I had been sitting in the office since I arrived this morning and trying to come up with an idea for my weekly article, the submission deadline of which was fast approaching.
There were a couple of ideas that I tried to work on, like Imran Khan’s continued ordeal in prison or the lone Olympics gold medal that one of our athletes secured after a very long, medal-less period. However, these topics had lost their freshness and I could not think of a new angle with which I could write on them.
My tea was getting cold and the paper in front of me was getting black with writings and cuttings, but my mind was refusing to come up with anything that could serve the purpose. Luckily, at that time Amjad opened the office door, walked in quite energetic and fresh, and uttered Salama aleikum. I looked up at him and gave him a faint smile.
“Oh man, that breakfast was excellent,” he almost yelled. He then took a close look at me and asked, “What’s the matter with you? Did you eat this morning? You’re looking energy-less.” I faintly smiled again and told him about my deadline and my inability to come up with a viable idea to write. Then I casually asked him what he had for that “excellent” breakfast. “Poori, halwa and channay,” he said with a sense of pride.
“What’s so special about these? You have the exact same breakfast twice a week,” I said.
“No, these were so good and so different that I cannot even begin to explain them to you,” he said. “Best of all, though, they were free! There’s this guy on Link Road who serves free breakfast every morning. I used to see people line up to eat their breakfast, but never tried it myself before today.”
“Is he serving these to the poor?” I asked. “And if yes, then why did you go there? You‘re not poor, are you?”
“No, this breakfast is for anyone, poor or middle class or rich,” he replied. This did not make much sense to me, and that is when I decided to go check this man out, take a short interview, and get the material for the article.
20 minutes later I was sitting with him. He looked like your average Pakistani man, but one thing that was not average about him was his face: it was shining. I gave him a brief introduction of myself and asked him if I could ask him a few questions. He had finished serving breakfast and his companion was cleaning and packing the dishes and other utensils. He warmly smiled and nodded, “Sure.”
My questions revolved around the need for him to give free food to anyone, poor or rich. I was with him for the next 60–70 minutes, and here is the gist that I want to share with you.
He told me 4 things:
The Provision (income, wealth, health, any other quality or trait) that we get is not 100% ours. It has several partners, namely family, relatives, the needy, the sick, the handicapped, the aged etc. If we deliver to others from “our” provision then Nature’s provisions/sustenance delivery mechanism is achieved, and we live an easy life where unnecessary problems, pains, and difficult times don’t come our way.
When we deliver the share of others to them, then our share of others’ provision is delivered to us, resulting again in an easy, healthy, and peaceful life.
The poor are fed because they don’t have resources and the rich are fed so they pick up the habit of ‘Giving’.
Our Creator (and the Creator of all these systems) becomes happy with us and awards us bonuses from time to time in the form of respectful children, unexpected promotions at work, satisfactory business growth, avoidance of unpleasant incidences and circumstances, etc.
I thanked him for his time and took permission to leave. I am trying to digest what he told me but I am not certain if I agree or understand all of what he said.
What are your thoughts on this? Can ‘Giving’ really do all this magical stuff or is it just one man’s belief?
