22....SMALL IS BEAUTIFUL

“Small is Beautiful.” Let us endeavor to understand the proposition. If “Small is Beautiful” is plausibly true, does it imply that “All that is Small is Beautiful?” Secondly, look at it in another way. Does it suggest that anything big, bulky or massive is ugly, unseemly and ungraceful? “Yes.” says E.F. Schumacher an eminent economist. I want you to scrutinize the issue and decide the question with your unfailing reason and dependable imagination.

 E.F. Schumacher, a prominent economist introduced this idea “Small is Beautiful.” about sixty years back through his distinguished work.  We have all coolly forgotten him and his intelligent contribution, like all citizens of high ideals. The author while sticking to his principle asserts further, “Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius — and a lot of courage to move in the opposite direction.”  He was totally against large-scale mega structures, multinational capitalism, and anything that is mammoth and elephantine in size and structure. His treatise speaks enormously with reference to micro economic reforms.

Have you heard of Jonathan Swift and his satires?  Distant recollection of “A voyage to Lilliput and Brobdingnag” comes to my wits. In a way, the Author tries to advocate his liking for the tiny and the petit than the gigantic and the monstrous.

You will agree with me that the small is every so often certainly beautiful.

 Say for illustration, your baby and all that belongs to his pretty body; say his blooming cute eyes, his tiny ears, his lovely lips, his small graceful hands and legs, his pretty fingers, of course his  handful bottom with few dimples here and there are all, if truth be told, small and beautiful.

 Likewise, why do you love your pets and the domestics? Like Tito your pet dog playing with your kid, Munna your cat sitting on your lap, Johnny the white rat on your sofa, the pet shrews, the squirrels, the sparrows, the lovebirds, the doves and the parrots in the cage. They are all small and beautiful.  Are they not?

We love the graceful puppies, the playing kitten, the calves, the colts, and the chicks running here and there in your paddock. Besides, the cubs of the wilds, because they are enthrallingly small and temptingly pretty.

Miniature models of the huge and popular structures like the White House, the Taj Mahal, the Kremlin square, are also small and beautiful.  They are. Are they not so? The catchy Japanese Ikebana floriculture lay on a basket, the art of Origami presented to you on a tray and the sixty-year-old oak tree reared and brought to you by a Bonsai artist are definitely and elegantly beautiful because they are awesomely small.

World famous hottest women hitting the pages of the sexiest FHM spreads like Olivia Wilde and Kiera Knightly; Natalie Postman, one of the “Life Magazines 50 most beautiful women in 2012”  and Kate Hudson the latest ravaging beauty with Oscar award  all have stunningly tiny small tits and they are gorgeously sexy.

Yes! They are small and beautiful indeed.

Sometimes the reverse is also amusingly true.

Annie Hawkins Tuner 53, Atlanta, Georgia has the Guinness world record for the world record-breaking breasts. Do you know her size? 102 ZZZ. She is suffering from Gigantomastia, a growth related hormonal dysfunction. She has many life style issues. She cannot stand straight for some time, cannot walk more than a few steps, and cannot drive a two-wheeler, much less a car. I am sure you will agree with me that women with such gigantic endowment are not only confusing and messy at bed but also extraordinarily exorbitant to maintain.

Coming back to men, you would have heard about Jonah Falcon. He is 42 an actor. He says, “keep your private, private, or you get let it all hang out…” Hear him what he says, “When I am fully, fully hard I am larger than my forearm and bigger than my wrist.” He is supposed to be the world record breaker endowed with the largest penis. 9 inches sleepy and 13.5 when hard and horny. It reminds me of a movie I saw a few years back “The Animal.” Yet this is another problem for the bed mate.

Before concluding that, the enormous and the stupendous are sometimes ugly specimens, let us see about men in life or on bed with teenie weenie joysticks. Does the proposition “small is beautiful” hold well there?

21.OUR ANCESTORS CAME DOWN FROM HYDERABAD

My great grand father Mirza Imam Baig sahib was a Qazi in the Muslim environs in Ajanta. The Baigs are the descendants of the great Moghal emperors who ruled  India before the advent of the British Rulers.Mirza Imam Baig along with his six year old valiant son Mirza Khadir Baig, was one in scores who had migrated to Bijapur from Ajanta near Hyder Abad in the mid 18th century on and with regard to a request made by the the Tipu Administration of Mysore to populate Muslim scholars in the southern part of India specially to teach the neo-Muslims there, the Islam and the way of Islamic life, the Quraan, Sunnah and the Sheriah.

