Shantaram

Source of picture: Socceraholic

"It is forgiveness that makes us what we are. Without forgiveness, our species would've annihilated itself in endless retributions. Without forgiveness, there would be no history. Without that hope, there would be no art, for every work of art is in some way an act of forgiveness. Without that dream, there would be no love, for every act of love is in some way a promise to forgive. We live on because we can love, and we love because we can forgive."

If there is one thing I hope for those who live in a perpetual state of discomfort, it is for the opportunity to find something or someone that changes their life for the better. Shantaram was my holy grail and it is by far the most soul inspiring book I've read to date. I urge everyone to find the time to read its many pages of Sufi wisdom, hope and faith. It took me just over a year to complete it but patience shouldn't be a terrible burden on those who want to read of stories great and grand. This book brings the meaning and importance of life, love, war, and friendship to untapped aspects of our hearts and souls.

It was difficult to choose just one quote to put at the beginning of this post. I settled on a passage Gregory David Roberts wrote anecdotally of being in a notorious Indian prison. He faced a wealth of terrible situations that were enough to destroy a human's mind and physical being. It was here that he gave great emphasis to the concept of 'forgiveness'. His many battles had taught him something fundamental about himself - not necessarily discovering it in the immediate aftermath of his consequences but in his conversations and connections with acquaintances, lovers, and other like-minded Indian companions who faced similar circumstances, or worse. And that is: forgiveness is a choice we always have, and when needed, acts as a weapon of freedom in its own right. 

The contours of our virtues are shaped by adversity.

As Roberts admits in one interview, a large majority of this book is fiction. But having said that, the basic ideas behind the pages are based on the culture, spirit and heart of India. In addition, Gregory's immediate connection to the country itself attributed to his adapting so quickly - having escaped from an Australian prison and finding himself in the welcoming arms of the Indian people. In times of sorrow, he found he had been blessed. He is able to give great examples of what the human mind and heart is capable of doing in times of distress; how our relationships are forged (as well as broken) with each decision that we make, and how our choices end up defining who we are as a person, a friend, a lover, and a fighter.

After reading the book, I jumped onto YouTube and sought out all the interviews that he gave to the media. My favourite is a speech he gave at a charity function, and it can be found here (it has been broken up into 6 parts but they can be easily followed). Furthermore, I have heard rumours that his sequel to Shantaram will be released sometime this year. I have my many fingers crossed.

*I'm extremely apologetic for the lack of posts in the last month. My internet connection decided to wander off into oblivion, leaving me utterly devastated that I couldn't watch all my favourite American TV shows online.

This Too Shall Pass

Source of picture: hien1234

"Everything passes, and we do eventually get out from under the things and people that have burdened us. More precisely, we outlive our memories of them." - Andrei Bitov

Everything passes. The dreaded harrowing feelings that accompany our pain, our loss, and our moments of weakness and vulnerability. Memory is a powerful thing. We find ourselves reminiscing of better times, when bouts of euphoria are needed in our everyday mundane lives. Or it could have the opposite effect; reliving terrible pain, lost hope, and the toxic habit of replaying the events over in our minds until we collapse into a messy heap.

But our minds don't have to function in this manner. That's the beauty in memory fading. We can utilise its power and overcome burdens that terrorise our minds. Of course, this does not come without struggle. Everybody struggles and more than once, we can find ourselves stuck in the same pattern of sad moments. But we learn  from those moments, we learn to move on, and eventually we do our very best to grow out of the sorrow and heartbreak - with the external love and support that is offered to us. That is something important to remember. This too, and others, shall pass. Always.

The Diary of a Young Girl

Picture found on: telegraph.co.uk

"I have often been downcast, but never in despair; I regard our hiding as a dangerous adventure, romantic and interesting at the same time. In my diary I treat all the privations as amusing. I have made up my mind now to lead a different life from other girls and, later on, different from ordinary housewives. My start has been so very full of interest, and that is the sole reason why I have to laugh at the humourous side of the most dangerous moments." 

My apologies for beginning this post with a horrible confession... When I was made to read Anne Frank's diary in my early high school years as part of the English curriculum, I read the first half of her book and didn't bother with the rest. Reflecting on that now, I feel terribly guilty about it and I should be brought up before a "Literary Board" for disciplinary action.

