How Old Are You

“My place is the Placeless; my trace is the Traceless:

This is neither body nor soul, for I belong to the soul of

the Beloved. I have put duality away, I have seen that

the two worlds are one: One I seek, one I know, one I see, one I call.”

— Rumi

The James Webb Space Telescope recently has opened doors to the possibility of answering questions that are as old as humanity itself—if not even more ancient. The telescope is trying to observe an unimaginable phenomenon, almost going back to the beginning of the universe. Scientists are anxious to see as far back as the Big Bang and beyond. They are getting more impatient by the hour, as Webb’s observations have revealed pictures of the galaxies that are almost thirteen billion years old.

Time travel is a lingering romance of the scientific community, and scientists have developed a way to peek into the distant past and more. Man’s belief and imagination have gone through these distances and even further, time after time. Humans have claimed to have revelations from the skies and outer worlds. 

Those messages came through holy persons. Part of those messages narrates that everything was created from nothing. Some holy people have claimed the universe was made in seven days and seven nights, and that, ever since then, the universe has been expanding. 

They already claim that the angels come to the earth from extraterrestrial horizons. Their holy books witness the presence of worlds like heavens and hells. They already believe in the soul and in spiritual journeys. They also accept the existence of spirits, giants, witches, and fairies.  

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1, NRSV alternate reading). God speaks, and things come into being that were not there before, beginning with the universe itself. Creation is solely an act of God. It is not an accident, a mistake, or the product of an inferior deity, but the self-expression of God.

They believe their souls were present in some outer world before they were injected into their bodies. They believe that their forefather and mother—namely, Adam and Eve—were sent to the earth from another world. 

“You are as old as the universe, because matter can not be created or destroyed. In the deepest level, you are the universe experiencing itself.”

— Astrovia 1 @ instagram 

They further believe that their souls travel to somewhere in the skies after their deaths. They think their stay on earth is a stopover in the grand arrangement of the journey of their souls. 

بلھے شاہ اساں مرنا نہ ہی گور پیا کوئی ہور

“I am not dead, it is merely my body that rests in my grave.”

They believe angels can travel faster than light and black holes. Yes, science is trying to see the universe and its dwellers physically. Scientists are trying to find worlds like earth containing life as it exists on earth. 

The extraterrestrial horizons and their residents may not need oxygen or water. They may not need to feed themselves with carbs and proteins. 

The capacities of the JWST and of similar inventions might find something that initially existed in our holy scriptures or in our beliefs. In the meantime, we can read more about physics, astronomy, and math. We can be patient and make each other’s lives peaceful and prosperous. And there’s no better way to begin than by sharing smiles with each other. 

“Smile is a moment when the soul and body are in complete harmony.”

Ahsan Jamil 

Credits 

KJV Holy Bible

Instagram 

Google

NASA

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Golf in Empire State

“Give me golf clubs, fresh air and a beautiful partner, and you can keep the clubs and fresh air.”

Jack Benny

The blue sky, dense and leafy trees, lush green grass, the breathtaking duet of the perennial and yarrow, and the recurring appearance of the purple admiral make walking on the fairways equal to a Babylonian stroll. The melodies of the blue jays and northern cardinals, as well as the guest appearances of the white tailed deer, add more to the summer greetings of the golf avenues of the Empire State. Oh! how can I forget to mention the repercussions of the invites and smiles of the cart girls. The greasy aroma of the Corona and thirsty burbling of colorful Gatorade add another level to North American golfers’ experience. There are very few golf courses where golfers can escape the white fleet of swans. Many golf courses hire dogs to clear swan poop. Turkey also ambulate on the fairways every now and then. Sometimes a peeking fox or a determined turtle also graces the occasion. Rabbits, raccoons and squirrels are frequent spectators, and rarely snakes would appear to warn the golfers to stay on the fairways. I am sure there’s much more in those woods, but I wouldn’t follow them there.

“When you feel a peaceful joy,

That’s when you are near the truth.”

Rumi

Branded attire, fashionable shades, bot carts, expensive rangefinders, DMDs, smartphone apps, and golf watches are more essential than the wedges. Some even smoke cigars to give their shots more executive looks. Like most other things, golf in New York is also by appointment. You just can’t walk in with your bag on your shoulders. Caddies are a rare luxury, and cart rates are no less than Uber. 

