Author Topic: Stories  (Read 32721 times)

Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #45 on: May 04, 2013, 10:19:09 PM »
The Magic Horse


A king had two sons. The first helped the people by working for them in a manner they understood. The second was called 'Lazy' because he was a dreamer, as far as anyone could see.
The first son gained great honours in his land. The second obtained from a humble carpenter a wooden horse and sat astride it. But the horse was a magical one. It carried the rider, if he was sincere, to his heart's desire.
Seeking his heart's desire, the young prince disappeared one day on the horse. He was absent a long time. After many adventures he returned with a beautiful princess from the Country of Light, and his father was overjoyed at his safe return and listened to the story of the magic horse.
The horse was made available to anyone who wanted it in that country. But many people preferred the obvious benefits which the actions of the first prince provided for them because to them the horse always looked like a plaything. They did not get beyond the outer appearance of the horse, which was not impressive - just like a plaything.
When the old king died, the 'prince who liked to play with toys' became, by his wish, the king. But people in general despised him. They much preferred the excitement and interest of the discoveries and activities of the practical prince.
Unless we listen to the 'lazy' prince, whether he has a princess from the Country of Light with him or not, we shall not get beyond the outer appearance of the horse.. Even if we like the horse, it is not its outward shape which can help us travel to our destination.
 
From "The way of the Sufi"
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Nagaraj

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Re: Stories
« Reply #46 on: May 05, 2013, 10:53:59 AM »
Wonderful stories you are posting Sri Jewel.

--
॥ शांतमात्मनि तिष्ट ॥
Remain quietly in the Self.
~ Vasishta

Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #47 on: May 05, 2013, 05:59:15 PM »
Thank You Very much,dear Sri Nagaraj! Yes,i love these stories too,they are very beautiful and profound.

With love and prayers,

Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #48 on: May 09, 2013, 07:46:34 PM »
The Way Out


Bees seem to have something like human minds, exactly the same kind of stupidity. The doors may be open, but if a bee is inside the room, caught inside the room... and she may have come from the open door but she will try to get out from the closed window. Not only bees but other birds also behave in the same way. Any bird can enter in your room; the doors are open, he has come from the door, but he cannot go back from the same door.

He starts trying to get through the wall, through the ceiling... and the more he tries, the more desperate he becomes, because there is no way to get through the ceiling or through the wall or through the closed window. And in that desperation, frustration he becomes more and more blind, afraid, scared. He loses all intelligence. And the same is the case with human beings.


One day Buddha came into his assembly of the monks. It must have been just a morning like this. His sannyasins were sitting and waiting for him. They were puzzled because this was for the first time that Buddha had come with something in his hand – a handkerchief. They all looked at the handkerchief What was the matter? There must be something special in it. And Buddha sat on the platform and rather than starting speaking to the assembly he looked at the handkerchief, started tying a few knots in it, five knots in all. 

The whole assembly watched – what is going on? And then he asked the assembly, ”Can anybody tell me: is this handkerchief the same as it was before the knots were tied?”
Sariputta said, ”This is a tricky question. In a way the handkerchief is the same because nothing has changed, in a way it is not the same because these five knots have appeared which were not there before. But as far as the inner nature of the handkerchief is concerned – its nature is concerned – it is the same; but as far as its form is concerned it is no more the same. The form has changed: the substance is the same.”


Buddha said, ”Right. Now I want to open these knots.” And he started stretching both ends of the handkerchief farther away from each other. He asked Sariputta. ”What do you think? By stretching farther will I be able to open the knots?”


He said, ”You will be making knots even more difficult to open because they will become smaller, more tighter. ’


Buddha said, ”Right. Then I want to ask the last question: what should I do so that I can open the knots, the tied knots? How I can untie them again?”


Sariputta said, ”Bhagwan, I would like first to come close and see how in the first place the knots have been tied. Unless I know how they have been tied it is difficult for me to suggest any solution.” 

Buddha said, ”Right, Sariputta. You are blessed, because that is the most fundamental question to ask. If you are in a certain fix, the first thing is how you got into it rather than trying to get out of it. Without asking the most fundamental and the primary question, you will make things worse.”


And that’s what people are doing. They ask, ”How we can get out of our sexuality, greed, anger, attachment, jealousy, possessiveness, this and that?” without asking, ”How in the first place we get into them?”
Buddha’s whole approach is, first see how you get into anger. If you can see the entrance, the same door is the exit; no other door is needed. But without knowing the entrance if you try to find out the exit you are not going to find; you will get more and more desperate. And that’s what people go on doing. In the scriptures, what are you looking for? – solutions. You create the problems – and the solutions are in the scriptures! Why don’t you look at the problems yourself. How you create them? 

