Review by Harsimran Kaur

The ‘sacred word’ finds solace in the sanctuary of the revelator. Unbridled, it falls from the protuberated tongue to express its brevity; the wise often amused by their wisdom. You know wisdom has this discreet tendency to be isolated by the frivolous and impolitic. The feather-brained often revert; what wisdom has to do with sanctity? A word is a word—what’s so sanctimonious about it. The fools don’t realize that inconsiderate temptations need to be fought with. What would you call a soul living in neglect and astute priggishness? We would all become a lamprey, in lour cutting a lose canon. The ‘sacred word’ thus helps us to reflect on the imponderable and the impropriety.

Ever wondered,

• Why the Sun and the Moon only have an eclipse to surrender to their promiscuity?
• Why the unresolved still awaits the piousness of faith?
• Hasn’t the ‘ego’ painted an impasto of the solipsistic-self? Why then are we drawn to it when mortality is the only justifiable truth?
• If ‘truth’ beckons humility and the fallow of ‘falsehood’ reaps illusions, why are then we afraid to embrace the ‘true character’?

Paulo Coelho with his extraordinary wit sits on the philosophical couch to help train the human mind to be more reflective on the spiritual raison d’etre in order to understand the mysteries of the world.

‘Maktub’ meaning ‘it is written’ is a collection of stories and parables full of enlightenment and impinge a sense of reasoning to the counterintuitive and concatenations. The book is full of reflections. There is a story that describes a man’s magnitude to come close to the realms created by God; in blindness too, the eyes are in certitude of what eludes them. ‘Wisdom’ thus finds solidarity with one’s conscious to be true to what lies in objectivity.

The cessation of life’s miseries lies in acceptance of what is presented to us rather than disinterring the past and making it a phantasmagoria ruin. Don’t we love to carry the sledge hammer and knock at the ‘future forebodings’? For once, we can stop the extrapolation and patiently wait for the et saq. Why not look at the ‘present’ in its cadence to live without fear. Coelho sheds light on the edify through an example of a ‘banana’.

The book selflessly talks about connecting with the Divine. For most of us, God usually lives in denial. We may forget him but the creator inconspicuously rotates us in directions where lies the austerity of one’s honor. Coelho thus states,

“Just as it is impossible for a man to see his own face in choppy waters, so it is impossible to seek God if the mind is too focused on the search”. The solipsism of ‘where do I find him’—‘where do I find him’ is a cul-de-sac. The Divine presents itself through ‘love’ and ‘humility’.

Enlightening and illuminating, the words spoken through saints, sages, hermits, travellers and the master himself in the book find acceptance in the heart and mind of the ignorant. He who says, ‘I know all’ is faced with an impedance of judiciousness and is wrapped with a sense of euphoria in flagrante delicto. To come out of the black hole, divine intervention is required. So inviolably stated in the book,

“God only shows us his glory at the appointed hour”.

Ever wondered, why mind is supposed to live inure?

Invidious always presents as an iniquity! Or look around; most of us in a self-exculpating trance, creating beliefs to form a character that we love to live in. We somehow start living a delusionary life, away from reality, away from righteousness. Have we ever taken a sanctuary under the blissful radiance of the Sun & Moon to find the true meaning of life? If death is inevitable, then why we run from it? There is a purpose to our life, isn’t it? So why become indiscernible?  For once, look at the homeless window that straightens to the wall, hardened by its iron will. It fiercely holds on to every human emotion seen, playing a staccato of the imprisoned lives; envisages the ‘lost and found’ and ultimately embraces all to retire, to again open its arms to the varied perplexities of ‘fairness’ and ‘rudeness’; and still it stands tall.   

We too alone, stand erect and play a soliloquy of our imprudence. Incongruity wears us down. The ‘sacred word’ is an emollient rub on our naked prolificacies.

‘We finally learn to love and share’.

TAKE AWAY

Transforming and Inspiring…