Category Archives: Story
3 things that are essential in life: something to look up to, something to look forward to, and someone to look at. Contentment is the fuel of a righteous progress. Hope is a reward for commitment, and commitment is the journey of consistency. Purpose to see, feel, hear and enjoy the despair and the beauty of your world along your way. Instruct your speech and guide your lips with kindness. Be keen to understand, quick to learn, able to remember; Be delicate to interpret and ready to speak.
So, I went home, hungry as hell;
I started to prepare to cook;
I prepared… I prepared… then I put it on fire;
I waited… I waited… I waited… then I checked;
I waited again… and waited, and waited, then I checked again;
The stupid seeds are still as hard as beginning!
I put it down, washed some rice and put it on fire;
I waited… I waited… I waited… then rice was ready;
Then I listened to my stomach;
I added water to the seeds, and put it back on fire;
I waited… I waited, then I checked;
I extinguished the fire and went so sleep, hungry and angry;
If anything matters, then everything matters
How you do one thing, is How you do everything
One of the most powerful stories I have ever heard on the nature of the human heart is told by Malcolm Muggeridge. Working as a journalist in India, he left his residence one evening to go to a nearby river for a swim. As he entered the water, across the river he saw an Indian woman from the nearby village who had come to have her bath. Muggeridge impulsively felt the allurement of the moment, and temptation stormed into his mind. He had lived with this kind of struggle for years but had somehow fought it off in honor of his commitment to his wife, Kitty. On this occasion, however, he wondered if he could cross the line of marital fidelity. He struggled just for a moment and then swam furiously toward the woman, literally trying to outdistance his conscience. His mind fed him the fantasy that stolen waters would be sweet, and he swam the harder for it. Now he was just two or three feet away from her, and as he emerged from the water, any emotion that may have gripped him paled into insignificance when compared with the devastation that shattered him as he looked at her.
“She was old and hideous…and her skin was wrinkled and, worst of all, she was a leper….This creature grinned at me, showing a toothless mask.” The experience left Muggeridge trembling and muttering under his breath, “What a dirty lecherous woman!” But then the rude shock of it dawned upon him—it was not the woman who was lecherous; it was his own heart.
Do what think is right, not what you feel is right;
Say what you mean, and mean what you say;
If you start alone, be sure to finish alone;
Incline more to be nonchalant, and less meddlesome;
Be candid, reflective, conscious, and visionary;
Hope for the best, but expect the worst;
Remember, to be is to be perceived;
Love yourself, be unselfish, and promote cohesiveness;
- Golden Ratio
The golden ratio is also called the golden mean or golden section. Other names include extreme and mean ratio, medial section, divine proportion, divine section, golden proportion, golden cut, and golden number.
This involves personal happiness and the similarities between our differences in opinions, perceptions, beauty, perfection, modesty, good health, balanced thought, what we see, what we hear, what we touch, and how we reason and think.
This effects how we balance the events of life and how we manage to live and enjoy the fine-tuned universe, nature and life itself. This is also the ability to maintain a constant line of thought, belief, idea or mission.
- Point of No Return
This involves the limitation of time that forbids anything to retain its initial form to infinity. In its lower classes, we experience this in the form of fear of death, the adrenaline in risk, the hope of success, and the loss of wealth or health. In the basic to higher classes of “point of no return”, we experience the continuum of time where if time is passed, we never recover it.This gives most people a scale against which to measure their achievements, accomplishments, and also make future plans.If a moment of an event passes without the event done, consequences are guaranteed and this keeps us on toes.For some, it’s the fear of failure. Some people are aware that if their endeavor went south, their lives would be a series of unimaginable agony with horrifying consequences, so they do everything to anything to push that moment far into the future, as far as possible.
Caring for others, being thoughtful, sex, sacrifices and all other deeds that give us the feeling inner joy and contentment.To some, life gets a meaning when they reproduce. They change completely as if their life has got a new purpose and mission, because they owe a responsibility to care and protect their children.When we feel cared for, looked after, favored, privileged and loved, we may create a utopic imagination that we are where we are by design for a purpose, reason or to accomplish something. That is neither true nor false.
God is the father of philosophy, and we aim to be like Him.
