thoughts in public

31.08.2026

A: What is a thought in public?

S: Is it the expression of a thought and the assertion of an idea or is it an act of persuasion?

A: It could be any of those things.

S: It is a naked and vulnerable thing that is open to attack. It is a hostage of war.

A: With you, it is always the war.

S: Why not? This world revolves around the war. In any case, we live in the cancel culture. All are scared of expression. All are scared of their own thoughts.

A: And you are not scared? You who type away all day and night?

S: What is there to be scared of? Them? I am not ashamed of my ideas and what is in my mind. In my mind are six thousand years of India. As well as the whole of the West.

A: You have not read everything.

S: You do not have to read everything to know everything. It is a blessing from the goddess of learning.

A: But to the subject. The expression of thought. What is it?

S: It is the creation of the archive. In my case, the creation of the Punjabi archive. It is the expression of the counter culture. It is the expression of love in a world full of hate. Imagine what would happen if we had no voice? I create the voice, the being and the identity of the Punjabis.

A: Can you not have thoughts without identity? Like Western maths and philosophy and science and all of their disciplines pretend to do?

S: If you look at Western so-called education, you will know that it is nothing else but the expression of an identity.

A: How so? What about science? The objective?

S: Uncertainty in physics in the quantum realm has been theorised to stem from the radical uncertainty of the war time in western culture. The field encodes the culture of the time. Newtonian physics was wrong. It was based on a limited world view and understanding of the universe. It was the culture at the time that they encoded. Everything is subjective and based on identity.

A: Play at your identity politics.

S: Why not? It is what everyone else does. I do it with my heart on my sleeve. I am open and honest. We are Punjabi. This is how we think. I have six thousand years of Indian culture in me. I have been raised like a warrior on the Mahabharata. What these thoughts are are the thoughts of the warrior. They come naked like Kali, the Dark Mother. And these thoughts, they slay this world of hate and injustice. They are the way that has stood up to history.

Travel Diary: Burnham on Crouch (32,000 steps)

25.08.2026

In the morning, I woke up raring to go. It was a beautiful day outside and we were off somewhere, my friend Mark and me. It was going to be a surprise. I managed to fit in meditation, chi building, light weights, push ups and stomach crunches. As well as a crossword, a jigsaw puzzle and scrabble online as well as a light breakfast.

After breakfast, most of the morning was taken up with last minute packing (in which I forgot some hand sanitiser) and also playing around with my new pocket microscope that I had gotten from Hamleys. I just couldn’t figure out where the battery was and how to switch on the light. I looked at it from every angle, I searched the internet for a solution. I had a suspicion that you could pull the microscope out of its cradle and that’s how you used it but I didn’t want to break it by pulling it too hard. It later turned out I was right when Mark looked over it too and we got the LED light working. But that didn’t stop me wasting all the time in the morning looking at the thing.

Mark turned up and told me that we were going to Burnham on Crouch and the coast again. During the car journey there, we stopped at a graveyard along the road which had a good view of the Essex plain, which was a picture of complete flatness.

We parked the car at Burnham next to a stately Napoleonic manor from 1815. And then we wended our way down to the coastal path next to the town. We watched a boat being lifted and then lowered into the sea which was called Ophelia which led to us ranking the best of the plays of Shakespeare and commenting on Ophelia being in the water. We also walked into an area that had been devastated by wildfire. It was massive although had been controlled in the end. Next, Mark and I were looking at leaves and feathers through the pocket microscope, amazing views, learning how to use the thing. There were a few excursions into charity shops where we gawped at books and I had to force myself not to pick up one, a paper back on how the earth had shaped human civilisations over time. We ended up having, respectively, a cappucino and a strawberry and chocolate gelato ice cream in the pub. It was tastefully decorated, with a vivid blue paint on the walls and classy portrait paintings of animals in clothes. The table that we sat on had a mass of fake cherry blossoms towering over us as well as a large gilt mirror behind us.

