JEWELS (VII)
Life is simple, really A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, were at a reunion and decided to go visit their old university professor, now retired. During their visit, the conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in their work and lives. Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and […]
Life is simple, really
A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, were at a reunion and decided to go visit their old university professor, now retired. During their visit, the conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in their work and lives. Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups – porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain-looking, some expensive, some exquisite – telling them to help themselves to the coffee.
When all the alumni had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said, “Do you notice that all the nice-looking, expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones? While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. Be assured that the cup itself adds no quality to the coffee.
“In most cases, it is just more expensive and, in some cases, even hides what we drink. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups, and then you began eyeing each other’s cups.
“Now consider this: Life is the coffee; your job, money, and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain life. The type of cup one has does not define, nor change, the quality of life a person lives. Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee God has provided us. The happiest people don’t have the best of everything. They just make the best of everything. So live simply.”
On good and evil
A woman baked bread for members of her family and an extra one for a hungry passerby. She kept the extra bread on the windowsill, as sadaqa for whosoever would take it away. Every day, a hunchback beggar would come and take the bread. Instead of expressing gratitude, he would mutter the following words as he went on his way: “May the evil you do remain with you; may the good you do come back to you!”
This went on day after day. Every day, the hunchback would come, pick the bread and utter the same words. The woman felt irritated. “Not a word of gratitude,” she said to herself. “Every day this hunchback utters this jingle! What does he mean?”
One day, out of desperation, she decided to do away with him. “I shall get rid of this hunchback,” she said. And what did she do? She added poison to the bread she prepared for him! As she was about to place it on the windowsill, her hands trembled. “What am I doing?” she asked herself. Coming back to her senses, she immediately threw the poisoned bread in the fire and prepared another one and placed it on the windowsill.
As usual, the hunchback came, picked the bread, muttered his words and proceeded on his way, blissfully unaware of the war raging in the mind of the woman.
It so happened that the woman’s son had long been gone to a distant place to seek his fortune. Every day, as the woman placed the bread on the windowsill, she would offer a prayer for her son, from whom she had no news, for his safe return.
That evening, there was a knock on the door. As she opened it, she was surprised to find her son standing in the doorway. He had grown thin and lean. His garments were tattered and torn. He looked starved and weak.
As he saw his mother, he said, “Mother, it’s a miracle I’m here. While I was but a mile away, I was so hungry that I collapsed. I would have died, but just then an old hunchback passed by. I begged of him for a small part of his food, and he was kind enough to give me a whole bread. As he gave it to me, he said, ‘This is what I eat everyday; today I shall give it to you, for your need is greater than mine!’”
As the mother heard those words, her face turned pale and red. She leaned against the door for support. She remembered the poisoned bread that she had made that morning. Had she not burnt it in the fire, it would have been eaten by her own son! It was then that she realised the significance of the beggar’s words: “May the evil you do remain with you; may the good you do come back to you!”
Death is sometimes fair
An applicant wrote this to a company Managing Director: “I refer to the recent death of the Technical Manager of your company and wish to apply for the position. Each time I applied for employment, I am told there is no vacancy, but on this one I have caught you red-handed because I even attended the funeral to make sure he was truly dead before applying.
“I can remember you saying at the funeral that he will be very difficult to replace. Well, it’s your lucky day, Sir; you have found the best man for the job.
“It is sad that he has left us, but good for me as I stand to benefit from the vacancy he created. For that I shall forever be grateful for his timely death. He always spoke of early retirement and I guess this serves him well too. A deal that benefits all should be the substance of fine business. Ironic, yes, but death is truly very fair. Just imagine, the company no longer has to pay his retirement funds.
“Again, the company will not have to worry about paying me a relocation allowance because he was my next-door neighbour and it will be easy for me to simply jump over the wall into that big, beautiful company house. I also took it into my hands to quickly get a driver’s licence as I am sure the Toyota 4×4 will also be handed over to me. And Sir, don’t even try to cheat me on this one because I even know the mileage reading on that beautiful machine. This just goes on to prove that I am a determined self-starter who is attentive to detail. Amiable qualities that speak for themselves.
“I am sure that after reading this, there won’t be any need for a CV, just verification if I am up for the challenge. For that Sir, I will be sending my pictures taken whilst attending the funeral so you can see how tough I was, and can be, when employed. As for my referees, well, the same dead manager was my referee so we can safely skip that part.
I only hope there will be no underhand dealing on this matter. Thanks for advertising at the funeral. I could not have known that the vacancy is mine for the taking. Yours ever-smiling even in tough times.”