Let Me Run To The Relief Of Those Sinking In The Mire Of Misfortune

Dasturji Dr. Manekji Naserwanji Dhalla.

When trouble seizes man and he is filled with dismay, his mind sinks in sorrow and heart bends with grief. When he smarts under poignant sorrow, he dives deep in gloom. Melancholy preys on his health. The sorrows under which he groans and the misfortunes he suffers, dig hollow in his countenance. Adversity ploughs his face with furrows, bends his back and dims the luster of his eyes. Worry makes him old before his time. He seems to grow a year older every day. Misfortune withers to an early grave.

Sorrow is lessened, when it is shared by others. Suffering is sweetened, when others weep with the sufferer.

Deeply does my heart ache for the sufferings of my neighbors. Let me gently and soothingly enter into the sorrows and griefs of others. I will not be callous to the misery that surrounds me. I will not veil from my eyes the sight of the sufferings of others. I will look into them with the feeling heart and strive and struggle to soften them. I will share them. Sympathizing with the sorrow of others and bearing of their griefs dull the edge of my sorrow.

When adversity confronts me, I will face it and fight it and conquer it. I will not indulge in melancholy forebodings. I will maintain equanimity in the midst of my misfortune. As the violent tempests and gales agitate but the surface of the sea and reach not the depth, so when I find myself in the midst of sorrow and suffering, will I try to maintain unperturbed calm in the depth of my heart.

Joy is vociferous; sorrow is silent. I will hide my sorrow deep in my heart. I will bury my misery in my soul. I will try not to give way to despair and dive deep in the abyss of despondency.

Yet weak and frail is man. When a great weight is on my spirits, when my heart is sore distressed, when sorrows and sufferings surge around me and I see no way out from my gloom and I have no strength to endure, I will wail and weep under my breath to Thee, my Comforter. Thou, I know, art at hand to soothe my sorrow. Thou dost dwell in my heart. Thither will I betake myself and unburden my breast to Thee. Deliver me from my distress. Help me to retrieve my position, when misfortune befalls me. Let bright, happy days dawn on me again, Ahura Mazda!

About Dasturji Dr. Maneckji Naserwanji Dhalla

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