kawaakari

10:15 AM | 18 July 2019

kawaakari: (n.) the gleam of last light on a river’s surface at dusk; the glow of a river in darkness

Someone said something to someone and that someone told me that, “self-righteousness and righteousness are opposites. The existence or increase of one necessarily means the absence or decrease of the other. they eliminate each other.”

A bell rang somewhere and my heart skipped a beat. I was scared. I was scared because I chose to stand away from the crowd by making a lot of decisions the way I did – in my choice of the headscarf, in choosing to expand my spiritual world by writing about it here, in listening to my heart and working hard on Walking Thoughts, in nurturing friendships and relationships the way I do. And in trying to detach myself from those worldly pleasures that could have made me a slave of my own desires. And where did that leave me? To more questions, to more locked doors. But it’s okay. Because no matter how deep, how immense the ocean seems, the shore does exist. Somewhere. And what all did everyone teach me along the way? Kindness. Empathy. Humility.
As a very dear soul sister shared a lovely secret with me, “Experience another human being in his or her very uniqueness. Giving others enough comfort to be themselves will open your eyes and heart to a multiverse of His signs. And you’ll learn who you are in the process.” This comfort to be ourselves is a privilege that our ancestors ought to have left behind as a legacy. But some dreams remain dreams.

So every time I step out of the warmth of my home sweet home, I’m reminded of how every dervish must explore, but must also guard their eyes and heart against making themselves feel better, feel superior at the cost of another human being’s uniqueness. Every time I hear the hymns of the meynas, I wonder if they, too, have time to do anything other than becoming better at flying, and taking care of their intricate nests, and of course, their hearts.

And so I realise every day that everyone is beautiful and there really are no flaws in anyone. There are only scars from falls, wounds from stabs, dried tears of pain. And fear. Fear of losing a loved one, of failing and falling, of more pain. So we’re all beautiful in our own ways. And every person we meet in this lifetime, only adds to that beauty. We’re all the same in our uniqueness, carrying a little of God everywhere we go, sharing it with everyone we meet.

 

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Photo: Aleena Zahid Naqvi (National Museum, Karachi)

 

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