My granddad Mirza Khadir Baig was very devotedly a religious man,his entire life was regulated by fixed rules of good breeding. He was highly educated in Islamic theology and literature. My dad used to describe his personality in very high terms. He was tall and lean stalwartly fit and commanded respect in all manners. Apart from his government profession my granddad was an Aamil. Amaliyath was a discipline in Islamic system which, very few dared to practice. This practice was hazardous too as the Aamil could only get his task carried on with the help of the jinns, he could hold under his command by steady practice of this discipline. My grand dad helped all those who had sought his help to do away with their harsh conditions  such as long term sickness, mentally deranged conditions, and conditions of the borderline maniacs through this practice. This he would do free of charge. He was never money minded.

He never sought to practice this sanctified art for moneymaking anytime. To be an Aamil is not an easy job. It was unsafe and risky as the subjugated jinns would always be biding for a prospect to get away, freed  from the bonds of Aamil’s hand. In order to practice Amaliyath the Aamil had to be greatly learned, clean in his person, dress and abode of practice. My grand dad was unspeakably quiet most of the time he was at home learning and improving his art, my dad used to say. After his retirement he took to scholarly pursuit of Islam, a life of spiritual and moral significance. Like a hermit.

"Mil gayi rahath hamesha ke lie neendh aagayi
charahgir ruqsath hue beemar achha hogaya."

20. THE WORLD IS TOO MUCH WITH US

                                                                             

Seize any morning news spread you get your hand at and gaze around for the swift headlines, and just tell me what you get there. You would agree with me, for sure, that the whole life on this earth is all balled up, totally packed up with rattled and fussed up incidents. Yep!Innocent kids easily sucked in gun culture, run spilling innocent blood all over their studying classrooms. Small pretty angels taken at gunpoint and molested and gang raped and murdered for gains.

Bullying gays, hefty lesbians, lusty pimps,mobsters,hooligans, and number one frauds would be seen flag marching on the public highways. Pedophiles abducting small children for their sinful bouncy-bouncy dry runs, half-naked and poor teenage girls traded publicly for one nightstand, baby faced boys covertly hijacked to be fervently shot at the backdoor. Public figures in higher echelon, we see indulging in lowly and shameful aberrant activities in the public places as sacred as the parliament houses.

 Abduction, abdication, dishonesty of the highest order, we see, inherent in every stage of the government machinery. Smuggling, drug pedaling  trafficking,  squandering of the public treasury by the greedy and ferocious hands are daily routine. Gambling to easily amass wealth is the major news feed today. brothers plotting to kill brothers to get hold of their wealth is a daily incident.“The world is too much with us,” said William Wordsworth. It is time we apply instant brake on it.

My dear dad and as well as my devout ancestors had an answer as to how the brake could be applied to this sinful worldliness. To my dad and so to my ancestors the Islamic Aqaaids and the iman were the total essentials on which the whole lot else was to be structured. If there was blotch in either of these two key grounds, they interpreted that the total life was futile and off track. They chose to display that the life, Allah had prearranged for us was provisional abode on this earth with “a purpose and principle.” He has created us and immensely provided us with all sustenance so that we could live a blissful divine life with all his blessings. We are powerless and quite dependent on him for everything. Whatever we think we do here is his doing and that was already predestined. Everything goes according to his will within the framework of freewill and destiny.

This life, dad would tell, was a trying place like a school. The life here is trivial, full of treachery, envy and selfishness. It is just transitory and temporary and Allah would in conclusion evaluate our free willed actions in accordance with the measure Allah has predetermined. To everyone according to ones actions Allah would award as to how one had fared in the school. The hereafter would be an everlasting dwelling where the good and the god-fearing would live eternally in joyfulness and serenity.

For this cause this life on this earth, they taught us, was nothing but a “Maya-like-nothing” and that we should make every enterprise to organize ourselves for the everlasting abode to come; taking less serious view of this mundane world. This ideology would definitely make us to less identify ourselves with this worldly life alone and seek to balance our life in this world meaningfully.

Allah, his Messenger, the Koran, Islam and the Shariah consequently should come before the whole lot else. Iman, worship, fasting, zakah, hajj and a life as per the code of shariah was to be the foremost and most important for a Muslim than anything else in this world. This would make him live a peaceful life away from greediness luxury and sinister courses. Everything else was only secondary, inferior and insignificant. If one says that this was radical and zealous, then we are joyful to be identified so.

19. RAMADAN HOW CHEERFULLY WE GET ONE WITH IT

For Ramadan dad would get us new clothes sewn; coat, shirt and pants for me, for the girls, sharai and Punjabi chudidhar, and mom would be cheerfully comfortable with the dark brown benarsi sari, dad had bought her on the day of her nuptials. Poor dad never had anything new on these occasions, and he would blissfully put on white poplin kurtha and white pajama.

 

Mom would look after repairing the old ones. My sisters would get the old dirt covered utensils such as the copper degh, kabgeer, copper thala, brass handa, large and medium tabakh,  copper tash, brass woghaldan, ceramic ricabees and tashtarees from the dusty garret, cleaned and get ready; exclusively intended for preparing the suhoor and ifthar. The house would be whitewashed, the wooden doors and windows painted with red soil dissolved in water, Rural paint? Everything for Ramadan.

