The Person Who Influenced Me the Most Essay: The saints are God’s jewels, highly esteemed by and dear to him. They are a royal diadem in his hand. – M. Henry
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Long Essay on The Person Who Influenced Me the Most 500 Words in English
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When I accompanied my father to meet the Sufi Saint whom he revered and used to visit from time to time, I was wondering what kind of person he would be, who had so influenced and impressed my skeptical father who never before had visited any saint or believed in any religious Gurus and Mahatmas. Our world is full of them. I had never imagined even in my dream that this great Sufi Saint was going to change my life completely.
How extraordinary he was, I came to realize when I started going there. There was a kind of aura around him. For one thing, although he had a great personality, which attracted, influenced or we can say mesmerized people, yet he behaved as if he were a very ordinary person. There, in his place, no one who went there could feel inferior. He talked with everyone in such a humble way as if the person who has come is far better than himself. This humility was the sure sign of his greatness. Generally, people called him ‘Saheb’. He never promised that he would do this or that. He simply said he would pray and asked the person to pray too. It does not mean that he never refused or did not speak straight. Once I remember a young man came with his friend. His father was seriously ill. The young man requested him to cure his father. He replied, ‘I will pray’. He again repeated the request. Before Saheb could reply his friend said to him. ‘Don’t worry. Saheb will cure him’. Saheb immediately said ‘No, I never said that. I have told you to pray, so that other problems or troubles which generally attack a family, when a good soul departs from that house, may not prove dangerous to the family. Prayers cannot stop death or other troubles, but they give you strength to fight them”.
What impressed me most was his total lack of pride. This deadly sin had not touched him. I had first seen him at my father’s house. Apart from being a Sufi Saint, he was a great academic also. He had written around ten books concerning Sufism, Sufi Saints and Sufi Concept. He had composed six books of poems which contain his gazals (a sort of poem). His books on Sufism are Kashkol-Ruhani and six parts of Rahabar-e-Tariq at and others. As fortunately my father was a Shayar (Poet) and he liked my father’s gazals so for some time till my father passed away, I used to go every Wednesday to his place taking my father’s gazal. That was how I came to understand many things about Saheb.
Once explaining to me about Sufism he said ‘Sufism is not a religion, it is the sect of love. Sufism is based on love to God, and thus love is paramount in Sufism”.
He once said telling about the quality of a true Sufi, “Sufism teaches patience and forbearance. A Sufi forgives even his own murderer”. After my father’s death in 1999, and due to some domestic problems, I could not see him as regularly as I wanted. Later during 2008-he fell ill and gradually, he was confined to bed. I went once to see him but could not enter. Then again with his blessings I was able to continue seeing him every Thursday.
Before I go further, I do not want to skip an incident when I was scolded by him for not learning Urdu and thus not being able to read my father’s Urdu Gazals. I tried to learn Urdu with the help of another divine personality, and I think succeeded a little bit.
These Thursdays were like a ritual for me. Hardly five to seven minutes, we could, see him.
Whenever I asked, ‘How are you, Saheb?” He always said, “I am well”, He used to ask first, how we were, and everything was alright or not”.
When we (myself and my son) were about to return after a visit, he used to say, ‘go with safety and come again safely next Thursday”. Gradually his condition deteriorated, and last visit was on 15 June 2015. On that last visit, first he heard my recital of my father’s Urdu gazal’s lines, and then got up and began to speak. He spoke for five to eight minutes, although he was very weak. He said, “In ancient days people used to travel in caravans. When the Caravan was on the road, a bell kept ringing. The moment, the bell stopped ringing, the caravan stopped. No one knows when the bell of the caravan will stop ringing. The moment the bell stops ringing the journey comes to an end. The same goes with life. When the time is over, the bell will stop ringing, your life will come to an end. You have to go on, till your time is over. No one knows how long the journey is. No one can change another person’s destiny or his own. You have to go on till the bell stops ringing and with the stopping of the bell, your journey is over”.
The substance of Geeta’s Karm Yog was imbued in those words. Then he again said, “go with safety” but did not add “come again safely’. With this last deep spiritual message, he said adieu’. We came back, although it seemed his last message, but it did not seem as if it was the last meeting because he lives in his followers’ hearts. (I know this much whoever listened to him and acted as per his veiled guidance, was never unhappy or unsuccessful, apart from minor setbacks)
He, like Jesus Christ died so that the others could live. His life was an inspiration and death were a lesson.