I started talking to the waitress in the pub, a young blonde lady. I asked her if there was anything to do in Burnham that we didn’t know about. There was something she suggested, but it turned out that that was next week. She actually wasn’t from Burnham, but from somewhere nearby. So she couldn’t really tell us. She did suggest seal watching though. I got the young lady to take a photo of Mark and I when we were leaving.

We ended up on a pontoon that shook and quivered with the sea as we walked along it. Kids were catching crabs with nets down there. One family had them in a see through bucket and they were all restless with movement. I asked the lady what they were going to do with them and she laughed and said that they would just throw them back.

We then went on the massive walk where the dry grass was brushing against my bare legs and in which I would eventually end up with a small blister on one of my toes, which was much better than the last blister that I had got on the sole of my foot last time which was exceptionally painful and had come once the interior of my trainers had deteriorated. We spotted Oystercatchers and I had a lunch of sausage rolls and Hula Hoops washed down with water while Mark feasted on corned beef and brown sauce sandwiches. There was an interesting pill box on the way as well as a solar farm and renewable energy windmills. We ended up at the North sea where we sat on a private beach, all to ourselves, again looking at a feather through the microscope and looking out over the sea with my binoculars. Mark thought he spotted some seals as this was seal country, but they might just have been some stones.

In about three hours, we had only seen one human being on that walk. It was a brown haired woman who was very friendly. She had a dog with her and the reason we started talking to her was because Mark threw her the ball that she had been throwing to her dog so that her dog would get back to her.

We walked back to the car to dump our stuff after the walk and had a quick orange juice and a tea in the pub, which had a picture of Dolly Parton which we discussed, before we walked over to the sea again and the pontoon from before. There, a German woman that was breastfeeding her kids started talking to us. She recommended that we go to the Ship Inn for dinner so that was what we did. I had fish and chips and Mark had the prawn spaghetti. I followed my meal with a white chocolate and raspberry cake with amoretto biscuit while Mark had a creme brulee with some biscuits. During dinner, we found out that Dolly Parton had died and we were struck by the coincidence that we’d just been talking about her.

Then it was the end of the journey, the car drive back home. We listened to Dolly Parton songs and about her life, as well as about an upcoming documentary about Wham! and how they had been the first Western act to perform in China (or something of that description). We talked about George Michael amongst other things, Mark not recognising the song ‘Fast Love’ which is my favourite one by him, even when I sang it.

Home and a call to my girlfriend. And then my diary. And now? Sleep. It is 23.15. I’ve been up since six in the morning and will be up at 6 am tomorrow.

Batwara 1947: Sunny Deol and The Religion of The Mother

Film Review by Dr. Suneel Mehmi BA., LLB, LLM, PhD

18.08.2026

Often, I bore my readers by telling them about the origin of my name. My mother named me after Sunil Dutt because he saved the life of the actress that played Mother India, the woman that was playing Sunil’s mother in the film. He protected The Mother. A fire had broken out on set. He was her saviour. She fell in love with Sunil at the hospital while she cared for him with his severe burns. The couple married. Sunil had protected Mother India. And Sunil had married Mother India. His own mother. Here, in Batwara 1947, Sunny Deol was playing the man that protected Mother India. And this time, he was Muslim. What I was seeing on screen was the destiny that my mother had chosen for me. Not least, because Sunil Dutt was Hindu/Sikh and had married a Muslim woman.

The movie has not done good business at the box office. But is this because Sunny Deol, known for his patriotic movies, is playing a Muslim man in a film that criticises the Partition and the separation imposed on us by the Colonisers and the West? The director said that it was difficult to get funding for the movie because of this fact. Without a doubt, there is a strong current of Islamophobia in India at the moment. And this is the reason that films like Batwara 1947 should be made. Because society needs to be changed so that it accords with the Indian ideals of harmony and acceptance. These films are the education that society needs. The message that it needs.

