I like what you write Lamya. Though I must also say that there are plenty of those real idiots around – :p

Savita, reading your message made me went through a deju-vu feeling.
A very strong one.

I want to add here this thought.. that “knowledge is not learnt” it is already in you. It is that we are not aware of it or not time to recognize it yet. We are not empty vessel waiting to be filled up…. rather we are already filled up with that knowledge only to be revealed layer by layer during our life span here on earth.

… here goes… clicking on the Submit button..

A friend was taking me to the airport a few days ago. It was very early on a Sunday morning, in London, and suddenly we came upon a motorcycle accident. It looked really bad. The ambulance was already there, but the man was still on the pavement; his bike, scattered, in pieces, from one side of the road to the other. The pavement was wet, black, and the lights of the ambulance reflected off its surface in an erie glow. We drove by, slowly, in silence. Because I always interpret these things as “signs,” with meaning, my mind began scrambling to reach some interpretation. Then, a few minutes later, my friend spoke. He said, “Thank God we weren’t the first to arrive.” I just looked at him, because it struck me as an odd thing to say, which apparently made him feel the need to explain. “I mean, so that we wouldn’t have to see….” he said, and his voice trailed off into another long silence that lasted almost all the way to the airport.

I remember once, in Italy, when I was the first to arrive. In fact, I was riding right along beside a guy, a stranger, when he crashed his motorino into the back of a car. I held his head in my lap until the ambulance arrived. He lost all of his front teeth, and his whole face was almost unrecognizable as a face. When they loaded him into the ambulance and closed the door, I called out, “Hey, you forgot his teeth.” Somehow in my mind I had this idea that maybe they could be put back in, although I don’t know if that is medically possible of not. At any rate, the EMT rolled down the window of the ambulance and I handed him the man’s teeth, which I had picked up from the pavement and wrapped in my scarf. When the ambulance whisked him away, I never saw him again. I didn’t realize until the whole thing was over that I was actually in shock myself.

I don’t know how I got to be there first at that accident; I mean, there were other riders on the road, both cars and motorinos all clustered there together, at least half a dozen people almost within arm’s reach. But somehow I was the one that got to him first, the one who ended up with his head in my lap and, afterward, his blood all over my clothes. It wasn’t something that I would have consciously chosen – oh, let me go see if I can be the first one to arrive at a horrible accident – but, at the same time, it isn’t something I regret. I would never say, “Oh, thank God I wasn’t the first one to get there.” It just seemed like something that was meant to be, like destined, in a sense.

This makes me think of karma, and past lives. (Not that everyone believes in this – and I’m certainly not trying to convince anyone – it just comes to my mind.) How do we know who this person was? Or if we have perhaps know them before, perhaps in some past life? Maybe we owe them this. Maybe it is a debt repaid – just our simple presence in the moment when this person was so distraught and afraid, just the presence of another human being, the touch of a caring hand. Just not to be alone in that moment might mean more than we could ever imagine. I should certainly pray that if ever I am in such an accident that the first person on the scene does not shy away or drive on by or stand frozen in fear. I hope that they show as much courage as you showed today, Jessica.

Love,
Savita

Peace.

Savita