Why don’t you watch when you are creating a certain problem? And you create every day, so it is not a question that you have to go back. Today you are going to be angry again, today you will feel again the sexual urge: see how it arises, see how you enter into it, how you get hooked into it, how it becomes so big like a cloud that surrounds you and you are lost in it. And then you go to ask others! You are functioning almost like a silly bee. Bees can be forgiven, but you cannot be forgiven. 

Source: from book "Zen: The Special Transmission" by Osho



latha

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Re: Stories
« Reply #49 on: May 09, 2013, 08:16:04 PM »
Dear Jewellji,

Very simple and clear story. I was listening to a Bagavath Gita discourse when Swamiji mentioned the same thing. He said the answer is in the problem and instead of looking there people go to other places like temple etc., looking for the solution. I did not fully understand what he meant then but your story makes it very clear.
Thank you for sharing.

Om Namo Bhagavate Sri Ramanaya

Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #50 on: May 09, 2013, 08:38:37 PM »
Dear Lathaji,

Yes indeed. The solution is always in the problem itself. We create everything,and then get catch in it. The thing i saw is that there are never problems. It is only matter of wrong interpretation. And things are never the way they look or the way we think they are. We look everything through mind prism,and all that is mind buisiness anyway. And we are entagled just because we are holding onto it,and create even more problems. It is the matter of wrong focused attention and interest. One thing i learned is that mind cannot be trusted at all.

I live this story too,and especially the way Osho narates it.

Thank You Very much,dear Lathaji!

With love and prayers,
« Last Edit: May 10, 2013, 05:45:10 PM by Jewell »

Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #51 on: May 11, 2013, 06:11:33 PM »
Want


There is a very old story about an ascetic who was doing penance in a dense forest. He was sitting with closed eyes and was praying to God continuously. He wanted to gain heaven. Hunger and thirst did not worry him.

A very poor young woman used to come to that forest to collect firewood. Out of kindness and consideration for the ascetic she used to pluck some fruits, bring water from the pond in cups made of leaves, and she used to put them near him. The ascetic was able to sustain himself on these things.

 Gradually his asceticism became even more intense. He forgot about hunger and thirst and he neither touched the fruits nor the water. That poor young woman felt very unhappy and sad about this but there was no way out. Lord Indra also became worried and said that this person is going beyond the limits: does he intend to get hold of the throne of heaven? It is absolutely necessary to disturb his penance.

It was not very difficult to do so because Lord Indra knows the mind of man. A breeze came from heaven and turned that poor dark, ugly, young woman into a stunning beauty. It seemed as if a ray came down from heaven and turned her ordinary body into a golden one. As she was filling water for the ascetic from the pond, she saw her reflection in the water and just could not believe that she was looking like a fairy. She became fascinated by her own reflection.

She continued to look after the ascetic. Then one day the ascetic opened his eyes and told the young woman that he wanted to leave that place and go to other mountains as he has to tread on a more difficult path; he cannot rest till he has conquered heaven itself.

The young woman started crying, tears fell from her eyes. She said, “What wrong have I done that you are stopping me from serving you? I have never asked you for anything.”

The ascetic thought and he looked at her face. He had never seen such a beauty — not even in his dream! The woman looked familiar and unfamiliar both. The outlines were just the same but now there was a glory in it. The body and the features were the same but they were radiant now. She was like the forgotten melody, played again on a flute by some musician. The ascetic sat down and closed his eyes again. He did not go.

That night the young woman could not sleep because she felt happy at her victory and also repentant for polluting an ascetic. She was happy that she had won but felt unhappy for being an obstacle in the path of the ascetic. She felt sorry that because of her he could not continue the journey upwards. She could not sleep at night. She cried and she laughed. In the morning she took the decision. She touched the feet of the ascetic and told him, “I have to go. My family is going to another village.” The ascetic blessed her so that she would be happy wherever she lives, and the young woman went away.

After many years the asceticism was complete. Lord Indra himself came down, bowed and said, “The doors of heaven are open to welcome you.”

The ascetic opened his eyes and said, “I do not want heaven.”

Indra was very surprised. He could not believe that any human being can say that he does not want heaven. Then Indra thought that maybe this ascetic has the desire of attaining liberation. So he asked, “Do you want liberation?”