I guess I should start by defending my actions. Here's the thing. I'm sure those who are reading this post don't need me to explain Anne Frank's legacy... Anne Frank's diary is not only a work of history but it is also a wonderful piece of literature. And with any piece of good literature, it is to be enjoyed and reflected upon at one's own leisure. So when you're 'forced' to analyse the crap out of a beautiful book, attend a class full of kids who don't want to partake in tedious discussion, and be made to read 'so-and-so' pages in one day, one can surely sympathise with my actions! Setting a book of this calibre, as part of a learning curve in a rowdy Year 9 English class, was not going to be a successful manoeuvre by any means. In fact, it removed any sense of enjoyment that reading is supposed to give. And at that time, I was more concerned about hanging out with friends and watching mindless reality TV shows, to give any care for her work. I could apply this to all books that we were 'forced' to read in high school. (Apart from My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult... as this book was set for a Year 12 class sitting an English exam, so everyone had to pay attention.)

Reading her diary the second time around (from cover to cover), I finally had the chance to soak in how truly wonderful her story is. I was able to take in all her hope, misery, love and ambition portrayed through the pages. At parts, joyous, and at others, terribly sad. For me, the hardest part was reading her hopes and dreams she hoped to achieve, once she was able to step out of the Annexe - and sadly, could not be fulfilled. Thankfully, not all was lost. Her dreams to become a famous writer were seen, and the world was better for it.

I remember a question that was put to my English class one day (please don't ask me how I remember this...):

Would Anne Frank's diary had been as successful if she had survived?

Having now read the diary in full(!), my answer is no. The beauty in her work lies with the sadness of her death. We're not able to ask her the meaning behind her letters and must settle for the abrupt, incomplete ending to her diary. World War 2 and the Holocaust speaks of terrible grievances around the world and Anne Frank's diary is a reflection of light to an otherwise horrendous darkness. The faith and hope shown in her writing is something we all hold onto during times of unhappiness - it's a survival mechanism for those in hardship. And the ability to reach and connect to those who read is something all writers try to achieve. It is no wonder that her writings has secured their place as one of the most famous in history. 

Have A Little Faith

Source of photo: strangevoices

"If we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will always be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of 'I could have, I should have.' We can sleep in a storm. ...And when it's time, our goodbyes will be complete."

Mitch Albom has an uncanny ability to express his writings in a very gentle and humble way. The first book of his I picked up was 'The Five People You Meet In Heaven' (now one of my favourites). I discovered I could never read too many texts of what it means to be a good human being. And now having read Have a Little Faith, Albom has added his pages and beautiful quotes to my bookshelf.

Faith and religion are topics I have already expressed thoughts on in a previous post. Albom writes about his interactions with 2 religious clerics who come from very different backgrounds but who now preach similar beliefs. But this book doesn't delve into the gritty particulars of each faith. Instead this book goes beyond the administration of religion and to the fundamentals of it- love, hope and compassion.

No matter how downtrodden or unfortunate many lives may be, it amazes me how people, through the power of faith, are able to find the strength to survive amongst hopelessness and still be grateful they did not have worse. And indirectly, finishing the book assured me that there is a universal belief we all have access to, that can provide those with relief and guidance.

A Higher Power

Picture taken from ninbra

Today on the train, I heard the following statement:

"I don't get why people are religious. It's all fake anyway." 

I avoid the topic of religion in conversation. It is not because I don't hold any opinions on it. It's simply because I believe religion to be a very sensitive, private matter and should only be talked about responsibly. And very few people do. For the purposes of this post, I'll do my best to be one of those who give careful thoughts to their words.

 

I am not religious - that is to say I don't actively practice a faith. I did so when I was younger but my father, a convert, has always told me to think for myself. He never subscribed me the title of a Muslim child. He, himself, has been known to bend the 'rules' every now and again. And I guess it was because of him that I choose not to follow Islam to the core but retain those principles that reflect compassion, tolerance and overall, principles that better me as a person. So if one were to narrow my identity down to my beliefs, I guess that makes me "an ultra-cool-spiritual-being-who's-adopted-a-certain-ethos-from-all-faiths-who-also-likes-doing-yoga-and-enjoys-long-walks-on-the-beach."

