Strange Acquaintances

Lessons are not learnt in a class room. Nor do they stop coming when we graduate or post-graduate. This world is an institution, more or less. And we come across people who teach us great lessons.

Some experiences have altered my view of perfection, heroism, beauty and leadership.

I have met some, to whom I didn’t even talk. I don’t know who they were, where did they come from and what were their circumstances but I call them my acquaintances, and they are among my heroes. I want to write about them today:

It was a beautiful evening in San Francisco. The fancy Yacht was swarming with people, all dressed up. Tables were full of a variety food and desserts. I could hardly try a few of them, they were so many. It was so beautiful. Finally, like everything else in this world, that party came to an end. The Crew bid us all a warm farewell. Everyone was happy.

When I got off, and was walking to the exit, a guy coming from a distance caught my attention and I wondered Allah has blessed humanity with beautiful faces. And again I was busy talking to my fellows and this thought was replaced by others. After a good while, I saw the same guy standing in front of me.

He said to me, “Ma’am did you spare any food?” I didn’t know what to say. He moved to the next saying, “Sir, did you spare any food?”

A train of thoughts started. I wished I could have brought food. I thanked God for blessing me with food and hoped I had not wasted any. With blessings come responsibilities. It’s a package; am I doing enough with all I have? That night when I got back, I sat and couldn’t but introspect on my life.

Since then, this guy has been in my thoughts often. I don’t remember what he looked like, I don’t know what his name was but I know he lead me to realizations. And I often pray for him.

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It was 2010. Enrolled in a University in Islamabad, for the first time, I was away from home this long. 29^th of September – I boarded my university bus. On the way it stopped at a signal. There was a man selling newspapers, limping with the help of a stick. He had one leg.  Despite the lack of a leg that nature had inflicted upon him, there was a sense of integrity and a resolve that I could see in his expressions. He inspired me.

I bought a newspaper from him which is always there in my cupboard as a memory. I don’t remember his looks but I remember it was a sunny day and the brightness of his white cotton dress seemed to dominate the brightness of sun.

I learnt that perfection was not what we think thought was. It is not the unbroken, the flawless which is perfect. But the way broken and flawed is put together and carried is what makes a perfect; It is the broken, mended beautifully, the shattered arranged in an order that makes sense. I don’t believe when the beauty creams claim to give a ‘flawless’ skin or the fantastic image of ‘perfect’ fairy tale relationships shown in some movies or the ideal spouse some people talk about. It is as obvious an exaggeration as in the before-and-after-hair in the shampoo ads. 

His will, sense of integrity, determination and hard work inspired me.   

Observations like these have changed my definition of a hero. A hero is not an individual who shakes the life out of everyone, with a powerful music in the background or someone standing on a podium delivering great speeches. A leader is not the only one who is has a high post, conducting and controlling a number of people or those fighting in the battle grounds. But there are heroes and leaders everywhere around us if we look closely, fighting graver battles in daily lives.

All of us can be heroes and leaders of our own stories.