A journey of a thousand miles


A journey of a thousand miles —Zeeshan Suhail

When we set out on journeys, we do not need camel loads of supplies, nor elaborate farewell parties, never knowing when we may return to our loving families. Ibn Batuta did not return to his home for 30 years

Many of us have heard this maxim before: “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” The ancient Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu, may not have known how powerful an impact his words would have on modern man, or even those men who set foot on this earth hundreds of years prior to us. I was reminded of the saying as I watched a film called “Journey to Mecca” on a large screen IMAX theatre this past weekend. The film documented the journey of the 14th century Arab explorer, Ibn Batuta, as he made his way towards Mecca to perform Hajj.

The film was short, yet comprehensive. In a matter of 40 minutes, viewers are taken from Ibn Batuta’s Moroccan home and then through the major cities of North Africa, the Middle East and finally to Mecca. The journey is treacherous; it took him a total of 18 months to complete what takes humans 18 hours these days. We modern day travellers do not suffer from malnutrition, heat stroke, assault from bandits or the sand from desert storms. Yet Ibn Batuta suffered all this, and much more. In the loneliness of the night, only God was his companion.

But now, times have changed! And when we set out on journeys, we do not need camel loads of supplies, nor elaborate farewell parties, never knowing when we may return to our loving families. Ibn Batuta did not return to his home for another 30 years, while we are usually back in the safety of our homes within days or weeks, perhaps months at the latest. Needless to say, our journeys are less ceremonious and more end result-oriented; that is, we do not bask in the glory of the journey and instead, focus on getting somewhere and then getting back.

The film really made me think about the nature of journeys; how many of them are undertaken out of a sense of adventure and exhilaration. Many of my friends love travelling and so they make it a point to fly to unexplored locales to experience what life is like in such a place — before tourists ruin it. Others are made due to employment obligations. My colleagues at the World Bank, for example, make these trips all the time — and are sometimes quite irritated due to the hectic schedule one must maintain while on business travel. It is not always fun, is the oft-repeated mantra I have heard.

And then of course, journeys do not necessarily need to be physical in nature; we make journeys all the time in our hearts, through the rise or fall of our spiritual state. Hajj is a spiritual journey, which is meant to elevate our heart and mind to a higher plane of consciousness. Likewise, volunteering at a homeless shelter is meant to shed our worldly burdens but raise our spiritual status.

I have taken a journey of my own in the past year and a half: to Washington, DC. I have lived in New York City for so long, I practically call it home more than I would call Lahore home. But I made a journey to DC in Fall 2008 for employment purposes and thought I would be gone soon. Clearly, I am still here, so it is a journey that has not ended yet. In fact, for those of us working in the international development realm, perhaps the city we live in longest is the one we call home. Our stays in the cities of the world are transitory and our friends are always global citizens. Ask Shashi Tharoor. He may have lived in India for the first few years of his life, but as soon as he became a young adult, he embarked on a journey that took him across the world in various positions within the UN. He has only now returned home, to India, where he is currently a Member of Parliament (MP). Even he would not have imagined such a rollercoaster ride, I am certain.

These thousand mile journeys are the ones we often take in our lives. We never really know where they will take us though. Part of this mystique is endearing, while part of the mystery is threatening. If Ibn Batuta could do it, travel three times as much as Marco Polo and have a crater on the moon named after him, anyone can do it. Take the fist step; it might just liberate you.

Zeeshan Suhail is a consultant with the World Bank in Washington, DC and Chairperson of the Board of the New York City-based Muslim Consultative Network and a Board Member of the Washington, DC-based Americans for Informed Democracy. He can be reached at zeeshan@aidemocracy.org

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