The ascetic said, “What will I do with liberation?” Lord Indra was highly impressed by this attitude. He thought to himself that this is the height of asceticism — even the desire of attaining liberation is not there. So out of regard he wanted to bow down in front of that ascetic but before doing so he said, “But there is nothing beyond liberation. What else do you want?”

The ascetic replied, “Nothing except that young maiden who used to collect wood in this forest. I want her!”



Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #52 on: May 11, 2013, 06:15:12 PM »
Questions..


A man was sitting at the gate of a town, an old man. A rider stopped, a horse rider and asked him, “What are the people of this town like?”

The old man asked, “Why do you ask this?”

The rider said, “The people of the town I have come from are very indecent. I was upset and disturbed by them. I had to leave that town. Now I want to become a resident of some new town. So I am asking you how the people of this town are.”

The old man said, “Brother, you had better move on. The people of this town are even more vile, more wicked, more indecent. Here you will get into trouble, go look somewhere else.”

The rider moved on. Just behind him a bullock cart came to a halt and a man looked around and said, “Grandfather, how are the people of this village? I am searching for a new residence.”

The old man asked again, “How were the people of the village you have left?”

Tears came to the eyes of that man. He said, “I didn’t want to leave, helplessly I had to leave. The people of that village were very loving. Now wherever I live the memory of those people will torment me. I was helpless, I was in economic difficulty. I had to leave it so that I can earn something, I need to try my luck somewhere else. But I have just one ambition that whenever my luck improves, I will return there. I will reside in that village, in the end I want to die in that village. If I cannot live there then at least I want to die there.”

That old man said, “You are welcome. You will find the people of this village even more loving than the people of that village.”

A man was sitting there listening to all this. First he heard what the horse rider said and the old man’s answer. Then he heard what this man on the bullock cart said and the old man’s answer.
The man said, “You have really surprised me. You said to one man that this village is very vile and wicked, just move on. And to the other you said this village has very loving people, you have no need to go further, you are welcome! The old man explained, “People are just the way you are. Everywhere men are the same. The real thing is your question.”



Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #53 on: May 12, 2013, 06:10:30 PM »
Trust in Allah, but tether your camel first‏


DON'T BE PASSIVE. God has no hands other than your hands. Trust in Allah, trust in God, but that should not be an excuse for becoming lousy, lazy.       THERE ARE THREE TYPES OF PEOPLE IN THE WORLD. One thinks he has to do a thing; he himself is THE DOER. He does not trust the whole, the encompassing whole. He simply lives on his small, small energy, and naturally is defeated again and again and proves a failure. If you live on your very small energy against this vast energy that surrounds you, you are going to be a loser, a goner. And you will suffer great agonies and anguish. Your whole life will be nothing but a long, long misery.       Then the second type of person is one who thinks, "When God is doing everything, I need not do anything. I'm not supposed to do anything." HE SIMPLY SITS AND WAITS. His life becomes more and more lazy. And there comes a point when he no longer lives, he simply vegetates.       THESE TWO TYPES REPRESENT EAST AND WEST. The West represents the doer, the active type, and the East represents the non-doer, the passive type. THE WEST IS DRIVING ITSELF CRAZY. The problem of Western humanity is too much action, no trust, too much dependence upon oneself, as if, "I have to do everything", as if, "I am alone", as if, "The existence does not care a bit about me." Naturally it creates anxiety, and the anxiety is too much, unbearable. It creates all kinds of neuroses, psychoses. It keeps people always on the verge, tense, nervous. It is murderous, it is maddening.       THE WEST HAS SUCCEEDED IN DOING MANY THINGS, and has succeeded in getting rid of the idea of God, and has succeeded in dropping all kinds of trust and surrendering, has dropped all kinds of relaxing moods, knows nothing of let-go, has forgotten completely. That's why in the West people are finding it more and more difficult every day ever to fall asleep, because that needs a certain kind of trust...       THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT IS CREATING INSOMNIA IN THE WEST. People think they cannot fall asleep, that something has gone wrong in their bodies. Nothing has gone wrong in their bodies. Their bodies are as healthy as ever -- in fact, more healthy than ever. But something has gone so deeply into their minds: that they have to DO everything.       And sleep cannot be done, that is not part of doing -- sleep has to be allowed. You cannot do it, it is not an act; sleep comes, it happens. AND THE WEST HAS FORGOTTEN COMPLETELY HOW TO LET THINGS HAPPEN, how to be in a let-go, so sleep has become difficult. Love has become difficult. Orgasm has become difficult. Life is so tense and strained that there seems to be no hope, and man asks again and again, "What to live for? Why go on living?" THE WEST IS ON THE VERGE OF COMMITTING SUICIDE. That suicide-moment is coming closer and closer.
 
