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229Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!

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  • vivek ramakrishnan
    Dec 21, 2006
      There was once a man named Mojud. He lived in a town where he had
      obtained a post as a small official, and it seemed likely that he would
      end his days as inspector of weights and measures.
      One day when he was walking through the gardens of an ancient building
      near his home, Khidr, the mysterious guide of the sufis, appeared to
      him, dressed in shimmering green. Khidr said, "Man of bright prospects!
      Leave your work and meet me at the riverside in three days' time." Then
      he disappeared. Mojud went to his superior in trepidation and said that
      he had to leave. Everyone in the town soon heard of this and they said,
      "Poor Mojud! He has gone mad." But, as there were many candidates for
      his job, they soon forgot him.
      On the appointed day, Mojud met Khidr, who said to him, "Tear your
      clothes and throw yourself into the stream. Perhaps someone will save
      you." Mojud did so, even though he wondered if he were mad. Since he
      could swim, he did not drown, but drifted a long way before a fisherman
      hauled him into his boat, saying, "Foolish man! The current is strong.
      What are you trying to do?" Mojud said, "I don't really know."
      "You are mad," said the fisherman, "But I will take you into my
      reed-hut by the river yonder, and we shall see what can be done for
      When he discovered that Mojud was well-spoken, he learned from him how
      to read and write. In exchange, Mojud was given food and helped the
      fisherman with his work. After a few months, Khidr again appeared, this
      time at the foot of Mojud's bed, and said, "Get up now and leave this
      fisherman. You will be provided for."
      Mojud immediately quit the hut, dressed as a fisherman, and wandered
      about until he came to a highway.
      As dawn was breaking he saw a farmer on a donkey on his way to market.
      "Do you seek work?" asked the farmer, "because I need a man to help me
      bring back some purchases."
      Mojud followed him. He worked for the farmer for nearly two years, by
      which time he had learned a great deal about agriculture but little
      One afternoon when he was baling wool, Khidr appeared to him and said,
      "Leave that work, walk to the city of Mosul, and use your savings to
      become a skin-merchant."
      Mojud obeyed.
      In Mosul he became known as a skin-merchant, never seeing Khidr while
      he plied his trade for three years. He had saved quite a large sum of
      money, and was thinking of buying a house, when Khidr appeared and said,
      "Give me your money, walk out of this town as far as the distant
      samarkand, and work for a grocer there."
      Mojud did so.
      Presently he began to show undoubted signs of illumination. He healed
      the sick, served his fellow men in the shop during his spare time, and
      his knowledge of the mysteries became deeper and deeper.
      Clerics, philosophers and others visited him and asked, "under whom did
      you study?"
      "It is difficult to say," said Mojud.
      His disciples asked, "How did you start your career?"
      He said, "As a small official." "And you gave it up to devote yourself
      to self-mortification?"
      "No, I just gave it up." They did not understand him.
      People approached him to write the story of his life.
      "What have you been in your life?" they asked.
      "I jumped into a river, became a fisherman, then walked out of his
      reed-hut in the middle of the night. After that, I became a farmhand.
      While I was baling wool, I changed and went to Mosul, where I became a
      skin-merchant. I saved some money there, but gave it away. Then I walked
      to samarkand where I worked for a grocer. And this is where I am now."
      "But this inexplicable behavior throws no light upon your strange gifts
      and wonderful examples," said the biographers.
      "That is so," said Mojud.
      So the biographers constructed for Mojud a wonderful and exciting
      story: because all saints must have their story, and the story must be
      in accordance with the appetite of the listener, not with the realities
      of life.
      And nobody is allowed to speak of Khidr directly. That is why this
      story is not true. It is a representation of a life. This is the real
      life of one of the greatest sufis.

      Creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.
      Scott Adams

      Vivek Ramakrishnan Ph.D.
      Technology Transfer Fellow
      Office of Technology Transfer, Suite 325
      National Institute of Health
      Rockville MD, 20852

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