Intelligence...(Shade...u had betta read this...lol)

The ability to learn or understand. To deal with new situations and manipulate one's environment. to reason. Is intelligence what makes us human? Is it what sets us apart from animals? Do animals have intelligence?

It is a recurring debate that has seen no end. Crows. They've been attributed with intelligence that almost approaches ours. Dolphins. They sometimes appear to understand us better than we do them. Dogs. They can be taught to do many things. Are all these things significant proof of their intelligence? Or are they just mechanical responses instilled in these animals?

We've all grown comfortable with attributing intelligence to people. Some of us may appear to have more of it than others (Einstein is an example of such a genius). Each time we cough up a solution to a problem or manifest thought riddled with abstract ideals and complexities, we conjure an image of intelligence.

Image. Perhaps that is all there is to it. An image.

It is obvious that intelligence is not something that can be clearly seen or observed. How could one know the inner workings of the mind simply by looking at the exterior responses of the body? Could you imagine what goes through the mind of a simple creature such as a cat? What about a dog? Let's make it simpler still. How about a person just passing you by on the train?

The complexities of our own minds is difficult to understand and explain, let alone the minds of others. Each of us thinks differently. Our minds all work of their own accord, taking different paths of thought; Making connections between similarities observed like forming pictures. Similar to the way we form constellations upon the night sky.

With so many different paths of thought, how do you grade intelligence? Is academics enough? What about wisdom, or street smarts? Emotional intelligence, is that even a form of intelligence?

* * * ~ * * *



Inspiration. That is where intelligence comes from. To suddenly realise and see how the environment works. To suddenly notice that the tides come and go with the rising of the sun and moon. To figure out the complex workings of a machine in numbers and scientifical clauses.

The spark of genius to come across radical ideas is what escalates our level of intelligence. It is what makes us more than animals.

But where do our ideas come from? Did we make them? Or were they "Divine Inspirations"? Is that intelligence? Divine Inspiration?

What do you think?

Could, Would and Should

What could, what would and what should you do?

We lead a life-journey full of choices, walking upon a road riddled with many off-shoots. When faced with a predicament, we make decisions.

There are more ways than one to skin a cat. Every problem has more than one answer. Likewise there are many possible reactions to any given situation. Reactions based on instincts.

There's always something you could do, something you should do and something you would do. At times the threee different categories have a similar answer, more often than not, they don't.

What you could do: This includes practically all possible manners of handling a situation. It provides an infinite choice, unrestricted by moral dilemma or desirable consequences. It's a primary purpose of man to seek a solution to every problem. As long as it solves the current problem at hand, then it's a solution.

Our range of choices is almost unlimited. Say you are about to go to school. You could take a bus or cab, drive, even choose not to go to school. All these are things you could do. The prime aspect of the human mind that conjures up this list of possibilites, is the calculative instinct. The instinct to analyze, compare and find the simplest and most direct answer to a predicament. The simplest answer.

Now we come to the word should. Should. It is a very strong word. What you have to do.

There are things in this world that society deems acceptable. That which is accepted as morality. Some of us share these values, others have slight variations in their moral compasses. Normally, it is these very forces that propagate us toward a set course of actions. The motivation towards this is what I'd call the spiritual instinct. The instinct that leads us to believe in a higher state of mind. The need for a greater purpose in life or to lead a better life, or perhaps even believing in a higher power. Abstract concepts.

The abstract concepts and self-imposed belief cages the range of choices to be made and draws the person to behave within his own moral boundaries. Law. That is a fine example of spiritual instinct for all of us. The law states that it is illegal to murder. It is harmful to the society, and as such the spiritual instinct would agree. The understanding that what one does, does not only affect oneself, but the society at large. It is something quite widely understood. A value shared by most of the society.

Then there is the "would do's". This involves what actions you are most likely to take in any given situation. It is a choice greatly affected by one's own sense of justice, morality and self-preservation. It is one driven by our most primal instinct. To protect the self, as well as ones closest to us. The family. Everything we do, be it work or play, has a purpose. No matter how self-less any of our actions may seem, it usually leads to a point where what we've done, is for our own good.

For example, we take the average working father. He works to feed the family, to keep the house warm and the family happy. What would drive a man to do such? The need to protect his family of course. But behind that, is the underlying fact that without them, he would have little else. And without them, he would be a lonely man. That is the primal instinct at work.

Everytime you face a huge dilemma, you take the time to run through all your choices one by one. Do you do what you should, what you would, or what you could?

We are all driven by circumstance, steered by choice. Be it primal instinct, spiritual or calculative, we all make choices. How do you choose?

Reality and Consciousness

Reality. Could it exist without a consciousness?

Consciousness. According to the english dictionary, it is "the quality or state of being aware, especially of something within oneself." Is that all there is to it? Awareeness?

Thought. Emotion. Coscience. Instinct. Could all these things be experienced without consciousness? Could you possibly live without a consciousness?

Our awareness gives reality to all. What we perceive, is the only thing that exists to us. Even dreams would become real to the dreamer who is in them. We make our surroundings. We make our world.

Thus, consciousness brings reality, change and life. Every single thing you say or do, all that you hear and see, anything that you can reason with and understand. That is all that is real to you.