Sad to say, not everyone holds a similar thinking. When I was overseas, my auntie (who is, thankfully, a very progressive and reasonable person), revealed a conversation she had with my mum. My mum said to my auntie: "I know I'm not the most conservative person, but if I've raised my daughter to be good, compassionate and to lead her life well, then I've done my job as a mother." I found out later that this conversation was started because my faith was questioned by my family members. All of this, as a result, have left in one or two of them avoiding me like the plague. But I guess that's family for you, huh? (What puzzles me most about all of this is that there is a convenient ignorance on the part of their teachings where questioning another's faith is a sin.)

Even though I am lax in my religious ways, I am fascinated by stories about those who have found "God" but more importantly, if there was a clear moment of revelation. I remember having a conversation with a classmate outside university, last year. She was a drug addict (and a heavy one at that, using all sorts of drugs imaginable) but stopped her addiction when she found God, sitting in the back of her car in a drug induced haze telling her that "this is your last chance, snap out of it". Now, if it was the drugs talking or something else, it was enough to abandon that lifestyle and steer herself onto a healthy path. Consequently, she is devout in her religious practices.

Often I think, I wish I had something concrete in my life to bring comfort. That no matter what hardship I experience, there's someone to tell me that there is an order and cause - and I will not be judged, but forgiven for my wrong doings. To some extent, I feel jealousy towards those who have found it in religion.

If, after all of the chaos attached to it, there's no God, no afterlife, no soulmates, no nothing... then so be it. But for now, I won't tell a 3 year old child that Santa Claus isn't real. If it makes them happy and have purpose to get out of bed in the morning on Christmas Day, I'll let them be.

"Faith is more than religion and social structure. It provides hope, stability... A sense of belonging. The surety that you are a good person, absolved of your sins. The knowledge that somebody (God) loves you, even though they know everything there is to know about you. That life has meaning, that there is some sort of order and justice to things. These are all things that everybody searches for, in some way... and some people find the answers through religion. Which is sometimes life-affirming, life-changing and/or life-saving; and therefore, worthy of our respect." - Laura Valerie, One April Morning  *

* I didn't ask her directly for her permission to use this quote, but I'm hoping she will forgive me for it! Please check out her amazing, beautifully written blog!

The Defeats of Trepidation

Source of picture: theparamour

Fear has always been a fascinating concept for me. (Side note: If anyone is generous enough to buy me a copy of The Culture of Fear by Barry Glassner, it would be very much appreciated.) Fear brings out interesting qualities in humans. Why do some of us let this concept hold us by the neck, while others react with such vigour when faced with daunting scenarios? It's somewhat amazing as to what we are capable of doing and feeling when we are faced against our demons.

I'd like to think that I face fear head-on. While I was still in high school, I remember one moment where a Japanese teacher of mine made me and my classmates sit in a circle and mention our strongest qualities - in Japanese. Our teacher gave us an example so we could understand how to structure our sentences and adjectives. The example she used was this:

"I think Sabrina is brave."

I'd never forget the moment when she said that to not only me, but the whole class. (I hope she truly meant it, otherwise this post up to now will be very embarrassing for me.) To this day, it still stands as one of my favourite moments in high school (although, to be frank, there weren't that many to begin with). To my close circle, I've been to known to stick out my neck for those I care about to the point that I am known as the girl who has no fears. (Yes, I'm slightly gushing as I type this out.) But underneath this thin veneer of bravery, at times, there's nothing I feel more than hopelessness. Other times I feel the need to give up because what I'm facing is hurting me too much or I discover that the results aren't going to be worth my struggle.

Some worrying thoughts arise if I find myself in this position. After fear has been defeated, has it truly been conquered - in every sense of that word? What if those same fears arise again? There are moments when I'm tempted to back down and I admit that sometimes, I'm not strong enough to face my demons alone. Defeating my fears once does not necessarily guarantee that those fears will not return and we might think we have overcome the worst of our pains but the courage and strength really lies in how we handle ourselves when faced with the possibility that it could creep back at any time.

So how can the so-called "girl with no fear" brave each trepidation that's thrown her way? I'll tell you this: The biggest fears us mere mortals will ever have to face in our lifetime lies within our minds. Thoughts brought on by our troubles are much more toxic to us than physical harm ever will be. The truly unfortunate thing about fear is that it will never completely disappear but the only 'ammunition' we have to fight with is our own heads. Fight the troubles in your mind, with your mind. Know that something great and worthwhile lies behind each and every single fear. Stay strong and pack your artillery system with hope and faith. We are not powerless. Fight.