There is not in humans only the human

 
By whose infinite mercy
you came into this world...
becoming a small part of His creation,
yet carelessly pushing aside all He made, you search...where is the Creator!
If you wish to love the Creator,
first embrace His creation!
You push creation away, and thus cast Him aside!
In your daily prayers
first understand where the Creator is!
Only then, with devotion, seek Him!


Have you ever paused to see...
this mother dog lying by the roadside, wounded and hungry...seeing her,
when you offer a morsel of bread to ease her hunger,
then you become that very Creator—
Rahman-ur-Rahim.


That melancholy cat limping on broken paws—you hurl a tree stump at it,
proudly bending its soft spine two inches out of place,
at that very moment the Creator appears in flesh
and gazes at you with wrathful eyes! Then you are vile—a living demon indeed!


That utterly destitute person, too ashamed to look up, unable to stretch out his hands, swallowing hunger to quell hunger—
when you see him and secretly, hidden from all eyes,
extend your hand toward his path of survival,
then you rise to become another form of God Himself!


When you slap that dust-gray, broken-bodied poor man of the streets
two or three times across the face
to punish some trivial mistake,
then casually go wash your hands at the basin,
who calls you human then? I see you as a living demon!


When you give that laborer, pedaling his three-wheeler to earn his bread,
an extra ten rupees
to help him buy rice for his hunger-stricken, grimy home,
then you become God—Krishna, Jesus!


That street child who shoulders life's burdens before his time,
carrying an entire family on his back,
filling his sack with your discarded this and useless that,
earning two coins to bring wet rice to the parched mouths at home—
when you proudly strike his back with two cane blows,
testing your impotent strength from time to time,
do people still call you human? Know this then—
you are not human at all! You are the tyrant, you are Pharaoh himself!


That old man in the neighboring courtyard, bent low by life's weight,
never extending his hand at anyone's door, sitting day and night hoping to sell
a few unmarketable vegetables—when you buy
those rotten, worthless goods at more than fair price
and bring laughter to that old man's worn home,
then know for certain, you are Al-Kareem—the Compassionate One!


Creator or God—where do you seek Him with such yearning?
You are God yourself, you are demon yourself, saint or sinner—that too is you!
Call Him God or call Him Allah,
whom you hold in your heart with great wisdom,
whom you've bound in your mind with deep faith and love—
you are He, He is you...around you dwells
Rabbul Alameen!