The lessons of President Xi Jing Peng of China

I stumbled on this very enlightening titbit & thought lots could from it…. Enjoy!!

President Xi Jing Peng of China said:

“As a small child , I was very selfish, always grabbing the best for myself.

“Slowly, everyone left me and I had no friends. I didn’t think it was my fault and I criticized others. But my father gave me 3 sentences to help me in life.

“One day, my father cooked 2 bowls of noodles and put them on the table. One had an egg on top while the other bowl had none on top. Then he asked me to choose a bowl of noodles.

“Because eggs were hard to come by those days, I chose the bowl with egg! I was congratulating myself on my wise choice/decision and decided to wallop the egg. To my surprise, I saw that my father’s bowl of noodles had two eggs at the bottom beneath the noodles! With much regret, I scolded myself for being too hasty in my decision.

“My father smiled and taught me to remember that what your eyes see may not be true. He added that, If you make a habit of taking advantage of people, you will end up losing.

“The next day, my father again cooked 2 bowls of noodles: one bowl with an egg on top and the other bowl with no egg on top. Again, he asked to choose the bowl I wanted. This time, I felt smarter so I chose the bowl without any egg on top.

“Hmmmmmm to my surprise, there was not even a single egg at the bottom of the bowl! Again, my father smiled and said to me, My child, you must not always rely on experiences because sometimes, life can cheat you or play tricks on you. Never be too annoyed or sad, with situations, just treat experience as learning a lesson that cannot be gotten from any textbooks.

“The third day, my father again cooked 2 bowls of noodles, one bowl with an egg on top and the other with no egg on top. He asked me to choose the bowl I wanted. But this time, I told my father, Dad, you choose first. You are the head of the family and you contribute the most to the family.

“My father was very happy and he chose for me. He chose the bowl with one egg on top. But as I ate my bowl of noodles, to my surprise, there were two eggs at the bottom of the bowl. My father smiled at me with love in his eyes. He said,my child, you must remember that when you think for the good of others, good things will always naturally happen to you.

“I always remember these 3 sentences of my father.”

Xi Jing Peng

20 YEARS TO THE DAY

IMG0175A

Twenty years today we lost our father and we suddenly aged beyond our ages.

FATHER

Baba, mutuwa na da wuya?
Mun amince duniyar ka da wuya.

Father, is it hard to die?
We acknowledge the hassles of your world.
With life’s wards always roams a lie;
We all are reproductions of its mould.

Choking in the presence of its grip,
The inscrutable crux not familiarized.
Do we sit out the stages of its trip,
Like your peaceful love that wasn’t recognized?

From the weep the baby wails
To the whip’s lashes life hails,
These tastes we own and inherit.
Say oh father, is there better to merit?

Rest in peace Baba. We miss you so much, more now than ever.

the poet in the poet - Copy
THE POET IN THE POEM
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/451309

https://www.createspace.com/5195332

FATHER

daddy
(ascerpts from The Old Woman’s Maid)

As death wooed me for that brief moment in time, I was momentarily glad; quite selfishly, that I wasn’t going to see (my wife) leave me like I have always dreaded she would some day. In the quiet torment of the mazy-whirls of my mind I saw my father dying all over again and all my old unanswered questions came up for answers again, questions I have always wanted to ask him, especially after he died.

‘Baba, mutuwa na da wuya? Mun amince duniyar ka da wuya.’
‘Father, is it hard to die? We now acknowledge the hassles of your world.’

I have since learnt that with life’s many diverse wards, there always lingers and roams a lie and that we all are ordinary reproductions and effigies of these many lies. We are all choking in the presence of the grip this glaring falsehood and still the inscrutable crux is never familiarized by us. Now that I know all fate is death and yet all knowing, I will love to know from him what is the best thing to do.

‘Do we sit out the stages of life’s ending trip, like you did in peaceful love for all that wasn’t recognized by those you showed real love or do we ignore it all?’

From the initial maiden cry each baby wails as it enters the world, to the difficulties of life it grows to experience as cruel lashes from mindless whips, these tastes we all come to know, own and inherit with time, age and experience.
‘But say oh father, is there better to merit?’ I would want to know this.

Baba, mutuwa na da wuya?
Mun amince duniyar ka da wuya.

Father, is it hard to die?
We acknowledge the hassles of your world.
With life’s wards always roams a lie;
We all are reproductions of its mould.

Choking in the presence of its grip,
The inscrutable crux not familiarized.
Do we sit out the stages of its trip,
Like your peaceful love that wasn’t recognized?

From the weep the baby wails
To the whip’s lashes life hails,
These tastes we own and inherit.
Say oh father, is there better to merit?

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/383830

A FATHER TODAY

What future is there?

On this very sad Father`s day in my home city of Kaduna Nigeria, where three seperate bomb blasts had killed a number of innocent worshippers inside their respective churches during morning service, starting off a spade of angry vengeful violence, I suddenly recall an old conversation I had with my late father about two decades ago.

He had wanted to know what I thought our country would be like in a decade. That was in 1993 and I thought I was being clever when I said; Our country will be a land our founding fathers would be very proud of in ten years time.

I was so wrong and in a strange sort of way, I am so glad my father did not live long enough to see how wrong I was. It would have killed yet again to see the mess Nigeria has become. This land he had taught me to love and cherish like he did, is today the very opposite of what our founding fathers wanted it to be.

FATHER

Baba, mutuwa na da wuya?
Mun amince duniyar ka da wuya.

Father, is it hard to die?
We acknowledge the hassles of your world.
With life’s wards always roams a lie;
We all are reproductions of its mould.

Choking in the presence of its grip,
The inscrutable crux not familiarized.
Do we sit out the stages of its trip,
Like your peaceful love that wasn’t recognized?

From the weep the baby wails
To the whip’s lashes life hails,
These tastes we own and inherit.
Say oh father, is there better to merit?

POEMS: Aeon of Dew, Common Story, Goats & Father

AEON OF DEW

Crept in mourning morning
Crying away thy sorrow.
Skies’ spittle woke sobbing,
Burying the last morrow.

Whispers roam on a wind
Saying words all heard,
Soothe the first twilight’s mind
As early snakes grow a beard.

Tender heavenly rays announce
Judge’s back from a night abroad.
This first creation another ounce
In a repertoire of realms so broad.

COMMON STORY

“In days old and long gone by
A young Goat still with speech
Asked humans as he went by
Their old time wasting pitch.

“‘Have you seen my wives go by?’
‘Wives?’ They jeer and returned.
Enquiries to, the grown kid comply.
‘Wives,’ he so proudly confirmed.

“‘No laddie,’ their answer did fly.
‘We only saw your full mothers
And so many sisters walk by.’
‘But they’re all my wives, my brothers.’”

GOATS

POEM
Singing whispers talk to the Angels,
The embers of dieing souls yet float.
Smell and eat the matrimony of singles,
The adulterous flesh of the human Goat.

PROSE
Beautiful, sweet, soft words speak to the good,
Firing up the hapless situation with much wood.
Enjoying fully ungodly coupling of unwedded hope,
Grown up, unethical nature of the animalistic dope.

FATHER

Baba, mutuwa na da wuya?
Mun amince duniyar ka da wuya.

Father, is it hard to die?
We acknowledge the hassles of your world.
With life’s wards always roams a lie;
We all are reproductions of its mould.

Choking in the presence of its grip,
The inscrutable crux not familiarized.
Do we sit out the stages of its trip,
Like your peaceful love that wasn’t recognized?

From the weep the baby wails
To the whip’s lashes life hails,
These tastes we own and inherit.
Say oh father, is there better to merit?