Shanks and slices are an international phenomenon that knows no geography. Miss hits, overthinking, and bad tempo are common in all continents. The mistakes of golf are beyond racial discrimination. All of these things don’t matter if you would pay attention to what else is going on at the golf course. 

New Yorkers spend more time looking for each other’s stray balls than on the fairways. Music in the carts, laughter at the fellow golfers’ mistakes. The sweet and sour four-letter words “f—k” and “s—t” are widely administered on the course. The off-course utilization of these two words is also welcomed. 

A few other four-letter words—“well done,” and “good shot”—are also used frequently. The flights in North America mostly form the perfect rainbow of multiculturalism. If New York was a melting bowl of difference, its golfers were the stew it made. The acceptance of all genders and of transgender people is admirable. Blacks, whites, browns and yellows! Chirstians, Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, atheists, all in the pursuit of pars and birdies, playing in complete harmony.  

“We are the world, oh,

There’s a choice we’re making

We’re serving our own lives

It’s true we are making a better day

Just you and me.”

Lionel Richie / Micheal Jackson

By

Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Dialect of Golf

“Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing.”

Khalil Gibran

While I was in Istanbul, I went to play golf at Kemer Golf & Country Club. It was not a short drive from my hotel at Bosphorus, but the trip was worthwhile. I felt reassured seeing that they had SIM rental clubs, since I was playing with those at home. The caddie knew no English, nor did I know Turkish. It was my first experience with a foreign caddie. Another country, another club, another language, another caddie — same golf set and same game. 

I was amazed to see that golf has its own dialect. We understood each other perfectly. I remember that particular caddie today, because I just faced a similar situation at a golf course in New York. I was paired with three Koreans, and none of them spoke English. Being a veteran at the club, I was familiar with the course. I told them I was a foreigner like them but that I had played at the club numerous times. 

In order to understand the course layout, they decided to give me the tee permanently in that round so that they could read my shots and know my intended line and length. I was wondering, “Was it a smart move on their part?” Only time would tell.

During the round, I was performing better than usual. My tee shots were straight, and I was riding the hour. While playing, I learned two Korean words: Oenjjog (left) and Oleunjjog (right). 

My mind was busy imagining how humans developed the language for the very first time. 

At the course, foreign caddies and foreign players used gestures and signs to communicate, and so did I. Gestural language might have given birth to vocal language. This notion gives me a whole new topic for research. Only then would I be able to write about the history of language.  

Speaking of language, I wonder if the greenery of the course itself carried a dialect. 

The trees, shrubs, short grass of the green, long grass of the rough, boundary of the sand pits, banks of the water hazards, and snaking paths across the fairways actually speak to us. They communicate directly to our subconscious through a silent pronunciation. They can sense our moods through our footsteps. The rolling ball tells them the stories of frustrated and hilarious moments. The rhyme of our steps, the oscillating trees, the design of the manicured fairways, the wilderness of the rough, the smile of the greens, and the chirping of the birds all create a panoramic anthem —

the anthem that invites the golfer again and again to be part of it, to be one with nature. 

Nature and man are two vital phenomena in this universe.

Like the great poet Iqbal says,

You created night, I made the lamp

You created land, I made grail

You created deserts, mountains and meadows,

I made streets and gardens.

I am the one who makes mirror from the sand; I am the one who makes syrup from the poison.

Man’s creativity with natural resources is remarkable and unmatched. Human beings make boats from wood, and they make flutes from it, too. They burn it for warmth and pack their dead bodies in it. Tree is nature’s great creation, and man manifests its utility. He does so with so many other natural things. 

If nature would only allow humans to continue! They will make the rest of the stars their homes. Humans have made a strong web of roads on the earth and — most recently — developed the highways in space.  

All roads that man made eventually end at certain points, but their journey does not. If the universe is endless, if time is infinite, so too is human desire for more. 

“You show your worth by what you seek.”

Rumi

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

An Incomplete Birdie

A passion, an obsession, a romance, a nice acquaintanceship with trees, sand and water”

Bob Ryan

Some thoughts in our minds come from far beyond our horizons and some grow inside our minds. Our deeds sometimes reap feelings of pride and at others, shame. We sow some seeds of good and sometimes we nourish evil. The contributions we make in this world sometimes satisfy us and other times haunt us. Tears sometimes represent joy and at other times, gloom. Sometimes an orchestra goes unheard and sometimes our silence stirs a song. 

