To Sir, with love

Mushtaq Ali turns God only knows how old...

Nobody stands alone. That is the law. No one person is an island unto themselves.

You cannot get through this vale of tears we call life without support from SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE.

There are a few times in my life I can remember when I was down to my last dollar, my last breath or my last good nerve and needed a hand from someone to make it to the next day.

There are a few places in my life I can reflect upon and say "There, that's where it all started. That was the catalyst".

There are a few people in my life who I can point to as the reason I am still here, the reason I stood back up, or the reason I carried on after dealing with some serious adversity. Some I am still in touch with, others I am not.

At my age (37) I would have thought myself a little too old to find or need someone who would be a mentor. In the past few years I have suddenly picked up a few, people who are perfectly old enough to address me as "Kid" or "Pup". Ordinarily this would make me a little irritable, except that the "Been there, done that" factor these people have is high enough for me to need a telescope to see it at all.

Having a mentor in life can be one of the most rewarding and educational experiences you can find, especially if the mentor is worthy of the name. In my life I have been particularly blessed to have had several at varying intervals. Each one has signaled a turning point in my life, a milemarker for just how far I have come and how much farther the road actually is.

Of everyone who I have learned from, none have compared to Mushtaq Ali Al Ansari.

I met Mushtaq in a funny way; I insulted him in an online forum at the request of my then-Silat teacher, in response to a war of the words that they were waging. I could say it was because I was a pugnacious youngster, a badly misled student or a callous individual and there would be some truth to all those. The honest answer is that I was just a flaming idiot. However, I wasn't very well known at the time, and Mushtaq had bigger fish to fry so he ignored me.

Years later I discovered many of the things he said that caused me to berate him publicly were indeed true. By way of apology I included a link on my website to his blog, calling him "A man to respect". He emailed me later that week, and as I said above "That's where the catalyst started". My life hasn't been the same since.

Mushtaq knows everything (just ask him!) There has never been a time I have turned to him that he hasn't been there for me, and I could find a legion of people from all walks of life who would testify to the same. He's one of those unusual dichotomies: Part holy man, part teacher, part humanitarian, part sage, part deadly knife fighter, part ignorant beer critic. ;-) Nobody enters his circle without receiving something, be it knowledge, skill or a broken appendage. Who else do you know that can quote the Koran and the Necronomicon ex Mortis? We have spoken of almost any topic you can imagine, and Mushtaq continually puts me in the shade for insight. I have spent hours debating historical discrepancies, voluminous emails arguing religion and questions of faith, and long nights locking horns with him on the finer points of knife combat. Try pulling that on your local Pastor or Dean of Admissions. Can't be done. I have been trying to figure him out for a few years now, and I have only discovered this: He probably breathes air. That's pretty much it. Whatever else is under that beard is anybody's guess.

In the time I have known Mushtaq, I have been introduced to a circle of people with whom I feel nothing less than honored to be included. He has shown me worlds I never knew of, and taught me of things I never suspected were there. He has warned me of things I should have paid attention to, and when I didn't listen, I vomited. You were right, Old Man: I shouldn't mess with Peyote.

Mushtaq is my friend, something I count high on the list of evidence that there might be a God after all. Today is his birthday, and his probable age alone could be exhibit "B" in the case for God(!)

So, happy birthday, 'ya crusty old bastard. I wasn't really looking for a guide. I find it passing strange how I acquired one. Life is funny like that.

Here's to another century of pillaging the village.