    THE EAST HAS SUCCEEDED IN RELAXING TOO MUCH, in being in a let-go too much. It has become very lazy. People go on dying, starving -- and they are happy with it, they are not worried about it, they trust God. THEY ADJUST TO ALL KINDS OF UGLY SITUATIONS. They never change anything. They are good sleepers, and they have a certain calm and quietude about them -- but their lives are almost like vegetating. Millions of people die every year in the East just because of hunger. Neither they do anything, nor anybody else bothers about it -- "It must be the will of Allah!"
 
    This Sufi saying wants to create the third type of man, THE REAL MAN WHO KNOWS HOW TO DO AND WHO KNOWS HOW NOT TO DO; who can be a doer when needed, can say "Yes!", and who can be passive when needed and can say "No"; who is utterly wakeful in the day and utterly asleep in the night; who knows how to inhale and how to exhale; who knows the balance of life.       "TRUST IN ALLAH, BUT TETHER YOUR CAMEL FIRST."
 
    This saying comes from a small story:

    A MASTER WAS TRAVELING with one of his disciples. The disciple was in charge of taking care of the camel. They came in the night, tired, to a caravanserai.       IT WAS THE DISCIPLE'S DUTY TO TETHER THE CAMEL. He didn't bother about it, he left the camel outside. Instead of that he simply prayed. He said to God, "Take care of the camel," and fell asleep.       IN THE MORNING THE CAMEL WAS GONE -- stolen or moved away, or whatsoever happened. The Master asked, "What happened to the camel? Where is the camel?"       And the disciple said, "I don't know. You ask God, because I had told Allah to take care of the camel, and I was too tired, so I don't know. AND I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE EITHER, BECAUSE I HAD TOLD HIM, AND VERY CLEARLY! There was no missing the point. Not only once. In fact, I told him thrice. And you go on teaching, 'Trust Allah', so I trusted. Now don't look at me with anger."       The Master said, "TRUST IN ALLAH BUT TETHER YOUR CAMEL FIRST -- BECAUSE ALLAH HAS NO OTHER HANDS THAN YOURS." If he wants to tether the camel he will have to use somebody's hands; he has no other hands. And it is your camel! The best way and the easiest and the shortest, the most short, is to use your hands. Trust Allah. Don't trust only your hands, otherwise you will become tense.Tether the camel and then trust Allah.       You will ask, "Then why trust Allah if you are tethering the camel?" -- because a tethered camel can also be stolen. YOU DO WHATSOEVER YOU CAN DO. That does not make the result certain, there is no guarantee. SO YOU DO WHATSOEVER YOU CAN, AND THEN WHATSOEVER HAPPENS, ACCEPT IT. This is the meaning of tether the camel: do whatever is possible for you to do, don't shirk your responsibility. And then if nothing happens or something goes wrong, trust Allah. Then he knows best. Then maybe it is right for us to travel without the camel.       IT IS VERY EASY TO TRUST ALLAH AND BE LAZY; IT IS VERY EASY NOT TO TRUST ALLAH AND BE A DOER. The third type of man is difficult-- to trust Allah and yet remain a doer. But now you are only instrumental -- God is the real doer, you are just instruments in his hands.       And you ask: "I love this Sufi saying but I don't know who or what the camel is."
 
    It depends on the context. The content of the camel will be there, but the context will be different. Each day it happens: YOU COULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING BUT YOU DIDN'T DO IT, and YOU ARE USING THE EXCUSE THAT IF GOD WANTS IT DONE, HE WILL DO IT ANYHOW. You do something and then you wait for the result -- you expect, and the result never comes. Then you are angry, as if you have been cheated, as if God has betrayed you, as if he is against you, partial, prejudiced, unjust. And there arises great complaint in your mind. Then trust is missing.       THE RELIGIOUS PERSON IS ONE who goes on doing whatsoever is humanly possible but creates no tension because of it. Because we are very, very tiny -- small atoms in this universe. Things are very complicated. Nothing depends only on my action -- there are thousands of criss-crossing energies. THE TOTAL OF THE ENERGIES WILL DECIDE THE OUTCOME. How I can decide the outcome? But if I don't do anything then things may never be the same.
 