The best path to happiness is gratitude and in sadness, the best road to take is patience. 

Sometimes peace comes through prayer and at others it follows the sobs. We learn all this on the path of life and on the fairways and greens too. 

Golf is a game that teaches us to keep our balance both in good and bad times. Sometimes we get on the green in regulation. We expect to make a birdie or par. Instead we end up with an annoying bogie. Sometimes we reach the green in bad shape and one long putt surprises us with a par. The greatest thing I enjoy about golf is the ever present element of surprise. I love golf for the way it provides the opportunity to make a comeback after every bad move.  

The way it teaches us to forget the shank and think about the next shot. In golf, the most important shot is the next shot, not the previous. 

Today while I was playing a round of golf at New York countryside, the 7th hole was a par 3 on this slope 125, par 70 course, 169 from white tees. The flag stood in the middle. A huge bunker covers the entire front of the green with sand. A sharp wind blowing from the opposite direction and a bit of cloudy weather added to the conditions. I pulled my rescue 4 and hit straight to the flag. A great trajectory landing in the middle of the green, assisted by a spin stopped at a yard’s length. That seemed rather close from the tee. I started walking off the tee among great applause from my fellow flight members. I could smell an upcoming birdie as I was getting into my golf cart. I waited for a couple of friends to make their bunker shots. Mine was the last turn because I was closer to the pin.

One of them made a phenomenal putt from a distance, claiming a par. I read the green in detail from all sides of the pin. Finally I had a plan ready to make a putt. I practiced twice. Gluing my eyes to the ball, I eventually took the short without an iota of doubt. My line was perfect. Speed was accurate. I could hear the building roar of my colleagues. I was standing there full of pride, anticipating a great birdie. The ball began to roll and stopped at the lip of the hole. I missed it by just another turn, by one more flip, by the lack of one more ounce of being. 

Thus the surprises of golf and the astonishment of wider life are no different. We achieve and lose so many targets in life, just by moments or inches. It doesn’t matter what we get or not. What matters is trying. Only those who try may succeed.  

It’s not the destination that matters, it’s the journey. Sobs and smiles together make a life. It Is full of variety and taste. 

“The core of the seen and unseen universe smiles, but remember smiles come best from those who weep.”

Rumi

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Naked Roots

“Whoever has seen a river doesn’t resent giving water to the thirsty.”

Rumi

A cool breeze dancing through the tall trees tries to win over the peeping sunlight in this dense forest. The River under these trees runs determined and confident. The strong rocks and pebbles are irrelevant to the flow of the water. They rather add to the ambiance of the River. A crowd of naked roots of the trees on both banks of the River tell the story of eroded soil. I can hear the hymns of separation that these roots are singing in honor of the departed clay. The fresh leaves however clap in gratitude of being born again. Sporadically I can see small fish floating in the stagnant part of the River. A bunch of birds are out on prey. Some fly away with their beaks full. Others are desperately trying. Fish won’t give up its claim on these temporary ponds. I can see a turtle neck appearing and disappearing in the rocks on the bank of the River. It also has valid authority over these territories. 

A couple of sparrows are also flapping their wings after diving in the shallow side of the River. They are fully absorbed in their romantic bathing. Alone I sit on a stone bench on the bank, trying to read a book through my phone. I am  trying my best to belong to the atmosphere and sit there as one of them. Yet I am unable to read my book rather the book of nature invites me to read this place. 

The nature around this bench blossoms in full bloom. Living and the matter together sing a song of harmony.  The flora and fauna, carbon and clay all live in peace here. Only I want things to change. I want the grass mowed, stone bench to sit, the hanging branches trimmed, clothes to cover myself, etc. Everything else, being as it is made, praise each other yet I appreciate this place in another way. I want to use it. While all other things cherish each other. I want my own environment when other things like it the way it is. 

I know how to tame or eat the fauna, how to exploit or burn the flora, how to manipulate or use the carbon and how to handle or cultivate the soil. I have power to administer the River. I am human. I am the master of it all and my Master created all of it for me. 

It may be so but do I owe my master for all these blessings. Yes I am under obligation to protect and preserve it. If not for its sake for the survival of my own offsprings. For the betterment of my next generations. Exploit but responsibly. Manipulative but reasonably. Use it respectably. Enjoy it, don’t destroy it. 

