Today as the Jalsa UK 2013 is about to start , the mind is full of memories of moments spent. This time the focus of these memories is the Jalsa Salana that was held in Rabwah. My memories are conflicted between two emotions, one is filled with the beautiful mements of Jalsa Rabwah and the second is the fire of longing that burns in my heart which is reignited when I start to remember, its like a thirst which cannot be replenished & the reason for that is, like so many others I am of that generation which has not witnessed the Jalsa Rabwah in its full glory. There are a few vague memories, which are blurred by the limitations of childhood. Going through the streets of Rabwah when one passes in front of the different Langar Khanas in every Mohallah of Rabwah one cannot help but wonder at the hustle and bustle these places would have seen and what our elders tell us about. 1983. The last ever Jalsa held in Rabwah, the last time a populous of more than 250,000 made Rabwah ...
It’s so hard to imagine a world without Bhai Jaan, and yet here we are. I feel like I’ve lost my father twice. He was always there, someone I could consult when facing tough decisions. He always stopped me from wavering. Every two weeks or so, he would call just to check on me… “Sab theek hai? Tum theek ho?” I would try to do the same, but he always had the upper hand. I’m trying to remember things about him that I can write down, and I realise that apart from some memories I know very little about him. He was eighteen years my senior, so I didn’t share a childhood with him the way my elder brother and sister did. He was righteous and firm on moral principles. If he thought you were wrong, he would tell you directly, but with sincerity. As for me, he guided me and often pointed out things to me like an elder should. I remember when I was in 3rd grade, Bhai Jaan used to have his coats hanging, and there was always a chocolate bar in one of the pockets. Every day I would eat it, but the ...
What is life but a fleeting moment of wants and despair, of sacrifice, a revelation of desires, a useless exercise of banality imbued in artificial theocracy. What does the soul need, at least a semblance of permanency, which there is none. This is but an existence of perpetual yearning of one thing to another. To remove the shackles of mediocrity one must first accept the truth of one's own self worth. For its one's own self that is the perpetrator of bondage. No one else can take your freedom away until you let them, a mind can be free even in chains. The soul can soar, see light in the darkest pits, can survive moments of deepest despair. All that matters, is choice.
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