Consciousness is the driving force of change and movement within us. It gives the strength to decide, assess and to pass judgement as well as law. It is the power with which we mould and construct the world we live in.

Yet, the consciousness is something that is very poorly defined. It is one thing to try and identify our consciousness, but it is another to attempt to gauge it. It is like the sea. It is clearly seen and its presence widely known, yet its depth and volume far exceeds the capacity of the human language to explain. (note: by the "human language" I'm referring to the written and spoken languages of the human race) It is our power to control; And it is also what constrains us.

How? Simple. What is the underlying factor that controls the human consciousness? What is it that filters and puts order and logic into what we see and perceive with our consciousness?

Belief. That is what governs our consciousness and thus reality. Our reality. Knowing all this, I ask again, could reality exist without a consciousness? Without our consciousness?

Life

As I trudge across the chasm upon this bridge of knives, I look ahead to the end that I may never reach.

May this life have a fruitful end.

Sembahyanglah Wahai Insan

Five times a day, up to ten minutes each time, bowing at least twice and going down on hands and knees at least four times everytime.

Prayers. The responsibility of a muslim to uphold. Some of us uphold it with devout zeal, others simply shrug it off non-chalantly.

But why do people do it? Why does a muslim drop on his hands and knees to worship a God that he cannot see? What is he doing it for?

A question for all those muslims out there. Why do you do it?

Tradition. Being raised from a very young age as a muslim plays an important role in this. They pray the way that they were taught to. The same way their ancesters were taught to do it. The prayer, has become almost like a cultural practice.

Habit. Some start at such a young age, that the prayer becomes an instinctual habit. Practiced for so long it becomes ingrained in their very lifestyle. Thus they will hardly ever forget it. It is a part of who they are.

A cry for help. When hardship bears its weight down, leaving no place for a muslim turn to, he calls out to God. He sends out a plea to God. He asks for aid and respite , begging protection and guidance in his time of need.

Praising his Lord. Indeed this is the most basic of objectives of the prayer: Sending praises to God Almighty. From the very first verse we recite, Allahu Akbar, down till the very end. Thus the muslim prays to praise.

Begging for forgiveness. Sin. It accompanies us with every step we take, each corner we turn, each day that passes. This may be another function of our prayers to the Creator. Asking to be pardoned from our mistakes and transgressions. Hopefully, He would polish our tarnished souls and brighten our dulled spirits; Washing away our sins through our prayers to Him, God Almighty.

Gratitude. Giving thanks. Showing remembrance for the kindness and blessings that He showers us each and every day. There are those who commit prayers to Him just to acknowledge this very fact to give thanks.

The reasons are many, but one thing remains clear and concise. The prayer, is commitment from God's creations, dedicated to Him. It is when the muslim seeks council with Him. It is when we speak to Him. It is when we praise and remember Him.

So why do YOU pray?

Lost Soul

In Our Hands

The only thing that is pure and true
Is not tied by the sands of time
It is not limited, not caught by the earth

We on the other hand, are caged
Tied to the land with no place to go
Caged by the very things we need the most

Wings we may grow to leave the earth
But never will we find the strength to cross the sky above
For we are trapped by the things we love

How far can we venture before reaching the end?
How far can we go before it sinks in?
That we are powerless, that we are weak

Would that the stars were in our reach, and the moon but a gem
Had we been able to pluck them from the skies
Would their light disappear in the hands of man?

Be this cage of earth and air for their safety?
Or is it protection for man?
What would it be like without the limits of mortality?

Gifted we are with meakness
Mayhap there's power within shortcomings
Look around our prison for His teachings

Had we heard the whispers of the mighty sea
Or the lessons taught by the endless sky
Purity may be found, out of our reach, out of our time

How would you wish to die?

Lying in wait as it drew closer
Seconds turn to minutes, minutes to hours
Pain, tension, loneliness. All of them here
His time has passed him by


They come one after another
Friends, family, strangers, all by his side
Wallowing in pity and sadness
All teary-eyed for him


None could possibly know how he felt now
None could possibly imagine
Tumultuous aches and pangs wrecking his soul
Nobody knew


What is he thinking?
He couldn't tell them
Not even if he wanted to
No matter how much he needed to


Never had he felt as lonely as he does now
How could that be?
They're all here with him
They're here to see him


To see him leave
That must be why they're here
Isn't it?
Perhaps this was the source


The more he thought, the lonelier he felt
The light in his eyes faltered
He is ebbing away
He knows. They know too


He lays in wait
These machines refuse to let him go
They refuse to let him go
Are they really saving him?


Would that they know
would that they see
The icy cold pain
The incarcerating darkness that accompanied him


Was this the end that he had so wanted?
Upon a bed, surrounded by beeping machinations?
Hanging upon a wire that slowly cut through him
Dying slowly. Forced to live by pump and tube


Had he the choice to choose
Had he the strength to decide
Is this how he would want it?
To die slowly upon a grinding wheel?


How would you want to leave? How long would you wish to suffer? How long would you wish to show them how much you suffered? Would you wish anyone to see? I'm sorry. I chose not to see. I chose not to see.