Tag: musings

Philosophical musings

If It Isn’t Broken…

nhpureandsimple

Don’t fix it.

Have you heard this saying before?

It can have different interpretations, though.

The most obvious choice is to keep going, to follow the crowd, repeat the same routine, and perhaps make the same mistakes, as long as things are not broken

But isn’t it a dangerous advice?

I heard its equivalent in Egypt. People say, “if it works, let it work.

Same meaning, right.

But what if it’s working badly or awkwardly or uselessly?

Yes, it’s working.

Yes, it’s usable.

And yes, it’s better than nothing.

But what’s wrong with fixing things that aren’t broken?

And first, do unbroken things really need any fixing?

Well… that depends on how you see things.

Fixing can mean replacing, discarding, or abandoning a thing or an idea or even a person.

But it can also mean rethinking, reshaping and reliving.

It can be an invitation to make some changes, some improvements to whatever we’re having or doing. 

Imagine you have an old china cup with a few scratches, crakes, and maybe a broken handle.

You use it every day.

You drink your hot tea from it.

You wash it.

You dry it.

And you put it back in the cupboard safe and sound.

You keep it this way until its time comes when it either bursts or slips from your hands and smashs against the floor.

Some will throw it away.

Some will try to fix it by gluing its pieces back together.

In either cases, it will no longer be used for drinking or washing.

It becomes either a souvenir or goes straight into the bin.

So why couldn’t it become a souvenir a long time ago?

Because it wasn’t broken.

And what’s wrong with fixing it while it was still usable with giving it new ideas, new benefits, or even new memories? 

Sometimes, we don’t just practise this easy-peasy strategy, but we believe in it. 

If it works, let it work.

If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

Until it’s too late. 

Until we finally realise that everything has its time…

And it’s much better to fix it before it breaks.

With fixing thoughts, 

Nahla

Just writing

Hey World!

nhpureandsimple

In case you, just like me, are shocked and disappointed by what’s happening around the world, here are some of my philosophical musings, not on politics, but on gambling.

Now… before making any assumptions, this post is inspired by Dostoevsky’s The Gambler which I’ve finished reading.

You know what? 

A popular Arabic saying goes: Take the wisdom from the mouths of the insane.

You may wonder how.

Wisdom and insanity do not match, together they make no sense.

You’re right. 

But… who says that the insane are wise, or that wisdom can be taught to the insane? 

It’s not about knowledge or experience.

It’s about special gifts.

It’s an advice not to belittle anyone’s abilities, even if they were insane.

Back to the Gambler: the book was clearly written by a gambler with a warning as bright as sunlight in a clear sky. It seems to shout: avoid gambling, never try it, and flee from it.

Isn’t the gambler just another insane person born with a functioning brain, yet destroying it for the sake of gambling obsession? 

The story echoes that old saying, with a bit of alteration.

It seems to urge readers; take the wisdom, and learn the lesson from the gambler’s tale.

But not every insane is gifted, 

and not every gambler is repentant either.

With sound thoughts,

Nahla

Philosophical musings

What Does the Fish Want to Say?

nhpureandsimple

“If the fish comes out of water to tell you the crocodile is ill, believe it.”

I came across this sentence while I was scrolling through instagram. 

Is it a puzzle? I wondered, and decided that the only way to find out was to see how writing might solve it. 

But first: have you ever come across this one before? 

I’m just curious about its origin.

So, let’s set the scene first.

An old wise man was walking along the riverbank just after dusk. (Now, don’t ask me why an old man. I really don’t know, it just came that way into my head. Besides it sounds better than “an old woman” in the context of a quiet, dark background. And don’t ask why wise. Actually … I can see your point. Not every old men behave wisely. But, at lease let’s make them wise in stories. Now not more interruption, please.) 

Once upon a time, an old wise man was walking along the riverbank just after dusk, as the last reddish ray of the flaming sun sank deep behind the big, dark mountains. He was having his usual evening walk by the river. Whether it was cold or warm, rainy or dry, busy or quiet, he never missed this routine unless something serious held him back. 

On every evening walk, the old man had a plan—a simple plan to make a kind deed.

Sometimes he gave a stray cat some food,

sometimes he picked up litter and dropped it in bins,

sometimes he helped a mother get her baby’s pram onto the bus,

sometimes he sat back on a bench and patted another old man on the back as he listened to his heartbreaking story,

and sometimes he tried other gestures of kindness.

Until the day he took his evening walk by the riverbank, when it was extra quiet. The only thing he glimpsed that evening was a faraway, shiny golden fish bouncing on the beach. 

The fish was the size of a medium salmon. He glanced right and left, wondering whether anyone might run and catch her for their dinner, but there wasn’t a soul around.

He rushed towards the fish, not to make her his dinner, but to push her back into the water so she might live. When he was about a metre away, she made one great bounce into the air, and spoke in a human voice: “The crocodile is ill.” As she landed on the damp beach, a high tide crept forward and swallowed her back into the deep river.

The old wise man stared into the deep river under the dark sky, wondering whether he was dreaming. After a few long moments of silence, he turned and walked back towards the road.

“Even if it was all a hallucination… what does ‘the crocodile is ill’ mean?” He wondered, and sat on the nearest wooden bench.

“If the crocodile is ill, perhaps it means the world is finally safe. People can go out and about with no fear, no threats, no weapons. Perhaps, now they can swim into the river and get rid of it. Then, life will be safe, fishing will be abundant, and people will be free. 

“Or… if the crocodile is ill, it may be a warning of danger, awful danger. The river is no longer pure, no longer clean, no longer suitable for life. Not because of the crocodile but because of the river itself. Its water may be polluted, and the land no longer fit for living.” 

A moment later, a young man drew near him and gently whispered, “Aren’t we blessed to have this beautiful river…. Tomorrow we’re going fishing.”

The old wise man smiled. He had found the answer.

But… do you think which one was it?

With hope and peace,

 Nahla