    I HAVE TO DO, AND YET I HAVE TO LEARN NOT TO EXPECT. Then doing is a kind of prayer, with no desire that the result should be such. Then there is no frustration.       TRUST WILL HELP YOU TO REMAIN UNFRUSTRATED, and tethering the camel will help you to remain alive, intensely alive. And the camel is not a fixed entity, it is not the name of a certain entity. It will depend on the context.  OSHO
The Wisdom of the Sands
Vol 1, Ch #2: Trust in Allah...
am in Buddha Hall



Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #54 on: May 13, 2013, 03:44:45 PM »
Dropping The Past

Let the dead bury the dead



Gather courage--the journey has already started. Even if you go back you will not find the old shore again. Even if you go back, those old toys will not be of any help anymore; you are finished with them, you will know they are toys. Now the real has to be found, has to be inquired into. And it is not very far away either--it is within you.

A man who lives according to the past is bound to feel boredom, meaninglessness, and a kind of anguish: "What am I doing here? Why am I continuing to live? What is there in tomorrow?--another repetition of today? And what was in today was a repetition of yesterday, so what is the point? Why go dragging yourself from the cradle to the grave, in the same routine?"

It is perfectly good for buffaloes and donkeys--because they don't have a memory of the past, they don't have any idea of the future. They are not bored, because for boredom a certain consciousness is needed. This consciousness is aware that you have done it before, you are doing it again, and you will be doing it tomorrow also--because you don't move away from the past, you don't let it die, you keep it alive. This is the dilemma that everybody faces in life, and the only solution is to let the past die.

There is a beautiful story in the life of Jesus. He comes to a lake; it is early morning, the sun has yet not risen, and one fisherman is just going to throw his net into the lake. Jesus puts his hand on his shoulder and says, "How long are you going to do this thing, every day--morning, afternoon, evening--just catching fish? Do you think this is all life is meant for?"

The fisherman says, "I have never thought about it, but because you have raised the question, I can see the point, that life must be something more."

Jesus says, "If you come with me I will teach you how to catch men, rather than catching fish." The man looked into Jesus' eyes... such depth, such sincerity, so much love that you cannot doubt this man, such a great silence surrounding him that you cannot say no to this man. The fisherman threw his net into the water and followed Jesus.

As they were leaving the town a man came running and told the fisherman, "Your father who was ill for many days has died. Come home!"

The fisherman asked Jesus, "Just give me three days so that I can do the last rituals that a son is expected to do when his father dies." And this is the statement that I want you to remember: Jesus said to that fisherman, "Let the dead bury their dead, you come with me."

What does he mean? "The whole city is full of dead people; they will manage to dispose of your dead father. You are not needed. You just come with me."

Every moment something is becoming dead. Don't be antique collectors; that which is dead, leave it. You go with life, you flow with life, with your totality and intensity, and you will never face any dilemma, any problem.

Osho



Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #55 on: May 13, 2013, 03:52:24 PM »
One has only to become a witness and the mind becomes pure

Man’s mind is wonderful. It holds the mystery of the world and of liberation. Sin and virtue, bondage and liberation, hell and heaven reside within it. Darkness and light are its own creation. Birth is in it and death too is in it. It alone is the door to the external world, it alone is the ladder to the internal being. When it ceases to exist, we transcend both worlds. The mind is everything. Everything is its own imaginative creation. If it disappears, all imagining ceases to exist.

Yesterday I said this somewhere. Someone came forward to ask, “The mind is very unstable and fickle. How to lose it? The mind is polluted. How can it be made pure?”

Then I told a story.

After Buddha had become old, one afternoon he stopped to rest at the foot of a tree in the forest. He felt thirsty, and Ananda went to a nearby mountain stream to fetch water. But just before, some carts had crossed the stream, and the water had turned muddy. Rotting leaves and scum had begun to float on the surface. Ananda returned without water, and said to Buddha, “The water in the stream is not clean; I shall go back to the river and bring water from there.” The river was very far off, and Buddha asked him to fetch water from the stream. After a short while Ananda returned again empty-handed: the water did not appear to him fit to bring.

But Buddha made him go back once more. On the third occasion that Ananda reached the stream, he was amazed. The stream had now become completely clear and unpolluted. The mud had settled and the water had become pure.