In Indian style, the movie is about syncretism or mixing over discrete boundaries of religion. This is evident in the cast. In the movie, the Hindu mother is played by a Muslim woman. The Sikh and Hindu actors play Muslims. The content of the film is the same. Preity Zinta’s character will cook for The Mother in utensils that have never been used for cooking meat as the mother is a vegetarian by religion for instance. The message is that humanity is greater than religion. Connection is greater than the politics of hate and difference. This was the lesson that my grandfather taught me when I was a child. He would greet each in their own religion’s greeting. Celebrate all religious events despite the fact that he was himself Guru Ravidasia. It is a teaching that is familiar for us from the older generation – a lesson that those who thrive on hate have never learnt, let alone forgotten.

Above everything, the movie is about the religion of the mother. The religion of Durga, the Invincible, The Mother Queen. The one I bowed my head to as a child. It is about the love for Durga. The love for The Mother. The purest relationship and the most natural, as the movie says. The love that comes before organised religion is the love for The Mother. The love that comes before the love of the state – which the movie also criticises – is the love for The Mother. It is the love for The Mother that can achieve harmony and love in this world away from religion and statehood.

The old lessons. The women in the film are the fountains of morality just like in the Indian films of the past. They tell us that one cannot abandon one’s integrity for one’s life. They tell their husbands what to do to uphold right. In feminist thought, the angel conception of womanhood is often criticised. Surely, the Indian says, heroism is known for its morality. The women are being presented as heroines. Why would this be wrong? The hero, Sunny Deol, his fight is what we believe in because it is based on morality. Is this wrong too?

The message of the story is simple. Love triumphs over hate. Hate is peddled by politicians and not the people. Humanity is our greatest strength and virtue. Those who believe in hate are not human. They are not defenders of the faith because all they believe in is themselves and their selfish greed.

The dialogues in the movie were brilliant. It was well written. The music was good too. It was very emotional hearing the hymn of Rama and his mother. The acting in the movie was superb. It combined all of the classic elements of Indian cinema. The second half I found particularly powerful. These were the teachings I had been raised upon as a child. They were the teachings of my grandfather who had married a woman that had had to flee what become known as Pakistan in the Partition. Without making Sunny Deol purely into an action hero and typecasting him – although he still packed a punch in the fight scenes – the film raised him in my estimation as an actor with range and depth. Preity Zinta was also amazing and Karan Deol also surprised me as a talent.

love and the reasons not to die

17.08.2026

It is with sadness that we read of the death of Jason Arday. Such a senseless death from a media witchunt, whatever the reality of the claims of plagiarism. One understands suicide. But one is against it.

Camus wrote that there was only one philosophical question. Whether or not one should live. Whether or not one should commit suicide. Camus said that to kill oneself is to accept and become defeated by the meaninglessness of life. Whereas one should learn to accept that life is meaningless but to make meaning from it. To persist despite everything.

The Indian answer to whether life is worth living comes in many forms. But what is emphasised is love and duty. Whatever thoughts come, dark thoughts, there is always the mother that gave birth to us that would be devastated by our loss. There is the duty that we owe to our parents and family to look after them.

This idea of love and duty is thousands of years old. In the epic, The Mahabharata, the character Bhisma can choose the time of his own death. The reason he does not die is because of love and duty. He had to preserve the dynasty, the kingdom and teach and educate those that he loved and cared for. The children and the future.

Bhishma’s story is all about triumphing over death and suicide. His mother came from heaven and killed all of her babies except for Bhisma to liberate them from the suffering in the world. The reason he survives against his own will and his mother’s will is because of love, that his father the king wished him to live (and for the dynasty). He himself wants to die to escape the world and its pain but does not.

Then, Bhisma was a warrior. We come from the warrior culture. It is regarded as cowardice to kill oneself. And also shameful. The family would have to live in dishonour afterwards and one’s name would be tarnished. One has to live to fight. Life is a war. The duty is to live.

Bhisma’s story unravels another strand of the philosophy and duty to live. The thoughts of suicide come when one is all alone. Suicide happens when one is alone. However, Bhisma exemplifies that we are never alone. He is wrapped up in the web of others. His duty is to the dynasty, the kingdom and the people. He does not think of himself as a lone man. Bhisma wanted to die. He did not because of human relationships and what the Buddhists would call attachment.

