"Write injuries in sand, kindnesses in marble"

أَعُوذُ بِاللّٰهِ مِنَ الشَّيْطَانِ الرَّجِيمِ

بِسۡمِ ٱللهِ ٱلرَّحۡمَـٰنِ ٱلرَّحِيمِ

اللہ کے نام سے شروع جو بڑا مہربان نہایت رحم کرنے والا ہے

In the name of ALLAH, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

"Write injuries in sand, kindnesses in marble"

This beautiful proverb reminds us to let go of hurts quickly while permanently anchoring acts of goodness in our hearts. By writing injuries in the sand, one allows the waves of time, forgiveness, and understanding to wash them away, preventing bitterness from taking root. Conversely, engraving kindness into marble means one actively chooses to remember, cherish, and celebrate the love and support received in life. Ultimately, this practice frees our mind from the weight of old grievances and fills our life with gratitude, ensuring that our relationships are built on lasting appreciation rather than fading grudges.

In the journey of life, one encounters various kinds of people, but some are so "kind" that the sheer burden of their kindness bends one double. It is said that a true friend is one who stands by you in times of trouble. However, there are some well-wishers around us whose greatest "kindness" is ensuring that troubles never disappear from your life, just so they can repeatedly get the opportunity to come to your aid. Looking at such fruitless companions, the Sufi poet Mian Muhammad Bakhsh rightly said:

“A companion who is of no use in times of ease or hardship,

It is better to be alone, my friend, than to have such a fruitless partner.”

From the lap of the mother to the darkness of the grave, man gradually comes to understand the true meaning of these "times of ease and hardship." It is this journey of life, with its bitter and sweet experiences, that teaches one the reality of relationships. Yet, friends will be friends; you find those who are just there to play, those who watch and create a spectacle, and those rare souls who actually bring grace and benefit to your life. This is the mandatory lesson of life that teaches us how "kindnesses" manifest in all sorts of forms and disguises in this worldly carnival. In the end, after all these trials, a person learns to live in a way that despite enduring everything, they smile and say, "Come, let us go to the carnival!" Truly, this carnival of life is strange, and so are the various kinds of well-wishers we meet in it!

This journey, which begins with the innocence of childhood, passes through the threshold of adolescence and enters the passionate realm of youth. At that point, a person fancies themselves the hero of a movie. Little do they know that the Director of Life has prepared a completely different script for them. What tragedies do not unfold in this phase? In the heat of passion, hearts are lost, and sometimes life itself is put at stake. Ah, those roaring early days of love, those night-long conversations, and those sky-shattering promises of "I cannot live without you"! Good heavens, hearing them made it feel as though if separation happened, the next breath would simply refuse to come.

But time is a cruel healer, sir! On one side they separate, and on the other, look at the irony of life—man does not die; instead, he learns to live by being made a "fool" (or Mamoo, a slang for being duped). And to top it all off, where is man not made a fool? First, the very "kind soul" for whom you offered your heart and soul settles down with someone else, making you a fool in both the literal and figurative sense. Then, the remaining void is filled by friends and relatives who come under the guise of love, sympathy, and solace, only to leave you duped at every turn of life. It often brings to mind that famous line from the Bollywood movie Munna Bhai M.B.B.S.: "They went ahead and made a Mamoo out of me!" Truly, the entire circus of life feels like it is chanting the same tune.

The grand promises of these kind souls do not actually deceive us; rather, it is our own simplicity and quickness to trust that works in their favour, as Aamir Usmani beautifully put it:

“Neither do I have the strength to restrain my grief, nor the audacity to shed tears,

This is a strange state of mind—neither peace nor restlessness.

Your life-elevating promises, when did they ever deceive me?

It was my own quickness to trust that came to your aid.”

Just as a person is trying to recover from the illusions of this "magical city of stones" and the shocks of being duped, the biggest turning point of life arrives. One day, the respected parents solemnly place a hand on their forehead and say, "That is enough, son! You have wandered enough, now settle down." And then, through the mediation of the parents, a person is respectably tied to a "hitching post" (marriage).

