Tag: excess

  • The Belly of Delhi

    I simply couldn’t resist that play on words for the title. Delhi is famous for giving its visitors the Delhi Belly, which for those who received this gift would tell you that it’s no laughing matter. Like this, so many other aspects about Delhi and India in general leaves me with a sense of conflict. Recognising the effects of the caste system while noting the awkward balance it provides as well. Or seeing the beautiful structures left to ruin from the neglect of complacent or downright lazy hired help, while fending off beggars that rely on irritation and annoyance as a reason for you to part with your rupees just to get rid of them. The overwhelming sense I got though, when visiting Delhi and later Agra, is that it’s a distracted place.

    I thought the irritable hooting from the Arab driver behind me at an intersection in Arabia was annoying, but that fast became a cherished memory in the face of the incessant hooting that has become the staple language with which drivers communicate in India. Unfortunately the hooting is needed because road signs, traffic signals, and general rules of the road are merely suggestions for normalcy, but are rarely observed or enforced. At a single intersection I witnessed a driver take a u-turn in front of us while another cut in from the oncoming side, while we cut in front of a third driver that actually had the right of way, all in the space of about 1.5 seconds. In South Africa, someone would have likely been severely injured or killed at that intersection from road rage. But that’s the difference, in a way, between South Africa and India.

    When I look on the faces of drivers in South Africa, I see signs of life, mostly in the form of aggression, expectation, entitlement, or sometimes composure. But there is always an expression of emotion, which I interpret as life. In Delhi, the drivers probably make the best poker players ever. Regardless of how reckless the manoeuvre was of the person in front, the most it would solicit is a lotus flower-like twist of the fingers in that universal gesture of WTF. You know, palms facing up while fingers gesture as if unscrewing a lightbulb? So when you see that, you know it was really bad. The rest of the time it’s emotionless as if resigned to the fact that nothing more should be expected. Closer to the important truth in this I believe is the fact that it’s not rules or constraints that determine harmony in society. Those merely dictate an unnatural order. Collective subscription to a set of norms is what fosters the harmony that we all seek. In other words, if everyone collectively subscribes to the same version of chaos, is it really chaos? It stands to reason then that disruption or upheaval in society is caused when norms or standards are imposed on an unwilling audience. Hence your leaders are as you are.

    That there is a potential for greatness in Delhi is no less true than the potential for greatness in the most rural villages in South Africa. Unfortunately, too often I find that we’re trying to subscribe to a set of laws that are unnatural, or to be part of a system that is exclusionary by design, but we do so anyway because that is the prevailing perception of success. Such thinking is not what leads to ingenious outcomes. When we subscribe without true conviction or understanding in the underlying purpose, we lose ourselves in favour of the version of us dictated by that system. Stated simply, we forget who we truly are when we focus on meeting expectations rather than living with conviction. Defining our worth based on these external and unnatural systems, usually capitalistic in nature, distracts us from defining who we are as human beings. This is what I see on the faces of so many around me, whether in Delhi or Johannesburg. There is a vacancy of the self, but an abundance of need for acceptance or celebration. In Delhi it’s expressed as complacency in the face of the overwhelming odds that stifle any desire to change it. In Johannesburg, it’s the excessive aggression towards each other which in essence hints at a belief that we are robbing each other of success, rather than a realisation that our collective subscription to a set of governance that erodes our self-worth is why we are so quick to launch the first offensive.

    I would never have guessed that the Delhi Belly will come to symbolise the core of what is wrong with the human condition as we experience it today. We all partake in the consumption of things that we believe are needed for our sustenance, but are internally rejecting its origins or composition. Those that know better will subscribe under duress and will be more prone to the effects of such imbalance, while those that expect nothing more assimilate and become more efficient at processing the unpalatable. Such adaption might prove useful in the short term, but it lowers the bar in the long term.

    Intolerance to a pervasive vice or imbalance may seem idealistic and naive, but having the courage to recognise a vice as a vice is all that stands between us and the rest of that slippery slope of decay. We’ve become so good at adapting that we’ve given up on idealism or conviction. Those that speak of old school values are shunned as out of touch while those that lack it complain bitterly about the state of the world. Such are the distractions of arrogance. When we assume that the technological advancements of the current generation implies moral superiority over the previous ones, we deny the next generation the benefit of finding a wholesome balance between the two. But just as decay is generational in nature, so too is rebirth. I believe that the human spirit will only tolerate the stench of immorality and imbalance for so long before the innate intolerance for such states drive us towards a resurgence of balance and harmony. The absolutists assume that such a return to old school values implies an abandonment of progress. They’re the ones that are most deluded. They’re the ones that contribute to the excess that we experience as the Delhi Belly.