One can add to this that Bhisma waits for the right ending, the auspicious time to die. He doesn’t let failure create the ending. Jason Arday let failure create the ending. The idea that everything is finished. One cannot accept the bad ending. One has to look for the right ending, keep on picking oneself up after failure.

In Indian philosophy, to fight against death, one takes up the warrior mantle of Bhisma. Even when one dreams of death, one forces oneself to live. The dream of suicide? When one is all alone, when one is truly free. And the answer to this dream? To remember that we are attached to others. One is bound by others. One has duties. One has to create the right ending. Because of love.

Travel Diary 13.08.2026

Today was results day for my two nephews. Anxiously, we awaited what would happen. It was good news. And particularly heartening for me because I had tutored one of my nephews and now he had got into the university that he wanted. The other boy, I had also helped to raise. These things are always team efforts.

After finding out, I headed off to Apsley House, home of the Duke of Wellington, the hero of the war against Napoleon. It was full of treasures, including an elaborate Egyptian dining centrepiece which was absolutely magnificent. The hieroglyphs were so detailed and done in miniature on the piece. There were amazing treasures too in this museum room, including much gold and many swords, some of them Persian and Indian. I particularly admired the mermaids on the trophies. In this room, I read a letter in French presenting the Egyptian centrepiece and thought to myself how wonderful it was that I could read the language so fluently. I had really enriched my life by studying the tongue.

I spoke to the volunteer about the fabulous Canova statue of Napoleon that was there, so heavy and big at three tons that the room underneath had had to be fortified. I told her that it was probably not my nephew’s favourite as the Napoleon section of the history exam had been quite difficult. There were many other Canovas too, which was a real delight, as well as paintings by Rubens and Velasquez, the latter which I admiringly gazed at. The rooms were all a delight and there were other treasures such as the oldest grand piano in the country. I asked one of the staff members what their favourite painting was in one of the rooms and noted that they had one of one of the places where I work. Apparently, she had also worked there. The banqueting table room was quite magnificent too and seeing it, a lady visitor remarked that the place was better than Buckingham palace.

The next trip was to Hyde Park, where I called on a couple of my friends to wish them a happy anniversary. By this time in the afternoon, I had already called one of my best friends, my girlfriend, an older lady friend who is not doing so well nowadays and the couple with the anniversary. I spent time in the park gazing at the floral beauties in the display in front of, of all places, the facilities.

Home next. On the commute to and fro from London I had been reading great tales from English history and listening to Hindi film songs. At home, I made myself sausage and ketchup sandwiches which I washed down with water. I went to sleep next on my bed.

When I woke up, I refreshed myself with some lychee juice and studied French, Spanish, German, Hindi, Punjabi and Urdu by reading short stories and the news. A few letters to my pen pals in New Zealand and Paris were penned and then I spent time booking things with my girlfriend then headed into London again to meet up with her briefly before I embarked on the last stage of the night.

The venue was the Piano Smithfield near the Barbican. I crammed in a Subway meal for the first time in my life next to it: a sub made out of pepperoni, salami, cheese, jalapenos, red peppers, onions and spicy chipotle sauce. Washed down with a Coke and followed by a double chocolate cookie. It was quite tasty.

The performance was STAGE FEVER Vol. 1 – Royal Serenade, about Korean music and love. Featured Artists:

Soprano: Soyeon Shin, Sophia Jin

Global Pop Artist: QoA

Featured Musicians

Piano: Leah Park

Violin: Sophia Jin

Performers

Stanely Dubentru-huret

Henry Chandler

I had fun listening to the wonderful music, watching the dances and taking many photographs of the event which you can see on my instagram page for my photos – @suneelmehmi . At the end of the performance, I got a photo with the very beautiful Soyeon Shin who I had immediately been besotted with.