There are five Branches of Philosophy.
Metaphysics Study of Existence What’s out there? Epistemology Study of Knowledge How do I know about it? Ethics Study of Action What should I do? Politics Study of Force What actions are permissible? Esthetics Study of Art What can life be like?
Philosophy, as a pillar of living, reflects in promises we make to each other, oaths we strive to keep, taboos and dogma we fight and fear to break, the doubts we hold, music we like to listen, the personalities show and hide, the wisdom search, etc… etc…
This means that we are either looking to regain some part we had but lost, or we want some attachment to something we are part of. As a result, we develop behaviors such as meditation and religion. Otherwise, we develop abilities like mentalism that make us feel like we are part of a bigger, greater and important plan or design. These abilities fight to defeat the greatest mysteries of time, immortality and our identity.
Other times, we attain higher intelligence and understanding of what is around, above and below us, all in an attempt to unlock the mysteries we live within as a key to the mysteries without.
- What gives meaning to your life?
- The Secret (2006 film)
- Song of the New Earth Official Movie Trailer
- Cymatics: How Sound Vibrations Create Physical Structures – Foundations of “Vibrational Medicine” and the New Vibrational Science
- Sacred knowledge of vibration and the power of human emotions
Consciousness is the quality or state of being aware especially of something within oneself, or the state of being characterized by sensation, emotion, volition, and thought, or the upper level of mental life of which the person is aware as contrasted with unconscious processes.
Consciousness entails the awakening of the third eye, which, scientifically, is activating the Pineal Gland. We like alcohol, cannabis, and other drugs that change how we interpret our perception because they make us see what we don’t usually see, hear what we don’t normally hear, and feel what we don’t normally feel. This means we have another personality that yearns to be feed, hungers to see, thirsts to experience, and wishes to be listened. This is the soul.
This explains why some like monks, martial artists, and others live in total and complete self-denial for the benefit of the greater humanity. They only find the waters to quench their infinite thirst soul by serving their soul through the acts of kindness, humility, charity and tolerance.
At the beginning of a busy week, I boarded my flight from Los Angeles to Detroit and settled into an aisle seat, grateful that the client I was going to visit had agreed to pay for first-class travel. A young man in a charcoal-gray suit, with a neatly trimmed beard, hoisted his luggage into an overhead bin, folded his jacket neatly on top of his roll-on bag, and took the seat across the aisle from me. A female flight attendant took orders for drinks; I asked for water. The young man wanted nothing.
The second characteristic of a person with a caring mindset is being thoughtful. By thoughtful I mean that the person is attentive to others, considerate, unselfish, and helpful. When we place ourselves in another person’s shoes, or see things from another’s point of view, and then act for their benefit—when we are being empathetic—we are practicing what it means to be thoughtful.
As the flight attendant was serving drinks to the passengers in first class, the people flying coach began to board. Among them was an elderly, frail-looking man with wispy white hair. He took the aisle seat in the first row behind the bulkhead separating the first-class and coach sections of the plane. When the attendant was finished taking care of those of us in first class, she paused near the man. Looking up, he asked her for a glass of water. The attendant explained that drinks were not served in the coach section until after takeoff.
He persisted, repeating his request again, saying, “I’m very thirsty. Can’t you please get me a glass of water?” The attendant again refused to accommodate his request, using the same dismissive, rather official tone she had used in response to his first request. Her voice had a robotic quality to it—it was clear she did not care whether or not this older gentleman was thirsty—only that it was “against the rules” to provide a simple glass of water. I understood that she was following the airline’s policy, but was nonetheless surprised and somewhat put off that she denied the elderly man’s request. Others in the first-class section seemed perturbed and concerned as well; we looked at one another anxiously, searching for an ally, but no one got up or said anything to the attendant. Suddenly the young man across the aisle from me left his seat, went to the attendant’s galley, and returned with a glass of water. He handed the glass of water to the man and returned to his seat, ignoring the glare of the attendant, who seemed dumbfounded and annoyed by his actions. The rest of us near the old man who witnessed the incident gave the young man a round of applause. Feeling relieved for the old man, but a bit ashamed that I didn’t get him a glass of water myself, I vowed to myself that going forward, I would be as thoughtful and action-oriented as the young man was.
