A little bird in partnership with God

It is said that this story was narrated by Sri Buddha.

It happens in a wild forest. Many animals and birds live there peacefully. When I say peacefully, the wild world is always ruled by jungle laws. Still life there is comfortable.

There comes the summer. Birds and animals fear summer. Summer is hot and dry. Dry means, it has no rain and moist. It draws up water from their rivers and lakes. Usually they do not feel short of food, but water is scarce in summer. 

It is dangerous to go for water in some areas of the forest. They are afraid of wild animals stronger than them and men with weapons. They know that men are not stronger than them, but their weapons are deadly. That’s why animals and wild birds attack men from the back. It is the law of their existence. When it came to existence, anything is wild law.

Seeds Never Die

I was a seed; a small one and dark brown in color. I was deformed in shape, bending to myself. I was not handsome. I bore wrinkles on my body. I was hard and looked lifeless.

I preferred loneliness. I talked to none, beckoned not any one for an evening coffee. In fact I stopped eating and drinking after I became a seed. I had distaste for life. I bend and bend and squeezed myself into a deformed shape which men call a ‘nut shape’. I had no clothing except a thin skin in dark brown color. That was enough to protect me for I had no zeal for life.

Once I was a part of a promising stalk of grain, green in color which on maturity became golden yellow. It was such a beauty that all those who walk by stopped and envied us. There in the sun and water we grew and matured.

Maturity is a big problem. My bad days started as I began to grow and ripen. You are cared and appreciated as long as you remain unripe in green color.

The story of a watchman

The watchman I speak of is the night watchman of the ancient days. He is called watchman because he keeps watch, keeps awake, throughout the night guarding the town with its people, livestock and wealth.

Time, during those days were divided into first watch, second watch etc.
Thus the modern wrist watch we use got its name which was later abbreviated to watch.

Watchman is the guard of the town, it's people and all precious things in the town during the night. He never sleeps.

He is an image for one who waits hopefully and patiently for the dawn of success in his life.

The ant and the mystery of the world

This is not a statement on any scientific truth; this is only a moral story.

Our story narrates one of the many strange experiences an ant goes through in his life. Some of them reveal the mystery of the world, while some others are everyday experience with no philosophical insights. In fact all experiences in our life are philosophical statements since everything speak about the mysterious thing called life.

One day the ant was roaming aimlessly. Its stomach was full. The air was calm and comfortable. Since the ant was not used to sit idle, it came out of the anthill hoping to have another look at the world. How far it traveled so far is unknown. The world is a pretty place for a tiny ant to experience.

The Blind Cat

There were two good friends. They were friends since their childhood. Never quarreled, never envied and never parted.

One of them was very intelligent and a multi facet talented fellow. He was nimble in action. He was pure white in color – white as snow. He had sharp eyesight, a brilliant brain and a sound physique. But he was always hungry and complained about it.

His friend was black in complexion. He was slow in action and has not exhibited any amazing talents. None so far has commented on his intellect since no incident had ever occurred worthy of comment. His physique, of course was not bad. But he always showed lethargy to involve in any adventurous attempts. All these characteristics had a sad backdrop. He was blind, could not see even an elephant in day or night.

The Old Kerosene Lamp

The Old Kerosene Lamp

My childhood days were different in comforts and luxuries from these days. Though it dates back to only fifty years, tremendous fast changes have happened to my country during this span of time. Electricity is not a luxury now, but an essential comfort. But in my childhood days electric connection in a house was a luxury and a sign of social status. We had to make some wiring in the house, apply for electric connection in the Electricity Office and wait for three or four years to get a new connection to our house. Even applying for electric connection and telephone connection improved the social status. We also had to go through the same road for a new electric connection.

Before we ever got electric connection, we used kerosene lamps in houses. Kerosene lamps were available in different sizes and shapes made with different materials. Poor people used small kerosene lamps made with thin metal sheet with an open rope like wick at the top. The metal container at the bottom contained 100 ml or less kerosene. The lamp is lighted at the wick. The burning wick emitted light, smoke and the suffocating smell of kerosene.

We were richer than some others in the village. Our lamp was made of glass. The base was round and made from hard glass. Since it was transparent, we could see the kerosene inside. Above the glass base it had a burner made of metal. The burner held the flat cotton wick. The wick was white and clean. The burner and the wick had a removable glass cover. This thin glass canopy had a beautiful organic shape. Some of them bore small colored flowers on it as design. As the wick is lightened, the light falls through the flowers printing beautiful color patterns on the table or nearby walls.

As a small boy, it was my duty to light the lamp every day by dusk. I had to clean the bottom part, the burner and the glass canopy of the lamp from dust and smoke. My father was so insistent that the lamp should look clean. Only a clean lamp can send out clean light.

After cleaning all parts and the tip of the wick, I light the wick using a stick from the safety matchbox. I lowered the wick with the help of a small lever at the side of the burner to the minimum so that it will not emit smoke or will not put off. Then I placed the thin glass canopy over it. That was done with much precaution. After placing the glass canopy over the burner, I raised the wick slowly. This was the moment of the scientist and mathematician in me. The wick is raised to emit the maximum light but not any layer of smoke. Even the thinnest invisible layer of smoke could paint the canopy grey.  If it ever happened, my father will not be happy at the inexpertise on my part.

