Lessons between the lines of life

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Life often reveals its profound spiritual truths in the most ordinary moments. One day, I was at a stationery shop waiting for the shopkeeper's attention, who was too busy because of the rush of customers, as schools were going to open after summer vacation.

In the meanwhile, a man with his two daughters, looking rich from their appearances, entered the shop. In no time, the shopkeeper passed greetings to him through his nod. The man asked the shopkeeper to show some erasers, lead pencils and pencil sharpeners. The shopkeeper placed on the counter different varieties and brands of the said stationery.

Beside the rich man's daughters were standing two other girls, a little younger than the rich man's daughters, with their mother. They, too, were choosing the stationery which was of inferior quality. Their mother took a pair of each stationery item and pushed the remaining stationery items away from her daughters.

The moment the rich man's daughters took stationery in bulk as if for the whole year, the other little girls looked with longing from the corners of their eyes at the stationery resting before the rich man's daughters. A gloom appeared on their faces but to disappear as they clutched their own stationery.

The rich man whispered something to the shopkeeper. The shopkeeper smiled and offered the little girls some stationery similar to the one rich man purchased for his daughters. He asked the girls to take the stationery as a gift to the first-time visitors of his shop. The girls' faces beamed with happiness. I patted the rich man on the shoulder, smiled and shook his hand.

At another time, I was with my teacher, Qari Saheb, at a fruit shop. The shopkeeper and my teacher knew each other. My teacher requested the fruit vendor to weigh three kilograms of mangoes. The shopkeeper, in his most respectful way, stood up and started picking the best quality mangoes. I found it unusual as the fruit vendors are known for their sleight of hand.

My teacher requested the vendor to treat him as a normal customer and include some low quality fruit as well in his purchase. The teacher advised the shopkeeper that if he wanted to do some good deeds, he should have picked good fruit for a poor customer.

My mentor used to say that a poor customer would usually buy fruit in a smaller quantity. If his purchase includes two or three pieces of bad or rotten fruit, his anguish will be beyond words. Usually, shopkeepers and vendors pay court to the rich customers and seldom include bad pieces in their purchase. The rich customers demand as their right all the good fruit despite the fact that they can absorb the sleight of the vendor's hand.

I have often noticed that child customers are often ignored in favour of elder customers. They are kept waiting at the shop counters. Shopkeepers take them as easy prey and sell them whatever substandard they have to recoup their losses. Parents send their children on errands, and when they return late for no fault of their own, they are reprimanded and sometimes beaten by parents. Without giving respect and showing kindness to them, how can we expect them to be obedient and respectful to us?

Hazrat Wasif Ali Wasif's son narrates that once his father himself took him to a video games shop and allowed him to have fun. The son, caught up in the thrill of playing, forgot that his father was waiting for him. It was too hot and humid outside, but the father waited for his son without interrupting him. It was a moment of realisation for the son. The respect for his father grew immensely in his heart.

Among the contacts in my mentor's mobile phone, 'my number' had been assigned, strangely enough, to the least resourceful man, despite having many friends and acquaintances ever ready to be around him at the drop of a hat. We usually assign 'my number' to one who is very close to us and who will be contacted in case any emergency happens to us. However, his belief was that it would be an utter negation of his deep faith in the resourcefulness of his Creator. All help is sought from the Omnipresent.

The common thread that runs through all these stories is not grand philanthropy but human decency — a demonetised currency in this age of individualistic pursuits.