The Poor Rich Man, and How Not To End Up Like Him

Not much can render me speechless.

The other day a certain spectacle rendered me speechless.

This is the tale of the Poor Rich Man, and how not to end up like him.

 

I accompanied my dad to the mosque for evening prayers.

To me Praying is the best type of meditation. It has a divine structuring to it. It puts you at PEACE. Even if like me, you are no perfect spiritual being.

 

I don’t pray as I should.

I should. But I don’t. That’s one of my weaknesses and I’ll admit that.

When I do, I feel enlightened as if God himself has sent his blessings down in all their GLORY. Basking me in rays of golden PEACE and TRANQUILITY.

It’s all very humbling.

 

So, walking out of that mosque, I felt pretty good. Powerful.

What I saw next made me tremble. This wonderful feeling of PEACE was replaced by a rabid feeling of HATE.

 

HATE of what?

I shall tell you.

 

There was a man, a man I knew quite well.

He was my “uncle”, married to my aunt.

I assumed he had been praying too.

I shook his hand, he shook mine and I thought nothing of it.

 

And then in that split second, I saw it.

 

He was stood by the entrance of the mosque, by the shoes.

He had two pairs of socks in his hands.

He had what looked like twenty pairs of socks in a ripped plastic bag on the floor.

 

It suddenly became VERY clear what he was doing.

 

In Islam (and I mean real Islam, not fucking ISIS) it is considered your duty to help those in need. So, a lot of beggars take advantage of this and sit outside mosques demanding payment. A lot of people give them money in God’s name. I do not, especially if they look fit enough to work (which many of them do).

 

This man that I know very well, was not begging however. He was selling socks outside the mosque. Where I come from, that’s a measly business that is not much better than begging. I was flabbergasted.

My face remained expressionless, like a Swiss-man when war breaks out. I could tell he was embarrassed and so could my dad and so could my brother.

We were all shocked.

 

I know what you are thinking.

“ This guy is just trying to feed his family. Respect the #grind #dude.

Who are you to judge him, at least he’s not begging !

You are an APEX twat, not an APEX male ! “

That’s up to you to decide.

Read on.

 

It’s time for a BOMBSHELL.

This man who has turned 60 this year, who’s every decision he has ever made has led up to this point selling socks outside of the mosque to feed his family, is an engineer. An agricultural engineer to be exact.

Flashback 25 years ago, his dad owned the biggest pharmaceutical company in Syria. There was only one. Cameco, it was called.

 

This man got a job there with a snap of his dad’s fingers.

His role was consultative, he assessed the plants that went into making pharmaceutical products and made sure they were fit for human consumption.

 

There was pre-organised transport to take him to work EVERYDAY from 9am to 5pm.

You could say he had it EASY.

He had money.

He’d just got married to my lovely aunt, life was good.

 

Not for long.

 

It had begun.

It began in small doses. Then it escalated.

He started off going into work 5 minutes late everyday.

And then it became half an hour late.

Then he began to show up at noon.

The began to show up every other day.

 

You get the picture.

 

He was fired. His dad tried to guide him, but he did not listen.

He was fired

He had failed.

 

My aunt is a very clever woman. More loyal than she is clever, unfortunately for her.

She stood by him and helped him write a successful series of children’s books. They lived off that for a while.

Then when that failed he tried consulting once more, again my aunt doing the bulk of the work.

Then that failed.

He ended up buying a shop in the centre of town. He did the exact same thing he had done his whole life.

Not give a shit.

The shop was taken from him.

For good.

 

And here we are. This man, my “uncle”, selling socks outside the door of the masjid to get by.

 

This man had all the opportunity anyone could ever need to be successful, had a great wife to accompany him. It was all handed to him on a GOLDEN platter and he squandered it all.

Recently he has developed a fatal heart disease. He refuses to get treatment for it though, because he thinks the doctors just want to steal his ” hard earned ” money.

 

 

What. The. Fuck.

 

You see why I feel the way I feel?

There’s should only be one thought going through your head right now:

“ Noor, if you knew all this then why were you even surprised ?!”

Honestly, I don’t know.

 

I did not think people could be this stupid.

SURPRISE ! They can be. And they are. A lot.

 

HATE is a strong word. I do not HATE anyone, for to HATE someone means that they have you under their control. And I am under nobody’s control.

Instead I HATE what he has done.

Wasting everything he ever had

Being a failure. Being a nobody, and not doing anything to change himself for the better.

It is this HATE of ever ending up this way that should drive YOU, to be, an APEX male.

Because it is this same HATE that drives me.

 

His problem was his lack of commitment.

His problem was that he lacked efficiency, drive and integrity.

He wasted his life away.

Life is not about how hard you can hit, but how much you can get hit and still keep moving forward.

– Rocky Balboa

This man got hit.

And he never got up on his own, EVER again.

 

This here is an example of what you MUST NOT do.

It does not ruin simply your life, it ruins your significant others life, and it ruins your children’s lives and everybody you ever meet will be better off not meeting you.

 

Think about this the next time you are late for work, and you hit that snooze button again.

 

Until next time, APEX men.

-NDB

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