I find the story very interesting. The state of the human mind is just the same. The traffic of life comes and stirs it up. But if one goes on watching it, sitting in silence and patience, the impurities settle and a natural clarity returns. In this clarity of mind, life renews itself. It is only a matter of patience, silent awaiting, and without doing anything the impurities of the mind settle.

One has only to become a witness and the mind becomes pure. Our task is not to make it pure. All difficulty arises because of doing. Simply watch it, just sitting on the bank — then see what happens!

Osho



Jewell

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« Reply #56 on: May 14, 2013, 06:53:57 PM »
THE TALE OF THE THREE QUESTIONS


A certain Sultan owned everything a man could wish for and still he did not know the purpose of life. The answer to three questions made his life difficult:

1. What should I do?
2. With which people should I do the things God asks me to do?
3. When should I do it?

The Sultan asked the advice of all kinds of wise people, and then he was told that there was a Chishti dervish, who lived far away, and who might give him a satisfactory answer. The Sultan immediately left and after a journey of several weeks he met the dervish. The dervish was cultivating his own land. He was a simple man, but no simpleton, as he was reciting a Persian quatrain over and over again:

There is a work beyond knowledge, realise that, go!
Do not work to get jewels, be the mine, go!
The heart is a temporary abode, leave it and come!
The soul is the final abode, realise that, go!



The Sultan was however not interested in Persian poems and asked his three questions to the dervish. The dervish did not answer him and continued with his work. The Sultan became angry and said: “Don't you know who I am. I am the Sultan of Sultans”. But this did not make any impression as well and the dervish continued doing what he was doing.

A heavily wounded man suddenly appeared and he dropped to the ground in front of the dervish. The dervish said to the Sultan: “Help me to carry this man to my place!” “I'll help you,” the Sultan said, “but will you answer my questions afterwards?”

“Later!” the dervish said and together they brought the wounded man to the hut of the dervish and took care of him.

“And now I'd like to receive the answers to my questions,” the Sultan said.

“You can return to your palace,” the dervish said, “because you have already received the answers to your questions. As to what to do, you should do what comes to you on your path. As to with whom you should do it, the answer is with those who are present. And as for the when to do it, you should do it the moment it takes place”.



Jewell

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« Reply #57 on: May 23, 2013, 04:23:51 PM »
THE VALUABLE SUFI MANTLE

Once upon a time shaykh Nasiruddin Chishti went on a journey. He appointed a young man as his caliph. Several of the other disciples were disappointed. One of the older disciples, a very learned man, was very jealous of the young man, but he had to accept the decision of the shaykh.
When shaykh Nasiruddin Chishti had appointed the young man as his caliph he had clothed him in his own robe, surely a great blessing! This created an even stronger jealousy among several of the disciples. One day a dervish passed by and approached the young man for alms. As the young man had no possessions but his Sufi robe the only thing he could give to the dervish was this very mantle. Many of the jealous disciples became extremely angry as this object of great blessings, had been given away to a wandering dervish. We however will not deal with them anymore, nor with the young man, but the story continues by relating what happens to the Sufi mantle.
The dervish who had received the mantle met a stranger on the road. He did not know that this stranger was the immortal Khizr and behaved towards him as he always behaved himself, i.e. he was kind towards the stranger. Khizr then returned the kindness by saying some words because of which the Sufi robe turned into a very valuable one. The dervish then saw, that he now possessed a magnificent golden mantle, which was embroidered with precious gems. Wherever he went, he always put on the same light-giving garment; and, since his circle of wandering was actually quite small, soon he was known far and wide, to the people he met, as the dervish with the valuable Sufi mantle.
One day, while traveling along the highroad, singing a little song to himself in praise of the Beloved, he encountered a band of robbers. "Oho!" they cried. "If the life of holy poverty is indeed such a free life, let us make baste to liberate this servant of Allah from his valuable Sufi mantle." "Stand back!" warned the dervish. "This cloak is a gift of God, and those who steal God's gifts will surely incur His wrath." "We'll take that chance," laughed the robbers, and after raining on him a storm of kicks and blows for his trouble, stripped him of valuable robe, and rode off.
Bruised and crestfallen, the dervish continued on his way down the highroad, none too sure - if the truth be known - that God's Wrath would necessarily fall upon his adversaries any time soon; after all, He was the one with all the bruises, wasn't he? Still, he commended himself to Allah, and walked on. Imagine his surprise, then, when he turned a corner of the road, and saw before him the robbers who had just waylaid him, lying dead in a pool of their own blood. At first he could not understand what had happened; but then he looked up, and saw the precious robe hung on a tree of thorns, beneath which lay the corpses of the robbers; slowly it dawned upon him that the robbers had in fact killed one another. They had been fighting for possession of the cloak, which, they realized, would lose half its value if they divided it. "Praise be to Allah!" cried the dervish. "This goes to prove how generous He is, and how just in His dealings with His servants. He has simply been testing me, that much is certain." Then the delighted dervish wrapped himself anew in his cloak, which - if the truth be known - he'd been certain he would never see again. "How great is Allah! He bas punished my enemies and returned to me 