The smoke on the glass canopy, if it ever falls on it, will hinder the passage of light emitted by the burning wick. The lamp cannot lighten my house. The white walls of my house will not be decorated by beautiful colorful patterns from the lamp. Thus the lamp fails to fulfill its purpose of existence. The wick burns, but no light in the room. No beautiful color patterns on the wall.

It is a precautious task to light and raise the wick to the maximum light and still keep the glass canopy clean from smoke.

Life should emit maximum light and beautiful color patterns around us. At the same time, our life should never cast a smoke shadow on others life.

This is the beautiful act of balancing life.

Professor Jacob Abraham

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Reach out to the unprivileged

REACH OUT TO THE UNPRIVILEGED

This is a story that might have happened in a remote area, in a thick forest, in a rocky cave, in a pre historic era, in a dark continent.

Even if you feel that this story might never have happened, it makes no difference, because the message it conveys is true and eternal.

It is about reaching out to the unprivileged; to those who have never seen or heard of the warmth of light.

A family, under certain circumstance happened to live in a dark cave. The cave was large but dark everywhere. No ray of sun ever entered into the cave. In fact, the forest around the cave never let the sun to peep through. It was thick, dense, dark and cold. The whole area had no days and night; because it was always night. There were no seasonal changes; no spring and summer; no autumn and winter. It was always winter everywhere there.

This poor family happened to be living in that area in a dark rocky cave. The father had never heard of light and heat, the mother never heard of sun and fire. Their children had no other experience different from their parents. They were not sad, not happy, but content with their life. Everything present there were theirs and nothing that was not their posed a temptation.

Sri Buddha, the great Indian saint and philosopher, was enlightened on the cause of suffering. He realized that craving is the cause of suffering.

The cave family had nothing to crave for; hence they suffered not.

They never craved for sun light; they never knew of its existence. They never wished for heat; they never experienced fire and warmth. Their eyes could see in the dark, their body felt warm in the coldness of the cave. Their imagination flew in and around the cave; it had no larger wings to fly far.

Ignorance was comfort for them. Ignorance was warmth. Ignorance was life to them.

One day a man from the ‘outside’ civilized world lost his way and entered this dark forest. He could not see anything and felt freezing. He collected a bunch of dry sticks, bundled them together and lighted it. The torch spread light and heat. He felt warm and could see into the forest. Far in a corner of the forest he saw a rocky cave. He decided to move into it.

As he approached the cave, he heard shrieks of men, women and children and sound of running feet. He smelt human beings. He knew that there were men and women in the cave and felt happy. To find a fellow human being in this dark forest is really a great comfort and hope. So entered the dark cave with his torch made of the bundle of sticks. Their shrieks became louder and the running feet made heavier sound.

He stood inside the cave and waved his torch. At the far end corner of the cold cave he saw a small family, rolled into one, eyes closed, shivering with fear shrieking helplessly. The civilized man from the outside world understood that they were afraid of him, mistaking that he was an enemy. So he assured them that he is a friend and will never harm them. He continued to tell his story, how he lost his way in the forest and told them that he needed their help to return to his home.

They did not turn towards him and they did not open their eyes. In a trembling and horrified voice, they asked him to throw away the torch. They could not name it, for they never saw it before. Their little vocabulary had no name for the burning wonder. They knew only one thing; the burning thing with the man is a torture to them. The light and heat of the fire were pain to them. They could not open their eyes. They were afraid to go near, for they do not know what torment it may fling upon them. They stood far from the light, much far from the warm of it. They ran and hid themselves in another part of the dark cave. They were afraid the light may destroy their eyesight for ever.

The man was confused. He did not laugh at them. He understood the plight of the cave family. He started a conversation with the cave family. A conversation can always bring the ignorant to truth.

He told them that what he held was only a bunch of dry sticks picked from their own forest. The only thing he did was to ignite them. Fire is such a magnificent blessing to man from God. Fire produces light that can help people to see around. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light will never damage their eye sight. In fact their eyes, like the eyes of all other human beings in this world, is created to function with the aid of light. Light is necessary to see with their eyes. Fire is warmth also. Fire produces heat. It chases away coldness of the cave. Fire is comfort.

After his short speech, like a Christian preacher who makes the alter call, he invited the cave family to come forward and experience the fire, the light and heat. They moved not. He repeated his arguments in favor of light and heat. He called them to come forward.

A small girl appeared in the far end. Her family members produced a shrill sound of shock. But she walked slowly and slowly towards the light. She hid her eyes with her fingers and walked carefully with small steps. As she was walking towards the fire, she cautiously removed one little finger from her eyes and then the next little finger. Her slow steps took her to the fire, the light and heat. She opened her eyes in amazement. She looked around to see the cave and everything inside the cave. The man asked her to look out at the trees around in the light. She could not believe that the surrounding had such beauty that she missed so long. She was happy, thrilled and jumped with joy.  She felt the heat, the warmth of the heat. The icy cold, the freezing air of the cave left her exposing her to the warmth of fire. She felt a new life passing through her little body.

