Anger, revenge, jealousy! Those forces of destruction,
relentlessly waging war against peace, corroding the soul, erasing virtue and
leaving love in ashes.
Beware, brother, of the anger which erupts from jealousy.
For if there is a disease which has no cure, it is the anger which is rooted in
jealousy.
Satan, when God made Adam, felt incredibly jealous, yet
managed to control his feelings, until God ordered the Angels, and alongside
them the greatly knowledgeable and revered Satan, to prostrate to the First
Man, Satan refused. He wanted to be not among those who prostrated. So, God
expelled him from Paradise, and cursed be he till the Last Day. He is a clear
enemy to the Race of Man, and although the gates of forgiveness are open to
everyone, Satan has never and will have never begged pardon from the Most
Forgiving Lord of the Worlds: because once jealousy explodes as rage, no path
back there is.
That is one side of anger which absolutely in no good.
Nonetheless, there is a sort of anger which brews in the heart, in cases, for
years or even decades. A fellow you might encounter, calm and jolly, humorous,
yet a day comes when that same bloke turns crazy, his anger bursts uncontrolled
and dumbfounded all around him are left; a good guy, they say, went mad. But
hold on, you knew not what was brewing in his heart at the least for weeks, or
most terribly for decades! That is another destructive anger.
The most prominent point on anger lies in the undeniable
fact that it has to be removed. A constructive disposal, wherein one puts out
this fire with the extinguisher of forgiveness, and peace. Or there exists the normal
expression of anger which is at times justified.
And we come pass the notion of revenge, in the face of
which stands forgiveness. And though forgiveness is preferable and more
honorable, anyone seeking rightful revenge may get it in the exact amount.
Still, the best revenge is when you give prayers for insults, gifts for
attacks, good for bad…
And this this the spirit of the Holy Month of Ramadan…
Dark were the ages, dark was the time, Dark was the day, dark was night, Mankind sans guidance indulged in crime, The world was its darkest, needful o' light, Its fate, its destiny, unclear as slime. Dark, alike all, a sandy city lay, Where first in the world rose the Day, And in faraway lands shatter'd the clay, Of Ceaser's architecture ; and out was the fire, Of the Magians of the East ; and cry'd a cryer, In the city: "Behold! A son is born, A grandson of our cheiftain." That son orphan'd in early age, Left to his uncle, once went along, To Syria for trade, and met the sage, "This boy, I tell you, will be great, A prophecy'd prophet he'll be, He'll rise, and the world will see, He'll rise, and Satan will flee." Such was the priest's prophecy. Years then passed, and in one cave, A man of forty, in deep-thought, Sat, as he for guidance did crave, And as he there dwelt, he felt, Felt the presence of a noble angel, "Read,...
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