“It moves at its own measured pace, for it has no reason to hurry. Tomorrow will come in its own good time.”

Sidney Sheldon

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

The Masters

“The very center of your heart is where life begins. The most beautiful place on the earth.”

Rumi

While New York is known for Manhattan and its skyscrapers, the state has much more to offer than that. Most of us usually don’t get a chance to see the rest of the state. Golfers, however, tend to go deep into the countryside, where they are able to experience a different aspect of New York. Today TeeOff booked me at a golf course called the Blue Hill Golf Course at Pearl River, New York. Pearl River is located beyond the Hudson River near Interstate 87. Leading from New York to Canada, I-87 is a beautiful, scenic road that takes you away from the heights of the concrete jungle to the heights of real hills. The Blue Hill is one of them. 

The championship golf course, featuring 27 holes, overlooks the Tappan Lake in Pearl River, which is the largest hamlet in Orangetown, New York.

Blue sky, shining sun, lush green surroundings, reflective water hazards, smiling bunkers, glossy greens, and mischievous fairways make it worth the ride. On the other hand, ascending and descending hills and recurring dogleg fairways add more to the challenge. I was paired with two New Yorkers. They knew the course like the palm of their hand. They pointed out the proper landing spots for me on some difficult fairways. Although it’s not easy to land a golf ball at the intended spots, I still came fairly close. One of those shots hit the tree branches and fell at a compromised location. I was disappointed when I reached the ball: there was no shot there. As I bowed to pick my ball up, I saw a gap at the bottom tree line. There were 70 yards, a bunch of trees, and two bunkers between the green and me. Desperately, but confidently, I pulled a 7 iron out of my bag. I played a stinger, a punch shot. My ball, flying low, crossed the rough and the bunkers and gently rolled on the edge of the green. I knew that one shot was a display of my skill and planning. I still am enjoying that one strike. My flight mates cheered my strike, and I felt good. 

Golf would not keep you happy for long in a round. The honor and hilarious times are very short-lived in the game of golf. So why is golf so addictive? The element of surprise remains active in the game until the last putt. 

“Golf can best be defined as an endless series of tragedies obscured by the occasional miracle.”

Unknown 

The Blue Hill Golf Course kept me engaged with its amazing scenery. The eighth tee box at the woodlands course surprised me with a grand view of Tappan Lake. 

It’s a par three.  The tee is on the top of the hill, and the green is at bottom, almost at the edge of the lake. Only a small country road separates them. It’s a beautiful scene and a difficult shot.

The ninth hole goes along the lake until it turns a bit to the right. I didn’t have time to continue for the 18th. Still, it was a good run. I can’t wait to return there.

By

Ahsan Jamil

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel.

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Drives in Daytona

“Some human beings are safe havens. Be companions with them.”

Rumi

Although I don’t know the language of the birds yet, there is no better place than the LPGA International golf course to learn it. An orchestra of chirping followed by the hammering of woodpeckers entwines my heart and soul then and there. Waves of enlightening melody and currents of soothing rhythm invite my intellect to create lyrics for the environment. All of a sudden, my flight mate in this round points out a couple of red-winged blackbirds. The amazing color scheme at their shoulders reminds me of the epaulettes of the pilots. The captains flew away as I was taking their pics. I can guess they didn’t like the liberty I took to capture their happy moments. 

Golf doesn’t like diverted attention and the next shank tried to remind me that I was there for the game and not for the concert of the wing flappers. 

As I was getting fully involved in the game again, my other flight mate, knowing my deep interest in nature, showed me a couple of red cardinals. Wow, Florida’s residents are so colorful! As my eyes were trailing the flight of a red cardinal over the lake, I couldn’t move them any further. I could feel a current of horror running through my spine when I saw two big eyes gradually but mysteriously floating toward me in the neighboring swamp. My legs were frozen for a few seconds and I wasn’t interested in the tee box anymore. The presence of an alligator so close to me challenged my love for nature within seconds. On the other hand, Floridians paid no heed to the swamp monster. Many things grow with us as we are brought up in a society. This brief encounter with the alligators of Daytona Beach golf course stayed with me throughout my second round on Hills Course as well. Our own fears live and die with us throughout our life spans. 

The famous golf course adds something to my game as well. Although I am playing with rental clubs, I am amazed by my own game.

