed. I didn't get what was it in my actions that drove him so intolerant and furious. A little later, still not fully out of his chagrin, he asked me:"Why do you show your shoe's sole to me?, Would you like it if someone does the same to you?" I was more surprised hearing this. Why would I feel bad if someone sits beside me with his one leg folded over the other? Was that such a big crime? I was only confused. It took me very long to learn that for an arab, being thrusted upon by a display of shoes worn on one's foot, especially their soles, is one of the greatest insults. Years later, I see that this book makes the same observation. Also, it's not so long ago that the media discussed this matter when the Iraqi journalist Muntadar al-Zaidi tried to offer George W. Bush what he believed to be what the then US President deserved - his shoes, that too a full pair. The greatest insult. (See the you-tube video).


Another tidbit of information from this book regarding the figure-four leg-cross: "During the Second World War, the Nazis kept a lookout for the Figure Four as anyone using it was clearly not German or had spent time in the USA." The figure-four leg-cross is mostly American or of a people who have been Americanised in some way. The British people and other Europeans and even Asians with their influences basically show a tendency for placing thigh on thigh, with closed crotch, and foot dangling down, which forms an entirely different posture from the figure-four.

Yet another experience in Saudi Arabia was when I was new there. My Arab boss was coming from the other end of the long corridor. I was at the opposite dimly lit end with my friend John Samuel. My boss's eyes were fixed on me, and apparently he saw something wrong in me. Somehow I understood that he was not happy with my not greeting him 'Good morning'. But how could I greet 'Good morning' in that situation? Should I shout out 'GOOD MORNING SIR!' so that my boos could hear it from the other end of the 100 metre long corridor? It is not good manners. The other option was to just move your lips as if you were uttering 'Good morning Sir' and at the same time bow a bit to show respect. But I was sure he would fail to notice the gesture emanating from a poorly lit far end of the corridor. I was perplexed. Then John my friend asked me to raise my hand to greet 'Salam'. I looked at him confused because that was a gesture used among friends, or by superiors to inferiors. How could I greet my boss that way? But John prodded me forcefully from behind, and my right hand rose up in a sudden refelx action with an open palm as if I was a Congress party leader standing in a slowly rolling open vehicle greeting his voters. I was waiting to see the result of this John-induced 'insult' to my boss. To my amazement his face beamed like anything and he too raised his hand in the Congress greeting to return the salutation. It was considered the most common and the most basic way of greeting among Arabs, irrespective of the age difference of the people involved. My salam was supposed to be a signal of respect towards my boss, whereas it was deemed very disrespectful by one of my uncle's freinds and some others when after my long stay in Saudi Arabia I returned home and continued extending the same greeting to elders around me out of inertia, because in my place, it was a way of greeting among friends and acquaintances of the same age group or from an elder person to a younger one!

Yet another interesting example as to how variations in bodily expressions from place to place can create misunderstanding and confusion was my encounter with a Filipina colleague who, though unintentionally, damaged a part of an equipment because of improper handling. I was trying to explain to her the correct steps to use the gadget and in certain places i was pointing my finger towards her to complement the word 'you'. Within no time she burst out like a volcano, warning me seriously, "Don't point your finger at me!". Perhaps she thought I was trying to blame her by pointing my finger to her for damaging the machine, even though I didn't have the least intention to. That's what I thought then. But the truth turned out to be graver. And it took so long. I had to read this book after so many years to know what the Filipina girl meant. In Filipino etiquette, the gesture of pointing your finger is only meant for animals!! At least that is what this book says! Perhaps that is also the reason why they, instead of using a finger, purse their lips as if to form the shape of a pointed finger and points with it to the direction of the way when you lose your way and ask them for directions? But a person who is not familiar with such Filipino nuances in communicating, for example, an Indian male, who happens to have such an experience from a Filipina girl might think her only to be signalling a kiss with her lips which might make him feel she is somehow interested in him and is giving a discreet invitation to her bed.

A serious thought that flashed across my mind while reading the book was about people who act in films. Like anyone else, they too, as individuals must invariably have their own characteristic gestures and body language strongly indicative of their personal character, about which neither they themselves nor the film director may be aware. Couldn't it be that these personal, outward physical traits are sometimes in clash with the character they play in the movie they act in? Couldn't it be that even when a layman like me and numerous others say that a film was superb in craft and cast and direction and all, there could be people who are very well versed in reading body language who could find countless flaws in the movie and thus find it imperfect, as far as the bodily movements of the characters are concerned in contrast to what they utter, especially in Malayalam movies where even the tiniest of movements and appearance of actors are very closely watched and scrutinised and each actor/actress is identified with his/her signature gestures, thanks to the widespread craze and success of the art of mimicry?