 The naughty young like chiragh chattoo Abul Khair, aadhi kitab Ahmadullah, handi bag Faqir Ahmed and the devout oldies like wrestler Abdulla bhai, beef biriyani bawa moiden and fox faced Mande hasinsah, would form in Ramadan specific groups of friends.  Specific friendship formed only for the month of Ramadan to do salah in the masjid of their choice, to be present at night tha raviah salah, and to go hunting in of tasty ifthar and sumptuous suhoor together. We all in our own way would dwell in to receive the blessed month of Ramadan. We all fasted the entire month and would be remorseful in case we were to miss one or two fastings

 Mom would very joyously get ready the ifthari. Rice vermicelli, which would be my favorite, specially added with raisins cashew nuts scrapped coconut and dry dates along with sugared milk;  Rotis with fried and scrambled eggs was what my dad would mostly like. Razia and Hameed would be impatiently waiting for the kichadi and bhurtha with koftahs at the time for breaking the fast, exhausted hungry and thirsty, still they would not give you an idea about it on the exterior. We all would have finished the ceremonial cleaning “wudhu” and would be waiting for the signal from our dad that the time for fast breaking had arrived.  That was a long felt relief to the hungry and thirsty inside. It is human indeed.

Nasih ko bulao mera eeman sambhale

Phir dekh liya us ne shararath ki nazar se

Hafeez.

18...HAZA MIN FAZL E RABBI

Hello! How do you do? Pretty long since, you have seen me here on this spot. I am sorry! I am late, as usual. Of course.

I do not know why I used to be customarily being late to classes both in the school and in colleges and stand miserably at the door to the classroom with a depressed face similar to a tramp stealthily waiting for his right of entry at a wedding feast. Was always late to the prayer house; just as the mass would close, I would in a hurry, rush into the masjid and would try to settle there crestfallen to every one’s wily look on me. At the weekend party too, when all would be seriously trying to bundle off, I would sail on them as if from a far-off stellar station. Always to discover sadly, nothing left off, neither a drop of beer nor even a morsel on an end course platter to my ravenous hunger inside and added anxiety on my mournful face. I would usually find the host or my other guest friends, already “high’ and unable to take note of my predicament.

 Moreover, at my best girl friend’s wedding too, opportunely I would be in time to get a glimpse of the newlyweds boarding the bedecked car. Nevertheless, by the time, I would happily run gasping and panting (perhaps, you do not know how fat I am, a man mountain!) a few long jumps to say a “Hi! Hi!”, but they would be already gone on a hilarious honeymoon. I would be abnormally late getting up of cozy bed that is what my mom used to say when I was a toddler, and that is true until date. This had been true, in reality, on my first night too and had kept my strategic partner guess awesomely apprehensive about me. Who knows might be she had seen in me a gay, a person into kinky sex, a druggy cheat, or a pimp of the worst kind.

Why is this happening to me? Is a question “Numero Uno”. I am not late by intent.  Nope! I am the last person on earth to keep the friends or foes to wait on me for anything. Forgetfulness, yes, it plays disaster. Days back my mom told me to visit Aneesa, giving a hint that she was bedridden. Aneesa and her family had already shifted to a posh locale. I made a note of it and then had forgotten the entire thing. Finding the note after months while cleaning the drawers of my writing table, I decided to call on the Aneesas. With couple of fruits in hand, I approached their house.

 Aneesa’s mother was on the entrance door and ushered me in, with a unique smile of hers on her face. “Acha hua bête tum aagaye ho, bahuth yad kiya tha bache ne.” she said. I had seated on a sofa where Aneesa was lying close on her bed. “How is this?” I asked Aneesa to which she was giving a detailed account of her poor health. I could hear in the next room Aneesa’s mom laughing wildly then suddenly scolding someone very harshly. She flung the door open all of a sudden yelling “suar jaisi soorath aur Bandar jaisi chal,” this was unheard of her. She was never like this before. She turned to me and asked about the health of my children. I was not married yet, I turned to Aneesa in absolute shock, “Amnesia, that’s it she stopped.

 “You ****ofa***** how dare you plot eloping with my daughter? You have started setting eyes on her money and the wealth she would bring,”..*****! *****!! I had started sweating and I had never expected anything like this in a respected house as theirs. Aneesa’s eyes turned red and wet. Tears rolling she said, I am sorry for her. Please pray for her, she nowadays runs wild roaring now, crying now, and laughing now. “Amnesia?” I asked blinking. “It is abnormal forgetfulness.” Aneesa said. My inside was already sick. Quietly I tried to say “bye bye” in whispers and had walked out of the house. While starting my scooter my eyes caught the glimpse of “HAZA MIN FAZL E RABBI.” In fine Arabic calligraphy on the entrance.