    I see it as being no different to cow hands working the farm and growing immune to the stench of the manure. They only realise what they’ve grown accustomed to if they remove themselves from it for long enough to grow accustomed to more pleasing aromas. And so it is with human beings. We’re collectively obsessed with competing for self enrichment while ignoring the greater purpose for which we exist. That is, the upliftment of those around us which automatically elevates our own condition. But in the absence of trust, we share a mutual contempt instead.

  • On Sin for the Sinless

    We’re experiencing a drought in South Africa at the moment. In some areas it is the worst they’ve had it in 30 years. One town even reported their tap water turning salty because the river mouth has dried up, causing the seawater to seep in. In response to this drought there have been calls from all political and religious persuasions to use water sparingly and support each other where possible, especially in the worse hit areas.

    The Muslim community responded as well and scheduled a special congregational prayer for rain to be held tomorrow morning. It is no different to the manner of praying for any other prayer time, but the intent and purpose is distinctly different. As Muslims, we believe that such conditions as drought befall us because of the general level of sin in our communities. Now before you dismiss this as religious hogwash, consider my perspective first.

    The subscription to the notion of sinning is not necessarily constrained to religion either, and most certainly not limited to Muslims. So set aside the stigma and think of it as an imbalance in life, and by extension, society. We always think of sins in a transactional way. We assume that the sin itself is what brings the negative recompense, but generally fail to consider the broader context of the environment that sustains such sins.  When we indulge excessively, either in good or bad, we tend towards extremism. Such extremism leads to imbalance, which is typically manifested in unnatural conditions that befall us. Extremism, again setting stigmas aside, is when we party more than we reflect, consume more than we contribute, or destroy more than we create. Within this context, I believe, the true nature of sinning is revealed.

    Droughts are caused by imbalances in the environment. Destroy the natural balance of an ecosystem and the results will mean the destruction of the ecosystem. Remove the trees that are the lungs of the earth and the earth will cease to breathe. Simple, yet so difficult for most to grasp. More importantly, relative to the point I wish to make, the reasons for this imbalance is what drives us to do the stupid things that we do like destroying balance in favour of imbalance. We party hard because we need to escape, or we need to feel included. The destruction it causes internally, and often to those around us as well, is ignored because we’re distracted by the gratification we feel from the ability to escape or the void that is filled when we feel included.

    Trees that are not appreciated for their contribution is quickly consumed as a trivial resource because it holds the promise of wealth. Re-purposing the fertile land to hold a shopping mall or block of apartments that will yield premium returns on our investment quickly dwarfs the need for reason around why the trees should be respected. The excess we indulge in for purposes of wealth creation distracts us from the balance we are responsible for maintaining. Chasing these trinkets leads to excesses, usually sinful in nature, because it goes with the territory. In other words, the sin is just the symptom of a sick society, it is not what makes society sick.

    What I am struggling to articulate is that when we hear religious leaders talk about our sins being the reason for the natural disasters we see around us, we automatically assume that it is a specific and deliberate response from God to smite us for our actions, when in fact it’s merely a natural consequence to the imbalance we created. This is just one example of this cycle. Far too often we find ourselves seeking answers in symptoms forgetting to reflect on the causes that landed us in the unfortunate situation to begin with.

    The sinless are those that are faultless. They’re the ones that believe that everything untoward that happens to them is not deserved. They believe that the occurrence of misfortune must be imposed and can never be a cause of their own doing. The sinless are the naive, the ingrates, the distracted ones. Those that are not naive, ungrateful, or distracted know that there are no sinless beings around. We all make mistakes. Just because the mistakes are not intended (they wouldn’t be mistakes if they were) doesn’t mean that we’re suddenly immune to the consequences. It’s like accidentally killing someone and then saying I didn’t mean to kill them hoping that that would miraculously undo the destruction that your action caused in the first place.

    The state of being sinless exists only in our own minds when we’re in denial. When we stop associating it with religion and punishment, we’ll start seeing it for what it is. It’s a harm we perpetrate against ourselves first, before anyone else. The excess, while being directly harmful to others around us, started eroding the good within us long before we acted on it. The collective imbalance of society is bound to result in an outcome that is larger than the sum of the contribution of each of us. It’s like a snowball effect. One plus one does not equal two in this case, because it often accelerates as a factor of the contribution and not just a reciprocation in equal parts.

