A few favourites from Kahlil Gibran.

Dr. Krishnaja A.P. 25-04-2013

A few favourites from Kahlil Gibran.

The year was1977. The place was Ludhiana railway station. I was on my way to Bombay to attend an interview. It was at the railway station bookstall, browsing through the books displayed, trying to get one for the journey, that I first glanced at a Kahlil Gibran book with the authors picture against an orange cover. I was curious, quickly started reading a few passages randomly, liked what I read and enjoyed reading it through the journey. It was many years later, only in 2005, that I got a copy of the Great works of Kahlil Gibran, a combined volume of twelve of his seminal works. The writing is magical- relevant to every facet of life, profound or mundane. Gibran's most popular work The Prophet is a collection of 26 poetic essays or prose poems. The philosophical musings given in the form of sermons by a wise man called ALMUSTAFA in the book are spiritual and inspirational as well. He is about to set sail for his homeland after 12 years in exile on a fictional island. The people of the island then wanted him to share his wisdom on the major questions of life such as love, family, work and death. The chapters cover a wide array of topics such as love, marriage, children, housing, work, eating and drinking, clothes, buying and selling, crime and punishment, laws, freedom, reason and passion, pain, self-knowledge, teaching, friendship, talking, giving, time, joy and sorrow, good and evil, prayer, pleasure, beauty, religion, and death. It gives an impression of speaking to people at different stages in their lives. The writings reveal a rare insight into the pulse of the human heart and mind, compelling me to go through it again and again. I love reading J. Krishnamurti, Kahlil Gibran and Osho. Their writings had influenced my thought process and had a hand in the way I perceive life. I first heard about Jiddu Krishnamurti from my uncle, came across his writings and listened to his talks at JJ grounds in the early seventies. The amazing clarity with which he spoke and wrote, the vivid descriptions of nature and the deep insights on life in his books were gripping and made a profound impression on me, in my early twenties. Ultimately, Life needs a little playfulness, a little humor, a little laughter, and that is what I gathered from these three great minds.

We begin with one of Gibrans famous lines from "Sand and Foam". "Half of what I say is meaningless, but I say it so that the other half may reach you".

On Love
But let there be spaces in your togetherness. And let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another, but make not a bond of love Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music. Give your hearts, but not into each others keeping For only the hand of Life can contain your hearts. And stand together yet not too near together For the pillars of the temple stand apart And the Oak tree and the Cypress grow not in each others shadow. When a mans hand touches the hand of a woman they both touch the heart of eternity. Many a woman borrows a mans heart; Very few could possess it. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; For love is sufficient unto love. And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself. If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. If they don't, they never were. Love possesses not nor would it be possessed; for love is sufficient unto love

It takes a minute to have a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone... but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.

One day you will ask me which is more important? My life or yours? I will say mine and you will walk away not knowing that you are my life. And ever has it been known that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

On children
Your children are not your children. They are sons and daughters of Lifes longing for itself. They come through you but not from you. And though they are with you yet they belong not to you. You may give them your love but not your thoughts, For they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams. You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday. You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth. The archer sees the make upon the path of the infinite, and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far. Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness. For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so He also loves the bow that is stable.

On Life
Life is a procession. The slow of foot finds it too swift and he steps out; And the swift of foot finds it too slow and he too steps out. When you reach the heart of life you shall find beauty in all things, Even in the eyes that are blind to beauty.

Faith is an oasis in the heart which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking. When you reach the end of what you should know You will be at the beginning of what you should sense. One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night. Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. Death is not nearer to the aged than to the newborn; neither is life. The wind speaks not more sweetly to the giant oaks than to the least of all the blades of grass. HE who can put his finger upon that which divides Good from evil is he who can touch the very hem of God. Strange we all defend our wrongs with more vigor than we do our rights. Our most sacred tears never seek our eyes. If your heart is a volcano how shall you expect flowers to bloom in your hands? Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars. The optimist sees the rose and not its thorns; the pessimist stares at the thorns, oblivious of the rose. Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows -- then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason. And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky -- then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion. And since you are a breath in God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.

Thought provoking Strange that creatures without backbones have the hardest shells. The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative. You cannot judge any man beyond your knowledge of him, and how small is your knowledge. Friendship is always sweet responsibility, never an opportunity. A root is a flower that disdains fame. Strife in nature is but disorder longing for order. The truly great man is he who would master no one, and whom would be mastered by none. Faith is knowledge within the heart, beyond the reach of proof.

Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky, We fell them down and turn them into paper, That we may record our emptiness.

You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts; and when you can no longer dwell in the solitude of your heart you live in your lips, and sound is a diversion and a pastime. And in much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. A scientist without imagination is a butcher with dull knives and out-worn scales. But what would you, since we are not all vegetarians? There must be something strangely sacred in salt. It is in our tears and in the sea. I have learnt silence from the talkative, toleration from the intolerant, and kindness from the unkind; yet strange, I am ungrateful to these teachers. Strange that you should pity the slow-footed and not the slow-minded, And the blind-eyed rather than the blind-hearted. A truly great man is he who would master no one, and who would be mastered by none. You talk when you cease to be at peace with your thoughts. To belittle, you have to be little.

On giving There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward. And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism. And is there aught you would withhold? All you shall someday be give therefore give now The season for giving may be yours and not your inheritors. It is when you give of yourself that you truly give. For what are your possessions but things you keep

And guard for fear you may need them tomorrow? And there are those who have little and give it all These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.

You often say, "I would give, but only to the deserving." The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture. They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.