Well, so the book tells us, from cover to cover, of the importance of observing people to discern from their faces, appearance, attire, movements, and gestures, what is there in their minds. But I've come across a different kind of observation, or to be more correct, observation aiming at something else, which is not touched upon in the book. What I'm talking about is not observing the person's face in order to know what he/she is hiding in the heart, but observing for the sake of identifying the person herself in the first place, hiding behind a black burqah that covers her from head to toe, including the face. And it becomes a hard necessity when your job demands official interaction with a bunch of such people, who work in the same organisation as you, on a daily basis. My time in Saudi Arabia taught me how to do it efficiently, and I guess I'm a master in the art :) Otherwise, how was I to survive in the middle of people like Tahani, Yasmine, Jameela, Hind(not rhyming with 'mind', but with 'Sindh'), Zahra, Maryam, Hanan and Faiza? But honestly, I don't think it's a big deal. You would learn in no time to tell Yasmine from Hind even when you see her at the other end of a 100 metre long corridor, because it forms a part of your job, and you can't survive unless you learn your job. Eventhough initially you have to make a conscious effort to remember certain factors about each person that help you in identifying the person behind the cover, gradually you become so used to it that you feel that someone sitting inside you is telling you that the girl near the pillar talking hurriedly on her mobile is none other than Tahani and the one waiting near her impatiently(oh yeah, you would also learn to perceive that the person is impatient, even without seeing her facial expressions!) for the conversation to finish is her friend Zahra, and almost 100% of the times, the guess turns out to be incredibly right. It is like when you move to a new home and lose your way on the first day when you return from office, and thereafter you consciously try to remember that your house is the third one after the two similar looking buildings and just before that awkward looking tree near to the big rock and the turning leading to the open ground at the other end. But gradually your brain records all these details so indelibly that even if your mind is wandering in a dreamland, you car doesn't forget to turn at the right bends and finally stop in front of the right building. So, what are the factors that help you distinguish a woman from her fully-covered appearance? There are plenty, in fact. The height of the person, the kind of physique, the gait, the voice, accent, and characteristic expressions in speech (if she talks to you), the kind of glasses she wears(in the case of persons wearing glasses), the colour of the eye (as the niqab mostly have a slit for the eyes and thus the eyes are visible, though the rest of the face is covered), the visible portion around the eyes, the kind of fabric and border designs etc. of the burqah (eventhough all the black-clad girls look alike in the first look, if you observe keenly enough you'll find each shrouded form is amazingly different from any other), the style of hijab and naqab and the way they wear them (The abaya(burqah), naqab, hijab etc. have their countless variations in style and endless ranges of trends in fashion, though to an outsider all look alike!), their hands, fingers, and fingernails and any ornament worn thereon (unless a pair of black gloves is worn), the kind of wristwatch they use(when it is revealed by the slipping back of the edge of the sleeve at the wrist when they move their arms), the kind of handbags and gadgets they carry or handle regularly like the mobile phones, any characteristic gestures and body movements etc. And what's more, I've felt that the girls themselves make a conscious effort to maintain a fixed form of themselves, which constitutes a set of some or all of the factors mentioned above or more (of which some are natural and some are deliberately maintained), so as not to confuse others and thus save trouble for others and themselves. Such a 'fixed form' of someone appears as normal as any other person who never covers her face, and distinguishing the person is never a task. That's why the below picture, though appearing funny to many around the world who have never had any close interaction with such people and their culture, fails to elicit laughter in me. The women who are posing for the photograph (including the non-Arab maid whose face is uncovered) or the man who photographs them are in earnest, they don't think they are doing something funny. I'm sure the kinsfolk of the women would tell one woman from the other in the photograph the same way they do when their faces are uncovered.



(On a happy note, I've been lucky to see the uncovered faces of Yasmine, Zahra and Hind. I consider myself highly privileged as Saudi girls normally never show their faces to others :) )

And finally, some interesting tidbits from the book:
. Seven out of ten people cross their left arm over their right. Evidence suggests that this may well be a genetic gesture that cannot be changed.

. Most men put on a coat right arm first; most women put it on left arm first. This shows that men use their left brain hemisphere for this action while women use the right hemisphere.

. The head-shaking gesture signals 'no' and owes its origin to breastfeeding. When a baby has had enough milk, it turns its head from side to side to reject it's mother's breast.

. In most cultures the Head Nod is used to signify 'Yes' or agreement. In India, the head rocked from side to side, called the Head Wobble signals 'Yes', which is confusing for westerners as it means to them 'Maybe yes - maybe no'. In Japan head nodding doesn't necessarily mean 'Yes, I agree' - it usually means 'Yes, I hear you'.

. Hasta la vista (Spanish) means 'See you later'.

. Studies show that not only a man's nose is inflated by increased blood pressure when he tells a lie, but his penis swells too.

. Brain scans reveal that men can feel emotion as strongly as women, but avoid showing it publicly.

. Bottle-fed babies are three times more likely to become smokers than breast-fed babies.

. Men have 10 to 20 times more testosterone than women, which makes them see the world in terms of sex.

. Women have dramatically more nerve sensors for experiencing touch than men, making them more sensitive to touch sensations.

. Marilyn Monroe reputedly chopped three-quarters of an inch (2 cm) off the heal of her left shoe to emphasise her wiggle.

. Women are, on average, 2 inches (5 cm) shorter than men.



Book, courtesy of Maisa