During a trip to India, I was in a taxi in Calcutta, the capital of the Indian state of West Bengal, stuck in traffic. Once India’s leading city, Calcutta has been in steady economic decline for many years. It is perhaps best known for its crowded, fetid slums, rickshaws—and Mother Teresa, who lived there. It is a chaotic, crazy place: the traffic, the noise, the colors, the jarring juxtaposition of the richest of the rich rubbing shoulders with the poorest of the poor. The city is a storm of sounds, smells, colors that assault your senses.
My taxi was inching along a street teeming with people. There was a Mercedes in front of us, a rickshaw behind us, a cow, an overcrowded bus, shouting vendors, and men on mopeds whizzing by on either side. A man clad in rags slept on a filthy blanket on the sidewalk. Through the window of the car I saw a naked child, seven or eight years old, reaching his hand in a street drain.
I asked my cabdriver what the child was doing.
The driver told me, “Sir, don’t look at it. Just ignore it.” I was flabbergasted that he referred to the young boy as “it.”
I said, “No, no. I want to understand. What is he doing? ” Once again he told me to ignore the child.
Frustrated, I said, “Just stop here.”
I got out of the car and, using the local language, I asked the child what he was doing.
He said, “Sir, I’m just seeing if any food is passing through this drain.”
“What do you do with the food? ” I asked. He said, “I dig it out, wash it, and eat it.”
I was speechless. I did not know what to say. I was completely frozen for several seconds that seemed a lot longer.
When I regained my wits, I took the boy to a sweet shop nearby and told the man behind the counter, “Whatever this child wants, give it to him.” He chose a few things, I paid for them, and then we parted. My taxi had not advanced very far and I got in again.
I did not think ahead before taking the child to the shop. It was an instantaneous reaction, much like the actions of the young man on the plane. Having witnessed extreme poverty during my childhood in Bangladesh, I knew that any human being, if they were hungry enough, might be forced to gather food from the gutter. If someone is starving and cannot afford anything to eat, and I can afford it, should I not help? Of course, I realize I cannot help to feed all of the hungry people in the world. But in that moment, it was my responsibility to help that child. Nothing more, nothing less. For that one moment I was able to have a small positive impact on the world around me, just as the young man on the plane that day made a difference to the elderly man.
I believe there are moments like that in everyone’s day, although perhaps not so extreme or dramatic. Metaphorically, these are moments when a colleague, a friend, or a family member has a hand in a drain, searching for something they need in a difficult time, or who simply needs a “glass of water.” Those moments are opportunities to act in a thoughtful way: to be attentive to others, considerate, unselfish, and provide comfort or aid.
Barbara, the wife of Kent, a good friend of mine, hurt her back, and given the pain, went to see a top back doctor. The doctor recommended surgery for a disk problem. She postponed the procedure for eight months, until the pain became so severe that she could not stand up straight. At that point her doctor, alarmed, told her, “Tomorrow morning, six a.m., you show up for surgery.” The next morning he did the procedure.
Kent was in the waiting room while Barbara was in surgery. After forty-five minutes, the surgeon sent a nurse to tell him, “The operation will take another forty-five minutes, but the doctor will see to it that your wife’s pain is gone.”
After the surgery was completed, the surgeon came to the waiting room to tell Kent that all had gone well and that Barbara was in the recovery area. Kent and the doctor knew each other; they had friends in common and sometimes showed up at the same social events.
Kent told the doctor, “Thank you for letting me know that Barbara will be okay. Thank you for also sending the nurse to reassure me.”
The doctor said, “Normally the kind of surgery I do can take four or five hours, sometimes more. So I try to keep the patient’s family in mind. I know that they are concerned and that they worry. So I do my best to keep them informed.”
Then Kent asked him the question that was on his mind. “Did you have the nurse come out especially for me, or is that something you always do? ” And was the practice part of the doctor’s training or a policy of the hospital? In other words, was this common among doctors?
With a smile, the doctor said, “No, it is not a policy of the hospital. Nor was it part of my training. I just feel it is the thoughtful thing to do—for all my patients, not just the ones I know personally.”