"Your story bas been to me like a miracle of Allah," the widow said. "How can I ever repay you? Ah! I know just the thing. Nothing can satisfy me unless you will accept as a gift this very cloak, which is more yours than my husband's. He already carries with him provisions for his journey, while you, poor homeless dervish, have nothing and no one in this world." And so, humbly and with many protests, Mo’in accepted the valuable Sufi cloak. When dawn broke the next day the funeral procession passed on, and Mo’in made ready to follow them. But what of the mantle? How could he wear it now? His years of struggle and suffering had changed the heart in his breast. Yet how could he leave it behind? At last he tied the cloak in a bundle, placed it on his back, and resumed his aimless wandering. But though he was still unsure of this destination, somehow he felt, after his encounter with the widow, that a great burden had been lifted from his heart.

One day in early Spring, when the sun was bright and the rain had woven a thin carpet of green over the Earth, Mo’in, who had been traveling since before dawn, encountered on the road an old man of venerable aspect, wearing a worm and patched cloak. The old mendicant was reciting some poem:

I ask myself 
Why would a limitless entity
Subject itself to the limits of time and space?
I ask myself 
What is it that makes an entity an entity?
At a minimum a continuity of identity?
If time and space
Clothes an entity with a continuity of identity
Tell me, what is a limitless entity?


"Where are you traveling to, my son?"- the old man said, "and what is in that bundle you carry on your back?"
"Where I am traveling to God only knows, unc1e; I am without any path but the one I make with my own steps. As for this bundle on my back, it is the famous valuable Sufi Cloak." "That cloak!" said the old man; "it must be worth 10,000 dinars. Tell me, what are you planning to do with it? Are you going to sell it for its value in gold coins?" "No," replied Mo’in. "Then you must be planning to wear it." "No," replied Mo’in. "Ah yes, I see, very wise, undoubtedly you fear to attract thieves; but tell me - what ARE you going to do with it? Are you going to make a gift of it to someone?"

Mo’in was taken aback by the old man's question, and pondered how to answer. He had done with wearing it, that much was certain. And he had already sold it once, and bought poverty with its price. Why in the name of Allah was he carrying it on his back? What, in fact, was there left for him to do but give it away? "I would rather answer with actions than words, my Master; take it, it is yours." And Mo’in removed the bundle from his back, opened it, and handed the old man the precious mantle. "What a wonderful gift," the old man said, "and believe me, I have a use for it. But here, you must take something of my own; I cannot allow you to do this thing without expressing my gratitude." And so saying, the old man removed his worn, patched c1oak, and handed it to Mo’in. Immediately a change came over the old man. A great light shone out of him. His beard, that had been white, now became black and glossy. The jewels and gold threads of the valuable Sufi cloak shot rays in all directions, as if touched with the sun: Thus the old man in the patched cloak was revealed as Khizr, whom we have already met in the beginning of this tale.

"Now you can see," said Khizr, "that this cloak, which you valued so highly, but which proved useless to you in the markets of the world, does indeed hold all the value you imbued it with, and infinitely more., Your valuation, in tact, was far too low, your paltry degree of admiration insulting to the sublimity of this garment. You valued it only as high as your own vanity - while it saw in you the knowledge of Allah. This is why it came into your life, and clung to you like a loyal friend, and always returned to be with you, even through great hardship. But perhaps vanity for knowledge is not, all in all, a bad exchange. Nevertheless, the cloak bas now been returned to its rightful owner, because only in this moment has it been given with an open hand, neither stolen, nor bartered, nor sold There is nothing inside this cloak but knowledge; consequently knowledge may be your companion from now on, and accompany you in all your travels. But as for that tiny particle of knowledge called 'The Tale of the Dervish with the Valuable Sufi Mantle' its time to speak is now ended."
*::: ::: :::*

Jewell

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Re: Stories
« Reply #58 on: May 25, 2013, 12:35:13 AM »
The Frogs


A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. All the other frogs gathered around the pit. When they saw how deep the pit was, they told the unfortunate frogs they would never get out. The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit.