She looked back and beckoned her parents and other family members to come forward and embrace the new knowledge and experience. But they refused in fear. Fear is the weapon of ignorance. Ignorance keeps its captives in slavery with fear. The cave family expressed their fear for the little child. No words of her or of the ‘outside’ man could move them. The little girl expressed her despair that they will never come forward to the light.

The man smiled. He lifted one burning stick out of the bunch of sticks and handed it to the little girl.

‘They may not come to us; they may not come to light; they may not come to the warmth of fire. But surely you can take the fire, the light and heat, to them. Go! It is your duty! Only you can do it. This is the purpose of your life.’

The little girl, held the burning stick in her hand, walked back to her family who were still living in the dark, cold corner of the cave. She was holding fire; she was taking light to them; she was carrying the truth.

Professor Jacob Abraham

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The Blind Man with a Candle

I was hurrying. I was walking fast. It was a dark night. I had to go, I had to move forward. So I hurried.

Though my two eyes were alive and open I could see nothing, not even the path. With two open eyes, I stumbled, fell into potholes and missed my way out from the path. It was not a city road, but a dusty path in a village. Night is not a good time to travel. But I had to go. Besides potholes and larger ditches in the path, there awaited poisonous reptiles. The village path belongs to snakes, scorpions and other venomous lives. Venomous lives include animals and human beings. I had to walk safe from potholes, ditches, stones and venomous creatures.

I thought that my eyes were powerful to see the way to go. I was journeying for such a long time following my eyes. But that was during daytime while the sun shone in the sky. I did not care much about the sun that it had anything do with my seeing. We did often forget about the air and oxygen it contained. But as time went sunset fell over me. It became dark everywhere. Still I could not stop my journey. Move forward or die. So I had to continue. In fact I moved forward only because I was alive. I kept moving not to live but because I was alive. It was strange thought, I knew. But it was the fact.

So no stopping. I had to move. I relied much on my eyes for this journey. I took it for granted that my eyes were powerful to see into any darkness, to enable me to see my way. Unfortunately and unexpectedly my eyes had failed. They did not have the capacity to see all by themselves. They need light to see.

Is there anything in this world that can work all by itself? What a bad idea that everything is related to one another and that everything and everybody is indebted to another for their life? I love islands; I love to live like an island. But I have no freedom to swim away from the main land into the ocean to become an island. An island is an island because it is surrounded by the ocean. Damn it! Even an island is not an island; every island is related to ocean for its existence.

My eyes could not see anything without light. So I stumbled against stones; I fell and bled. I fell into potholes and ditches and was bruised. None cared for the blood that flowed from my face and limbs. Could I make it? Stones, potholes, ditches, venomous lives and what else? Could I make it to the other end? An answer was unnecessary because whatever it was, I had to move forward.

How I wished for light! I realized the inefficiency of my efficient eyes. I was awakened to the truth that a path is followed not by my eyes alone but by the light too. I could not travel, not live and not exist without light. I could not survive with myself alone.

Everything was not bad always. I saw a light coming from far behind me. It was coming slowly to me. It stopped, waited and then moved slowly. Even a snail could move fast. I had no time to wait for that tiny thing, but I had to wait because it was light. I thought for a philosophy to console me. Everything has its own time of fulfillment. Man has to wait and wait and wait. Fine, I waited.

The light slowly reached me. I realized that it was a lighted candle held by a man. Why this man stopped and waited as he walked. Impatiently yet politely, I requested him to walk fast to me.

“I cannot, for I am blind”, was the reply.

What! A blind man with a lighted candle! Was he a crazy fellow?

I yelled out, “Are you crazy to call yourself blind or are you crazy to hold a lighted candle while you are blind?”

A smile on the face of the blind man became visible as he was approaching me. “I am holding this lighted candle for those who can see with their eyes”.

It was a strange philosophy, indeed. We walked together. I asked nothing because I was afraid to hear. Yet he continued.

“You have two young, living and powerful eyes. Yet you stumble and fell. You fall into deep ditches and bleed. Venomous creatures bruise your foot. With your eyes, you see not.”

Not bad as I thought. Was he Socrates, Plato, Kant, Nietzsche or an Indian hermit from Himalayas? Anyway he spoke wisdom. I continued to listen.

“I see not with my eyes. My eyes are not alive; they are open with no power. I need no sunlight to see. Day and night have do difference to me. Still, I stumble not; I fall not and I bleed not. I never miss my way. No poisonous animals hurt me. I need no light to see. I find my path as I move forward with every step.”

“These lighted candles are for you, those who see with their eyes. They cannot see without light. They have day and night. Yet I hear them groan from potholes. I hear the dirge of the dead.”

“This lighted candle is not for me, dear friend, it is for you. Move on, I shall show you the way”.

I walked forward to a rising sun.

Professor Jacob Abraham

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