I am used to playing with different clubs on different courses in different weather among different cultures. This morning, the whole course was working together to make me play better. The curvilinear coordinates of the fairways, Washingtonia robustas (Mexican fan palms, vascular plants like ferns), saw palmettos, the snake-shaped wooden bridges, not to mention the encouraging attitude of my flight mates all improved my game. We all made birdies one after another. Of course the short par three also helped. The company was even greater than all things put together. 

How can I ever forget my arrival at Daytona Beach, Florida? A cherished childhood friend came to collect me from the airport. Nature appreciates in its own way when two sincere people meet, therefore it arranged a cool breeze and a mesmerising rainbow to accompany us as we cruised through the newly built expressway. How else can a city welcome you better?

“Many people will walk in and out of your life but only true friends will leave footprints on your heart.”

Eleanor Roosevelt 

A walk on Daytona Beach Shores, the boardwalk, the crowd at the pier, breakfast at Hard Rock Cafe, lunch at Aunt Catfish’s On The River, supper at Crabby’s Oceanside, cruising by the Daytona 500 arena on Daytona International Speedway Boulevard, a drive on the beach in a convertible BMW-8, in the company of a very dear childhood friend, jamming on Bon Jovi & Laura Brannigan – it was a party. On top of that, I was under the care of my son during the whole trip. The old man had it all. 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Chasing the Wind

A roaring wind blows through the tall trees. I stand on tee “one” waiting for the freeway to be free for my upcoming shot. One of the golfers ahead is still in my range, probably searching for his stray ball among the trees on the right. I wonder why on most golf courses in the world wind blows rightward? It’s not easy to play golf in the wind but a lighter one makes it fun. 

Wind sometimes blows to make our hair dance and sometimes it shakes our feet. At times it flaps a flag and at others it rustles the leaves. Not all winds blow physically: some blow inside our minds. And those are the winds that shake us the most; winds of thought not only uproot us, they turn others turtle as well.

Ahmad Faraz, a great Urdu poet, complains about the pressure of air,

“اگرچہ زور ہواؤں نے ڈال رکھا ہے

مگر چراغ نے لو کو سنبھال رکھا ہے” 

Although wind blows very hard,

The lamp is trying to keep the flame secure.

Not all lamps survive the wind, nor are all flames doused by the gust. Another wind is blowing around us today and it is the wind of change. We learn of new scientific inventions routinely. We are witnessing solar power replacing traditional sources like gasoline at godspeed. We are watching advances in space travel, and much more. 

Every aspect of human life is being reformed yet the most dangerous and hazardous of the elements remain untouched. 

Hatred, jealousy, and greed are a few factors that bring humanity to the verge of annihilation again and again. We have seen apartheid, genocides, battles, and wars engineered by these human emotions in service of the ego. Do we need to control and contain our hatred, jealousy, and greed? Did someone ever try to learn how to curb these feelings?

As we are so sensitive to the improvement of human bodies, don’t we need to restructure our thought process? Our school systems, and training courses require a considerable part of our life span. We make excellent doctors, teachers, engineers, artists, and poets. Our intellectual training is remarkable. On the other hand, our society pays so little attention to building character. We just brush it aside, saying it’s human nature. Nature can not be changed. It may be so but I am sure our modern society can come up with something. 

I wish a wind would blow that would change our minds, our way of thinking, and spread laughter and love. It may blow away hatred and jealousy from our lives, with the winds of peace and equal rights spreading throughout the globe. A wind of gratitude and harmony among our neighborhoods and streets. Sometimes we just dream and become wishful. Someday these dreams may come true. 

“When someone criticizes or disagrees with you, a small ant of hatred and antagonism is born in your heart. If you do not squash that ant at once, it might grow into a snake, or even a dragon.”

Rumi

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

Cry of a Current

“Success is in the journey, but reward is the view from the top.”

Larry Stevens

In the wide world of a wild ocean a cunning current cherishes the openness of it all. A burning star in the bright sky invites the water of the current to evaporate and join a wider world up there. Melodious air runs in between and offers the vapor a ride on its wings. Intoxicated by the heat, fumes of water join the wind and blow away to the skies. Sky, who is the writer of destiny, parks that gasified drop of water among millions of others like it, called clouds. Clouds then travel to destinations unknown. Only the wind knows the way. Somewhere thirsty earth longs for the substance of those clouds and air blows to facilitate it. Yet the vapor thinks it was on its way to the skies. Temperature up there is lower than the ocean. Cold vapor is unable to cross over and it returns to become a drop again, this time a raindrop. 