    The lesson, for me, is simple. Stop harming myself, before I can stop harming others. Stop blaming others for the harm that I impose on myself. The rest will find its own balance. The difficulty in stopping the harm is not due to an inability to stop. It’s due to the unwillingness to give up the gratification that the excess offers us. The less likely we are to give it up in favour of more sustainable means of fulfilment, the more likely we are to reach the tipping point on a global scale. Say hello to climate change.

    [I’m too lazy to fully complete this thought process right now]

  • Trinkets of Distraction

    As I walked through the ‘sacred relics’ chamber of the Topkapi Palace, I was mesmerised by the melodious recitation of the Qur’an. At first I thought it was a recording because of the consistency of the tone and pitch of the recitation, until I walked past the booth where the reciter set and continued reciting as if there was nothing around him that mattered. It was just him and his recitation of those beautiful verses. But as I walked through those chambers my attention was drawn to the common trend I noticed on so many artefacts. These artefacts comprised of various personal effects of the prophet (peace be upon him), his closest companions, and immediate family. It was a collection of impressively ornate pieces alongside some really rudimentary looking items.

    The embellished ones had two dates indicated, whereas all the more simplistic items that included actual garments worn by some of the earliest luminaries of Islam had only a single date. The difference was painfully clear. In its original state, all those items were plain and practical. They weren’t embellished in gemstones, or silver mouldings, nor gold detail. For example, the drinking bowl of the prophet (pbuh) was a regular wooden drinking bowl that he used for water. The second date I noticed confirmed the period during which the silver embellishment on the outside was attached to the bowl. The differences between the two dates were generally 7th century for the original item, and 13th to 17th century for the embellishment.

    The 7th Century was when the prophet (pbuh) lived, and the 13th Century was when many recognise the end of the Golden Age of Islam. Whether or not that was a coincidence, I don’t know. But what is striking for me is that it does coincide with a period that marks the eventual slide of the Muslims from being at the forefront of progress across almost every sphere of human development. While my views are largely conjecture (since I lack any inclination to conduct a formal study of the subject) the important point that stands out for me is that the embellished and ritualistic way of life that we see among Muslims today was not evidenced in these early artefacts of the greatest personalities of Islam.

    At some point, being so accomplished, we lost our grounding and became obsessed with demonstrating to the world, internal and external to the Islamic empire, the extent of our success. The substance of what we knew or practiced was no longer sufficient. It’s almost blasphemous in my mind.

    I find it difficult to process the arrogance that would go along with the decision to take a humble water bowl of the prophet of Islam and turn it into an ornate mantel piece presumably out of love for its owner? Surely such love should be the preservation of the way of life of the prophet himself, rather than to indulge in excess that he specifically and boldly opposed in everything that he did? But this was no longer the case. Even their swords we encrusted in jewels and gold. Why?

    I found this disturbing to the point where I worked my way hurriedly through the chambers and left. My longest pause was at the display that contained two simple garments, one that belonged to the daughter of the prophet, and another that belonged to one of his companions (may peace be upon them all). These remained in their original humble states, with visible patchwork where it was mended, and a natural wear from its use. This resonated with me. This reflected the simplicity that epitomises the humility with which they lived, despite having the resources of an empire at their disposal.

    Ostentatious displays of religiosity has become the hallmark of many Muslim communities. This is not an echo of the origins of Islam, but rather of its downfall. But this is not a flaw limited to Muslims. Every religion, and every culture I encounter these days has similar failings. The world is full of indulgence and selfish promotion. Even in charity we find ways of promoting ourselves or our businesses. Sincerity comes a distant second place to self-promotion.

    The same is true for life in general. We’re so easily distracted by how we’re wanting to be perceived that we spend more time developing that appearance than investing in the substance that makes the real difference in our lives and the lives of those around us. Islam and Muslims are under attack because we’ve largely departed from this path of simplicity and sincerity in our application of Islamic principles and practices. The same is true for those that are more ostentatious than they are sincere. They are also despised by the people that don’t subscribe to such elitism, so it stands to reason that the same would be true for religious zealots. It’s just a pity that those zealots are the ones defining the perception of a way of life that offers immense peace and moderation for a world steeped in self-indulgence and excess.