When I got home for the night time, I finished off a Lindt chocolate and hazel nut bar that had been kicking around for a couple of months and then edited up my photos of the event and posted them. Then, I wrote my travel diary which I have just completed now.

solitude in connecting with community

11.08.2026

S: How does an individual become a member of the group?

A: Why do you ask? Who knows?

S: I can give you an example from yesterday. I was waiting patiently by myself for an Indian classical music concert to start. I wanted to become a member of the Indian community. Am I Indian? To become something, you have always to keep on becoming it. I waited and waited and waited. And as I sat there by myself, I felt myself becoming more and more disconnected from the world around me and the people in it.

A: Why this disconnection?

S: Am I of this world? Am I not a god? In any case, I was reminding myself of the time I was single and all I ever did was to try and find some connection in this world. All that time of being alone. Doing things by myself. Going out by myself. And never really meeting anyone.

A: So, at the point that you were trying to connect to the community, you were feeling more and more atomised?

S: Precisely.

A: When the Indian music came, did you feel connected to the community?

S: In the moment of the music, I forgot all earthly cares and troubles. I became one with the music. With the community. I went from being the atom into one that was caught up in the flow of the beautiful singing. One with the voice of India.

A: Did you lose all thought? All introspection, sadness and loneliness?

S: Yes. This is India. You are entranced by her beauty.

A: But by yourself then, you are atomised always?

S: Atomisation calls for work. When by myself, I work and work and work. It covers the ache. Yesterday, waiting, I could not work. It was a loud pub. But let us never become the atom. Let us always be us. The atom works for thought. I am a thinker. But we are human. We are social animals. We are India and we have to become India.

A: Become one with the music and the voice of India.

S: What else is the roar of The Tiger but the voice of India?

Ulting and Southend on Sea – Travel Diary 08.08.2026

The last long walk and day out that my friend and I had last week was from Woolwich Arsenal to Crystal Palace which was about forty five thousand steps (but I never managed to write about this walk). I was really looking forward to this walk.

After we dropped off my son’s friend at Stanstead Airport, we headed down to Ulting and the river Chelmer. The sun was glorious and not too intense and we made our way down along the river. My friend was seeking out an entry point for some wild swimming. Apparently, the Chelmer was known to be a good spot for this.

Unfortunately, the lining in my favourite grey Puma trainers had ruptured and my foot had been sore with a blister for the past few days. Today I was in excruciating pain. I hobbled along.

The river was populated by a number of families and couples. We saw a guy with his whole body tattooed several times as he walked up and down the riverbank with his girlfriend (tattooless). There were little boys fishing with their fathers and my friend asked them if they had caught anything. There was one very pretty blonde woman on her bike with her boyfriend accompanying her too.

We noted quite a few points where the entry point would be quite good and decided to do the thing after a quick snack. We stopped off at the lock and had a seat in the shade and cracked open a box of chocolate chip cake and bananas. I peered inside my trainer and discovered why my foot was in such pain. The rupture in the lining had created a hard nodule that had risen up and it was digging into my foot. Although my foot hurt, I had not been aware of it. I pulled it out. Then we set back to find the suitable spot to have a wild swim. It took a bit of time to navigate where my friend could get in but we got to it.

As we walked back, which was now less painful, my friend was telling me his theory about fishing. It was, he said, a sport where you hunted in one spot. You were chasing the animal in a stationary position, which made it a unique form of hunting.

My friend stripped off and got into his trunks and then went into the river. I had decided not to go in because I had caught a few things in the past from swimming and had been advised not to do anything by my girlfriend in addition. So I took some action shots of my friend. The water looked very cool, refreshing and invigorating and my friend told me that it was indeed. I was tempted to get in but decided that it was good enough to sit on a towel on the riverbank in the shade and to live the experience vicariously through my friend.

We drove down next to Southend on Sea next, to some parts that I had never been before like Thorpe Bay, although I had been to the grammar school there for seven years. When we got there, we happened upon a Toby Carvery so I treated us to a big roast as a thank you to my friend for driving us all day. It was delicious. I had a king sized platter. He heaped his plate which too much food but amazingly managed to finish it and was completely stuffed afterwards.