“As you start to walk on the way, the way appears.”

Rumi

The raindrops fall back to the earth. Some reunite with sea water. Others land somewhere on the thirsty soil. Those who fall on sea rejoice and rejuvenate through their reunions. Others who fall on the land meet different fates. It’s not an easy journey ahead for them. Everything they touch desperately needs them for their own survival. These drops are a lifeline for so many. A drop of water is so valuable on the land that it is amazed by its vital role. Its significance multiplies and the value of its existence soars. 

A drop of water is a seed of life on land. 

The soil sings for the arrival of clouds and seeds in the grounds worship for the rains. All flora and fauna celebrate rains and so do the skies. Rain may be a flute of the angels and the rainbow proves that heaven exists. Flower or thorn, rain knows no discrimination, it falls on all. Not all drops enjoy becoming a current of an ocean again. Some become creeks and others run as rivers. A few float in tubs and some current in creeks. Some begin to stink in gutters and some sit in marshes. Many irrigate crops and some nourish aquatic plants. 

Not all who come to earth lead the same life. On this planet every one meets their own fate. And what is fate but one’s placement here on the globe. They call it existence, I call it destiny. They call it life, I call it time. I wonder what existence on earth is other than the state of mind. Drop or leaf, breeze or ray of sun, breath of life or fragrance of a flower, everything on this planet is just a brief journey. Lucky are those who find a peaceful path. And what is peace again? A state of mind. A dewdrop sitting on a rose petal wonders, what did I do to deserve such a great existence? And cries a current in gratitude to be back in the ocean once again. 

“And you? When will you begin that long journey into yourself?”

Rumi 

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf

The River

It was a sunny day. A warm breeze was trying to announce the arrival of summer. I was lying in a hammock among tall pines on the bank of a melodious river. Sidney Sheldon’s Windmills of the Gods was open on my phone. where it read,

 “Just remember, when someone has an accent, it means that he knows one more language than you do.”

Of course there are many accents and dialects across the globe, but plants, too, have their own language and expressions. Tall pine trees around the hammock form their own fraternity and they smile and sing to each other. One tells the other that “nature has so much in store that water in the river keeps running, sun keeps shining, nights keep returning and we are standing here for so long.” The other tree answers, “Yes, you are right. But the dwellers of these homes change sporadically. Their stay with us is temporary yet they disturb our peace so much. They cut and trim our colleagues, mow the grass, kill many of us to fulfill their own needs. They bring stinking charcoal to make roads. They paint their homes with dangerous chemicals. Constantly their vehicles emit killer gases. Their air conditioners emit hydrofluorocarbons, which are very harmful to the environment.”

“Yes,” replies the tree again, “you are right.”

“On the other hand they grow beautiful flowers, plant cute shrubs, they nourish them, the smell of their food is so great, they also provide us clean ground. They blow off fallen leaves, save us from diseases. Their contribution is rewarding as well.” 

In the meantime the river begins to add more music to their duet. What a mesmerizing sound the running water makes in the great company of pebbles. It has its own accent—and so too do the stones. I can hear birds singing to the tunes of them all. Squirrels came to dance and a couple of turkeys are hitting their beaks hard against the ground as if adding a percussive sting. I simply stick to the rhythm of my breathing, realizing that a human sound—no matter how melodious it might be—can scare them. At this stage I must remain an audience. And focus on trying to hear what they say. What message are they attempting to relay? 

I don’t want to comprehend their lyrics, nor do I want to translate anything into my language. I simply want to become one of them: to be a humble part of their choir. The running water, shining sun, cool breeze, tall trees, singing birds, dancing squirrels, knocking turkeys, grazing deers, and a peaceful human will make this planet much prettier than before. We can be there like they all are there. And that may be the ultimate song of harmony the earth longs for. 

“Like a shadow I am and I am not.”

Rumi

By

Ahsan Jamil 

Golfer, Blogger, Entrepreneur, Author, Poet, Wanderer, photographer, Rebel. 

Email: Golfaij@gmail.com

Website: Golfaij.com 

YouTube: Morning with Golf