Begging Bowl Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Begging bowl

Being child of parents
For their time strange,
I, always, meant to learn
Learn and learn to the end.

A home taught was mother,
My father, illiterate…

But latter had in him
Eagerness for learning.

Once, on road, in village
He cornered the teacher
And put him against wall:
"Either teach me to read
Or kill you just like this! "

Teacher thought was dream
For a man, such yearning:
"To read, write is willing
To commit my killing? "

My father learned to read
Scratched as writing…

He, son of a farmer
Had married a rich girl
But pride had taught him:
"Must be independent! "

Always, I wished the field
Of becoming dervish
Carrying large Kashkul
Tied to a long stick
That rested on shoulder
When walking and singing.

Its base was Coco de Mer
Around it, thin silver
Had the name of Allah
With the names of Imams…

It seemed like begging but
Had other meaning, bowl:
"Empty your ego
And shatter your pride…"

These days, if am in town
Look around like a child,
In times, go close, watch
The beggars on roadside.

Read the writings they have
Showing that are homeless,
Hungry, and jobless…

Do not look down on them
Unless am sure, confirmed:
"This one is abuser…"

So, humble I felt when
Army for Salvation.
Asked me to go to mall
Near door and some shops
Where hanger had a sign:
"We accept donations
For helping the people
Of in need, desperate."

Shook my bells and smiled,
To attract people, called:
"Please come, be with us…"

Felt myself on Dead Lake
Walking with confidence
Exactly like Jesus…

Begging bowl or Kashkul
For me was Bible, book
To tell me: "Volunteer,
to help, make life better
for the world and safer."

Miraculous is this bowl.