The other frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as dead. Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other frogs were saying and simply gave up. He fell down and died.

The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and suffering and just die. He jumped even harder and finally made it out. When he got out, the other frogs asked him, "Why did you continue jumping. Didn't you hear us?"

The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time...


This story holds two lessons:

1. There is power of life and death in the tongue. An encouraging word to someone who is down can lift them up and help them make it through the day.

2. A destructive word to someone who is down can be what it takes to kill them. Be careful of what you say. Speak life to those who cross your path.

The power of words... it is sometimes hard to understand that an encouraging word can go such a long way. Anyone can speak words that tend to rob another of the spirit to continue in difficult times.

Special is the individual who will take the time to encourage another.



Jewell

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« Reply #59 on: May 25, 2013, 04:11:29 PM »
THE BLOODLETTER'S EMULATION OF THE MERCHANT


It is said that in one of the distant cities of Khwarazm there was a merchant of much wealth and property whose name was ‘Abd al-Malik. He was always trying to find ways to make more money, so he frequented the gatherings of the learned men as well as those of the poor.
One day he thought: “I have been engaged in many kinds of business in different parts of the world, but now I am going to follow the Qur’anic precept”:

HE WHO DOES A GOOD DEED SHALL BE REWARDED TENFOLD.


Having decided upon this, he proceeded to carry out his decision. Whatever wealth he possessed he distributed for charity. Whatever riches he had he gave as alms to the poor. He did not even had enough money left for his breakfast.

That night in a dream he saw a monk. He asked him: “Who are you?”

The monk replied, “I am the spirit of your good fortune. Since you have given all your wealth for charity and all your money to the poor, you must not be left to starve. Tomorrow morning I will reappear in this form before you. At that time you must hit me on the head with a cudgel and I will fall down and turn into gold. Whenever you cut off a part of me that part will grow back again and whatever limb you remove another will immediately grow in its place”.

O, Nakhshabi, relinquish whatever wealth you possess.
How long will you charity and benevolence disdain?
For the sake of God donate to someone a pure gold coin
And a thousand will later be your well deserved gain.


The next day when the night-travelling monk – the moon – was entering the temple in the west, and when the great, devout wayfarer – the sun – was spreading the carpet of light in the sky, and at the moment when the bloodletter was trimming the beard and the moustache of ‘Abd al-Malik, the monk appeared.

‘Abd al-Malik arose and hit him on the head several times with a cane. The monk immediately fell down and turned into gold. ‘Abd al-Malik gave a few silver coins to the bloodletter and warned him not to divulge the secret.

The bloodletter surmised that if anyone struck a monk on the head, that monk would turn into gold. He went home and made preparations for a feast inviting several monks to be his guests. After the dinner was over, he fetched a heavy stick and hit the monks on their heads with such force that their scalps were cut and blood began to flow like a stream. When the monks started to scream and wail with pain, a large crowd gathered. They bound the bloodletter securely and took him along with the monks to the magistrate of the city.

The magistrate asked: “Why did you beat up those poor people and crack their heads open?”
The bloodletter replied: “I was in the house of ‘Abd al-Malik when a monk came to see him. He beat him on the head several times with a cane and the monk immediately turned into gold. I thought that anyone who hit a monk on the head could cause him to turn into gold. With this temptation I invited the monks to be my guests and struck a few blows on their heads. Not only their condition failed to change, but the whole affair ended in a great fiasco”.

The magistrate summoned ‘Abd al-Malik and asked him: “what is this bloodletter claiming?”
‘Abd al-Malik answered: “This man lives on my street. For several days his senses have been affected and his mind has become deranged. He wanders around all day like a madman and talks nonsense. Otherwise why would a sane person act in such a manner or an intelligent man utter such words? He needs care, proper treatment, medicine and potions. He must be taken to a doctor. He must be sent to a capable physician. It is a pity that such a bloodletter should be wasted and it is regretful that his skill should be lost”.

The words of ‘Abd al-Malik met with the approval of the magistrate. He made excuses to the monks and ordered that the bloodletter be released.

O Nakhshabi, conduct your true self with integrity.
When will you ever forsake thought of worldly possession!
Fools will imitate unsuitable actions of others.
To maintain self esteem, you should always use discretion.