After that, we walked along the beach for a few hours. It was windy at first and it was messing around my hair which was annoying, as I am quite self-conscious about it. However, it was an amazing walk. We were scanning the ground for interesting shells and jellyfish of which there were many. I was picking up stones and admiring them and we skimmed some across the surface of the sea, although my friend was much better at this than me. My foot was still in considerable pain – in the evening I would see that there was a massive blister there. We managed twenty five thousand steps in the day though by the end. If there’s one thing that anyone knows about me, it is that I can endure a lot of pain and I don’t like to give up.

We came across a lady feeding seagulls which was quite a picturesque sight and I wish that I had taken a few photos of it after getting her permission. A blonde lady with a family took some photos of me and my friend on the beach at my request. She was a pro apparently and took a number of shots, although the final version that we went with was just the one straight forward shot that she took as my friend was not a fan of the diagonal angles. At one point, we walked though a massive Afro Caribbean party on the beach.

I went back to Toby’s Carvery at the end and got myself a chocolate brownie sundae. My friend was still full and didn’t want one. We had a final look at the sea as my friend had suggested some more wild swimming but now it was slightly colder and he had eaten a little too much so we gave it a miss. Then, at the end, what was there but the drive home? We listened to Dan TDM with video game music on Classical FM, discussing which sounds were palatable or not. The foot was super sore in the evening.

a break in writing

03.08.2026

A: Why have you taken this break in writing? Your readers are missing you.

S: I do not owe anyone anything.

A: In some sense, you do. They come to your writing time and time again. They trust you to write something.

S: In any case, what changes with my writing? The world is corrupt when I am writing. It is corrupt when I am not writing. There is no transformation. There is no Revolution.

A: You have lost faith in humanity? You have lost faith in making a difference?

S: If you want to see how much notice people take of you, try pursuing writing, art, poetry and photography for a number of years. And see what it all comes to when you do not come from the dominant culture and you have no connections.

A: I thought you told me that you do not give up.

S: You will merely have to see whether I continue writing or not, won’t you?

A: Do you think that you can give up writing. I would say that is not possible. We all know you. Come, what is happening in your life? You have the most eventful life out of anyone that I know.

S: It is a round of concerts, friendships, romance, reading and rushing. Rushing, rushing, rushing. To fit everything in. To keep everything and everyone going. And then, stepping in where I am needed in this society. Helping old ladies with things in a restaurant. Breaking up fights on the street in the night time. Asking after elderly friends that are sick. Visiting old friends that are not doing so well.

A: You are still waiting for the golden opportunity? You are still waiting to transform this world? Remember what they said in Dhurandhar, ‘The Master of the Field’. To have one’s revenge, one needs energy. Do you have enough? Are you tired and old yet? Have you given up the fight?

S: You ask this of one from whom The Mother expects? You ask this of one that Punjab expects. That India expects. That the People, the Oppressed, that they expect? Do you know why Vishnu came to earth in every age, as in the form of my namesake Krishna? He came to expel sin from the world every time. To soothe the tears of humanity. I have been born for them. That is the destiny that has been picked out for me. You would have me fight against my destiny?

A: What have you done to right the world?

S: Everything. I have taught refugees and migrants English. I have volunteered in after school home work clubs for underprivileged children. I have tackled social isolation through reading as a volunteer. I have written and written and written for charities to spread education. I send money abroad to the poor for education. I give money to the temple so that they can feed everyone and build a community. I give money to charity. I give food to the homeless. I have coached my friends with their ambitions and dreams of advancement, helped them get jobs, supported them. I look after people in public whenever there is any issue, no matter how dangerous it is. I look after my friends and my family, nursing the sick, preparing them for university, teaching them. I have educated myself without mercy to right this world. I write to politicians to right things. Everyone looks to me to be the man and I act like the man. And I do all these things while I have been in a rigorous study for a doctorate or while I work sixty or seventy hour weeks in volunteering and working. No one can say that I do nothing. And the ones that do say I do not do anything? What do they do?