Being thoughtful is a two-step process. The first step involves listening: at work, to your customers and your employees; at home, to your spouse and to your children; in your personal life, to your doctor, elders, trusted friends, or experts. A typical study on our ability to listen (there are many out there) suggests that we listen about 45 percent of the time we spend communicating with others. But results of such studies vary widely and depend on the group of people in the study. For example, a 1980 study of United States college students reported that they listen 53 percent of the time spent in communication with others, while a study conducted in 2006 reported the time spent listening was as little as 24 percent.
Despite the wide variations in results, it is clear to me that we can draw two conclusions. First, listening is the communication skill we use most often. Second, we are generally not very good at it. One study reports that the average person listens at only about 25 percent efficiency. A study of more than eight thousand people found that almost all of them believed they communicate as effectively as, or more effectively than, their co-workers. But of course that is not possible; everybody cannot be average or above average.
Whatever the amount of time we spend listening, I think we can all agree that listening is a critically important skill, and that we can do better. If you don’t listen to others, you cannot possibly be thoughtful. Yet most of us do not believe that we need to improve our listening skills; we overestimate our ability to listen purposefully and thoughtfully. We often mistake listening casually to someone speak as understanding what they’re saying. Yet too often we’re thinking about what we’re going to say in reply when it’s our turn to talk.
At the end of the day, our ability to truly listen to others is in our hands. We can all improve our ability to listen.
Listening to others purposefully involves not just hearing what they have to say, but trying to put yourself in their shoes. It involves empathy and understanding. Simply imagining that you understand what the other person is trying to say, without attempting to fully grasp why the other person is telling you what they are saying, does not demonstrate good listening skills. Yet I see this all the time in my consulting work. It is especially true of managers who are in other ways very smart people. They are so busy that they often don’t fully hear what the other person is trying to communicate; as a result, they jump to conclusions about what is being said, when they really only have half the picture. Why? They didn’t listen carefully enough, with purpose.
I have been thinking, thinking too hard. I have been thinking about a certain girl. I have tried distracting myself with fun and boring events. I have tried to get her out of my mind. And then today I heard a quote, that was supposedly intended to make me feel better about this girl, but after I had heard some song whose search has been consuming most of my brain power, my mind came back to this girl again.
There is nothing special about this girl, just that I saw myself in her, like déjà vu. She is around 6 or 7 years, slightly emaciated, and generally weak. I was in town (Nairobi, Kenya) two days ago, and I felt a soft hand touch my left hand, kinda like I still reserve the autonomy to listen, and the fact is, I didn’t. I continued to walk. She followed me holding my wrist, and after walking some few meters, I finally decided to look. It was some young girl holding some sweets up high in the hope that I may buy one. I kindly took her hand off my wrist and told her “next time.” Immediately after, I felt so deeply awful about myself that I looked back, but when I almost turned back, I convinced myself that I will find her there when I am coming back. I usually give out coins to the unfortunate in the streets, and once a hundred. I had coins, in fact I had one in my hand, several other in my pocket, few hundreds, and one or two thousand. I was going to use then to buy some pants.
But this girl wasn’t begging, she was asking me to buy her sweets at whatever cost I feel fair, just so maybe she may add the profit to her savings to buy some food. I bet her mom was around, probably breast-feeding her younger brother. The probable reason I didn’t buy is because I had a lot in my mind, or I just didn’t care, or maybe am changing. My kindness is leaving my soul. And this is frightening to the bones.
I am planning of starting a software company, how will I make it against the great tide of corruption, injustice, and morally ill society? If I can’t be kind to those below me, how do I expect those above me to sign me business contracts? Humility has always been something I have prided myself of possessing, but I don’t feel the same anymore. However, this incident brought me back to my roots, hopes and dreams. I want to start a company to find money to build a children’s home. And a hospital and school for them. And I will.
The quote I read was
“The production of too many useful things results in too many useless people.”
― Karl Marx
This quote implies that excess is harmful and dangerous, and it does not matter if it is the excessive creation of something really good, as even in positive things excess turns into negative consequences. I like the quote because it’s different and twisted, but what bad could happen if everybody loved, cared and treated their neighbor with respect, honor and as equal to themselves?