After being tied to this post of marriage, when the harsh sunlight of reality appears and the yoke of domestic responsibilities settles on the shoulders, one discovers how many other kinds of "benefactors" exist elsewhere! Now, those old kind souls, over whose false promises the soul once wept, bring a smile to one's face at one's own past naivety. Now it becomes clear that Mian Muhammad Bakhsh and Munir Niazi were only weeping over friends, whereas here, the entire system of life is teeming with "benefactors." The in-laws, the ration shopkeeper, and the government officials handing over utility bills—then one realizes that the sorrows of the past, the grief of separation, and the laments of love were actually luxuries. The real exam has just begun!

Aamir Usmani was right; our quickness to trust kept serving us well, otherwise, given the number of deceptions we swallowed under the cloak of "kindness" since childhood, anyone else would have lost their mind long ago. When a person finds themselves surrounded by this opportunistic crowd, the poetry of Munir Niazi comes to mind, a lesson we read and took to heart back in our youth:

“If dying is our ultimate destiny, why run away from it?

Why entangle ourselves in the web of the world just to forget it?

Why make false and true friends just to pour our hearts out to them?

Why not just sit alone at home and laugh like madmen?”

If death is inevitable, what is the point of running away? In this very pursuit of standing our ground before the world, we took a heavy beating from these "kind souls." After every setback and every wound, the heart thought that perhaps it would have been better to run away by wrapping oneself in the same blanket of deceit as these opportunists. But it was in this very hustle, this struggle, and this marketplace of deception that we also learned to distinguish between true and false friends.

Today, as the evening of life approaches and old age weighs upon the body, I sit alone at home and recall all those faces—their deceit, their cunning, and their "kindnesses." I actually burst out laughing like a madman all by myself, realizing what a magical land of illusions we were searching for truth in!

Then, man looks back at the past, toward that era of madness where there were the loud laughs of sincere friends and selfless love existed. In the words of Nasir Kazmi:

“There were millions of paths, millions of spectacles,

In the days of my wandering, oh, what was there not?”

But the philosophy of life is strange: the very moments in which the soul once smiled bring an unknown sadness to the heart after time has passed. Perhaps the greatest tragedy of happiness is that it remains alive within us even after it has passed, but all the paths to return to it are lost in the mist of time. And then man realizes that some joys, once gone, do not remain joys; they become a form of deprivation that is mourned silently for a lifetime.

There is also a bitter truth to life: we see that some people always cause pain, inflict harm, and continuously sting in one way or another. After enduring severe and long-lasting trauma, one realizes with great difficulty that these "kind souls" are actually snakes in the grass—snakes that were nurtured by our own kindness, fed on the milk of our own generosity! And it is also a strange irony that even after tasting their venom, a person is so helpless at the hands of the heart's emotional attachments that even after breaking ties, they cannot separate their memory from the soul, as the poet says:

“O friend, despite cutting off all ties with you,

I have felt your need, every now and then.”

The truth is, one is better off alone than with the "kindnesses" of these opportunistic well-wishers. There is so much hidden agenda in their selflessness that it makes one think that loneliness is a hundred times better than a crowd of such selfish friends—a place where one has nothing left to lose. And finally, when man has seen all the colours of this material and mortal world, a spiritual cry rises from the depths of the soul:--

“In the end, we must go and die,

Come, let us go to the carnival...

The first carnival was celebrated by Adam,

The angels bowed their heads in prostration...

And Satan burned with envy from within,

Come, let us go to the carnival...”

When the ultimate destination is to mingle with the dust, why complain about these worldly opportunists and selfish "well-wishers"? The first carnival of the universe was celebrated by the father of humanity, Adam, where the angels placed their heads in prostration, and Satan, burning in the fire of jealousy, was rejected forever. Envy, cunning, and hypocrisy have been a part of this carnival since that very day. Therefore, instead of grieving over the behavior of these "kind souls," man forgets everything, becomes a wandering ascetic, and cries out: "Leave these true and false friends behind! In the end, we must return to dust. So let us walk toward the true carnival of life and immerse ourselves in the colours of its Creator!"