These are just plain opinions; they can be rejected, refuted, argued against or accepted. These words are not meant to impose my ideals upon anybody , and they are not going against the law of the diversity of thoughts~~

Friday, 27 July 2012


                  I stared at the crazy man at the roadside. The guy was shirtless under the blazing heat of the day. He sit at the same place by the side of the road every day, observing cars and people alike. The day was perhaps the hottest day of the monsoon, and we were fasting. My throat was terribly dry, and I felt a constant pulsating pain from inside my head. But the crazy man, he just sat there like the world was his. Like a  traffic officer ,I guess, buy the way his eyes judge the way I drive the car.

         I thought about how blissful it is to be a crazy man. He does not have a need to worry about anything. Let the price of gas rise again or the government loses the general election, he just doesn't have to care.  The whim and fancies of this world is nothing to him. He fears nothing-because he is crazy. Not even angry wives , bad exam results or an empty bank account. His life is just the road and its cars. Sometimes he gets up and yells and the drivers who irks his feelings, for he feels offended at the sight of a yellow coloured vehicle, and rich old men in Mercedes.  Other than that, he is free of all of the obligations of this world.

               I do not know how that guy became crazy. Perhaps his lover was killed in an accident involving a yellow Mercedes, driven by rich old men? I don't know. He got a pretty decent face under the tangle of beard and hair, and a terribly deep tan.  

             One of the best things of being a mad man is you do not have to care what other people say about you. Say anything to him, even the meanest thing, and he would just smile and wave at you like an innocent little child. Call him fat, stupid, and all sorts of the meanest curse words and phrases you can coin. He won't care. He doesn't  have to. He's crazy, remember. The only thing that would irritate this guy is to call him crazy. He insists that he is a traffic officer on duty, not a mad man.

          I am not crazy. I am sane. I am offended by mean words. Why do people have to be so mean? Words are the best psychological weapon you can ever find. You can wage war upon some people, kill their family and put a gun on their head, they won't budge. But if you use the right words, people can change. Even the most badass of criminals can surrender to the cops , when consulted with soft encouraging words.

           Words that you say, my friend, helps to create an atmosphere around us. What kind of atmosphere, you decide. Let's hang out, and try saying some positive words and nice jokes for laughing out loud, that day would be among the best in my life. Let's start with some mean curse words , and slanders, talks behind others, and I do have an urge to punch you in the face.

"No good is there in much of their private conversation, except for those who enjoin charity or that which is right or conciliation between people. And whoever does that seeking means to the approval of Allah - then We are going to give him a great reward." (Annisa' ; 114)

        I am not insane, but some of the words people say can really make you crazy.

        Things that you say are indirect prayers , my friend. You nickname your friend Chicken, and he would really be a chicken some day, sort of. Call me a successful banker, and I will be, with God's will.

           Some things are better left unsaid. Seriously. No matter how mad you are with someone, there is always a better alternative than to curse him with the meanest words you can summon. Punch him in the face or kick his butt , perhaps. I can take that, rather than the words nobody wants to hear.

"Allah does not like the public mention of evil except by one who has been wronged. And ever is Allah Hearing and Knowing." (Annisa': 148)

            Even a falcon punch only hurts the physical being , but mean words stabs the heart, and the wound take years to heal. Never resort to such downgrading words, my friend. This is Ramadan, the time you take to restrain ourselves from saying mean words.

               Our throats are too dry to utter such horrible words. This is Ramadan, for goodness sake, our practicing ground. Your curses make people despise you and your soul, because we are not crazy, and we are offended by mean words.

                If you are an adult, that adds to the severity of the situation. Children listen to you and pick up the word you say. They repeat them, mostly without knowing the meaning. If your choice of curse words is your favourite thing to say, then those toddlers who are with you inevitably become accustomed to use them. Imagine a chubby little kid cursing his mother with your favourite word. You can officially murder yourself for corrupting children. It takes various measures and a freaking long time to make them stop cursing their own parents, if you don't know~

              I try to imagine a world where we can put our tongues to good use, where everybody sounds so nice. A world like the mad man has. Ya Rabbi, what a life~

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