Are you ready to ask?

When I do not understand something, I question it. For, to gain knowledge about something, one must acknowledge the vagueness that it brings. The void that inhibits your brain when you don't know something. Like an unprepared student staring at the words on an exam that do not make sense to them. Unprepared. That's the keyword here. When I am unprepared, I do not know what's going on. And, other than the hesitation or laziness to know, why else am I unprepared? Because I do not question. Because I do not listen. Because it is, that specific knowledge is the background chaos for me. I do not care therefore, I do not ask. And I show up-- on the day of the exam--unprepared. 

Where am I going with this blabbering of questions, unpreparedness, and exams? Life. Love. Spirituality. If you have clicked this post and decided to read it, you are already well aware of the fact that I love discussions. I love talking about things that are 'background chaos.' The topics we consider ancient or philosophy professors' ramblings. But, in reality, these topics are life. These discussions are what make us humans. And questions, those make our intellects. Then, why is it so that in a world of more than seven billion homo-sapiens, we are still afraid to question? Why have we put on armor, protecting our thoughts instead of sharing? Why do we act as saviors of the long-held beliefs, myths, and thoughts instead of seekers, diving into the depths of all the realms? We are humans before redeemers. Brains before swords. Bodies before armors. And, like our forebears, seekers before saviors.

If you belong to South East Asia, especially Pakistan, you know Iqbal as the most celebrated poet, in fact, the national poet of Pakistan. You know him as a philosopher, lawyer, and politician. You know him as the scholar and scribbler whose vision inspired the downtrodden of British India. The Muslim, whose thoughts tingled the khudi, the self-worth of the oppressed. The connection he concocted between the creation and the Creator through his concept of 'egohood' is taught in schools, acknowledged in seminars, and respected throughout the Muslim world. But only respect, not understood. Recently, my mother delved into Iqbal's writings. She studied the most celebrated piece "Shikwa" and "Jawab e Shikwa" (Complaint and the Answer to the Complaint). Who was Iqbal complaining to? The Almighty: God (s), Universe, the energy you believe in. Iqbal was questioning God. He was angry at the energy. He was complaining about all the mayhem that the Creator has caused. To our savior instincts, it's a terrible action, punishable in fact, right? But, it is Iqbal, the most renowned poet of the Indian subcontinent; how can we punish the greatest of intellects? Iqbal was just talking. Why can't we talk then?

Not everything is blasphemous, talking is certainly not. Discussing beliefs and fuming thoughts at the dinner table is not blasphemy. Questioning aspects of faith and spirituality is not impiety. These discussions are the only means to learn. They are the only way to understand and edit long-held notions. Taboo talks are not taboo when discussed. They give us insight into the present feelings; they make us accept what's wrong and what's not. Talking might help several of us revise our theories and eradicate the myths that we hold so close to our hearts. Complaining to God was Iqbal's way of doing so, and he was successful because, in Jawab e Shikwa, he gained the answers to his questions. Not the misery of the world but the misery of thought can surely be resolved by talking. Our thoughts and beliefs are not fragile enough that a discussion will harm them. Nothing can damage it but you. Nothing can harm God; the Almighty doesn't need protection, certainly not our protection. 'What you seek is seeking you (Rumi), but when you do not seek the answers, you will be bestowed with the misery of the questions not asked--existential crisis perhaps. Burning books that question your belief wouldn't help, questioning their origin will. Attacking the writer will not solve your misery, asking them will. Knowledge is good, it prepares you for the exam-- the exam of the after-world. The question is, are you ready to ask?

May you get all your wishes but one, so you always have something to strive for, something to ask.

Best,

Yashal Jalil