Partition 1947

29.07.2026

A: What was the highlight of your day?

S: Yours first.

A: Chocolate cake. Chocolate is always a highlight. Cake is always a highlight. So chocolate cake is doubly a highlight.

S: Everything I do, I enjoy doing. There were many highlights.

A: Okay. So what did you do outside of work? What were these highlights then?

S: I went and got a haircut first thing after work. Zero on the sides. Looks much fresher. Then, I had a cool shower. It felt amazing in this heat. After that, I had a home cooked dinner of chicken and rice, a phone call with my girlfriend and then a beautiful walk in Valentine’s Gardens. When I got back home from that, I applied to do my Master’s in Art History at the Open University and messaged several of my friends to organise a graduation summer part for my First Class Honours, as well as others to arrange a visit to the Henry Moore exhibition this week. Then…

A: There is more?

S: It is not so much.

A: How do you fit all of these things in?

S: I’m fast. What can I say? Anyway, I also enjoyed chocolate. Cadbury’s Creme eggs that I got for sale after Easter. And one especial highlight was watching the trailers for my favourite director coupled with my favourite actor. Rajkumar Santoshi with Sunny Deol. For Batwara 1947 (Partition 1947).

A: The story?

S: What else would it be? The hero is Sunny Deol. He is protecting The Mother. That is my name and my honour. That is why Sunny Deol is me and I am Sunny Deol.

A: It is always protecting The Mother with you.

S: I am named after it. What else do you expect? I have been born to protect her honour. And she has many enemies. Many that would dishonour her and do away with her. We fight against the patriarchy for The Mother.

A: Non-Indians claim Indian men are misogynistic.

S: It is the Indian man that can honour The Mother. Lies we don’t listen to. And cowardice we do not follow.

three good deeds in five minutes

29.07.2026

S: It really does not take long to do good things in this world.

A: How so?

S: You really can do good wherever you go.

A: Really?

S: You know, just a few days ago, I stopped a fight. Two young men were beating up another younger man together. I stopped them.

A: Surely that was just a one off?

S: Not at all. On Saturday, I shared my photographs of an event with the organisers even though I was not paid for it. Yesterday, I arranged something for volunteers at a place I work in by giving my time not only in organising, but also on the day.

A: This is something that you often do.

S: Because I always aim to make life better for anyone that I know.

A: Any other good deeds recently?

S: Checking up on an elderly friend because she is not well. Again yesterday.

A: And anything else yesterday?

S: Yes. To illustrate this idea that you don’t have to do too much to do good things, let me tell you about my visit to the Oxfam book shop. Now, I was there shopping and I picked up this book by Steven Pinker about language, ‘Words and Rules’. It was on at £4. However, I browsed through the book and saw that it was a signed copy, with the author’s signature on the front page. Here was this signed copy in my hand. I could have bought it for just a few pounds. But I didn’t. When I got to the front desk, I told them that it was signed and that it was worth a lot more than the money they had put on it. In fact, it turned out that the book was worth £100 pounds. Therefore, in just a few moments, I raised a hundred pounds for the charity. They are now going to sell the book online. They thanked me profusely. I said ‘What kind of person would I be if I ripped off a charity?’

A: So that was another good deed.

S: Not only that, but while I was at the desk, I let a young woman go in front of me while they handled my query about the signed copy. And then, on top of that, I lent her my pen so that she could write in the card that she was purchasing.

A: You did a lot. But then, you realise, that by telling me about it, it appears that you are promoting yourself.

S: It is not promotion. It is rightful pride in helping others. When I achieve something, I am rightly proud of it. All of these examples above show that I am committed to helping others. That I try to be a good person. And yet, despite all this help that I give to others, however much I try to be a good person, did you not see how hard it was for me to meet someone? Because you are never rewarded in this life for being a good person. You go through life making things better for everyone but instead of rewarding it, people exploit it. They try to use you and then throw you away. They have no love in their hearts for you and your goodness. The ones that value goodness, they are few and far between.