The pen broke, and the page was torn.

Do you see this man who has fallen asleep while we were talking? That  slumber is not a sign of heedlessness, but safety and security. Like a caravan travelling along a difficult and dangerous road on a dark night, they drive on in fear, lest harm should befall them. But as soon as the voice of a dog, or cock, reaches their ears and they and a village, they are carefree. They stretch out their legs and sleep sweetly. On the road, where not a sound or murmur would disturb them, they cannot sleep out of fear. But in the village they and security, and with all the barking of dogs and crowing of cocks, still they are happy and fall asleep.  

Our words also derive from community and security, they are the sayings of prophets and saints. When soul hears the words of those familiar friends, it feels secure and is delivered from any fear, for upon these words is wafted a scent of hope and felicity.  

Just as those travelers on that dark night think that every moment thieves are mingling with their caravan, so they desire to hear the words of their fellow travelers and to recognize them by their words. Once they hear their friends speak they feel secure. The same is true with you. Because your essence is subtle, glances are not enough for us, but if you speak we will then hear that familiar friend of our spirits and feel secure and at peace. So speak!  

A certain mouse inhabiting a cornfield is invisible, being so small, but once it makes a sound, then people know it by means of its sound. And so, people are utterly immersed in the cornfield of this world, and your essence, being extremely subtle, is invisible. So speak, that they may recognize you.  When we long to see a certain place, our heart goes first to experience the conditions there. Then our heart returns and draws our body along. Now all the men and women of this world are like bodies in relation to the saints and the prophets, who are the heart of this world. These beings of the heart first journeyed to the other world, leaving their human attributes of flesh and skin. They surveyed the depths and heights of that world, and traversed all the stages, until they knew the way. Then they came back and summoned mankind, saying, “Come to that original world! For this world is a bleak and empty ruin compared to that garden we have discovered.”  

From this you should realize that the heart is always attached to its beloved, and has no need to traverse the stages, no need to fear highwaymen, no need of the mule’s packsaddle. It is the wretched body that is tied to these things.  

I said to my heart,

“How is it you are barred from the service

Of He whose name you bless?”

My heart replied,

“You misread the signs.

I am constantly in His service,

You are the one astray.”

Wherever you are, no matter what may happen, always strive to be a lover, a passionate lover. Once love has become your property you will be a lover eternally, in the grave, at the resurrection, or in Paradise, for ever and ever. When you have sown wheat, wheat will surely grow, stocks of wheat will fill the shed, loaves of wheat will fill the oven.

When Majnun wanted to write a letter to Laila, he took a pen in his hand and wrote:

Your name is on my tongue, Your image is within my sight, Your memory

fills my heart, Where, then, can I write?

Your image dwells in my sight, Your name never leaves my tongue,

Your memory occupies the depths of my soul, so where am I to write, see-

ing that You are here in all these places? 

The pen broke, and the page was torn.

Many are those whose heart is full of such reality, but they cannot express the words in terms of speech. This is not surprising, and is no limit to that love. On the contrary, the root of the matter is the heart, yearning, and passion. A child is in love with milk, and from milk it derives succor and strength, yet the child cannot explain milk or describe it, saying, “What pleasure I and in drinking milk, and how weak and anguished I would be without it.” The child has no words for it, yet still it desires milk. Most grown people, on the other hand, even though they might describe milk in a thousand ways, still they and no such pleasure or delight in milk like they did as children.

Discourse 44, FI HI MA FIHI Discourses of Rumi


Image courtesy: http://uneviedartiste.blogspot.com/

Change of Times ...

And yet again, the night seemed like a story out of the Arabian Nights. One that descended onto the sky just to stay there forever; like a lover's sigh, like a gypsy's curse.  

He thought and tried to concentrate on how life would be the next morning, under the new sun. But the blackness of the bleak night invaded his vision everytime his thought kissed the radiant face of a sunny morning. 

With his eyes settled on the feeble new moon, his heart ached with the anxiety of the unforeseen, the fear of the unknown. He cursed not having read Tolestoy's complete collection. They said he wrote the best tragedies. Who knows, probably he belonged to them;  was merely a character out of any of those! His aching heart sank a little further and he averted his gaze, away from its feeble hanger. 

What if tomorrow REALLY never comes? His mind asked as his sight grazed the gloomy sky seeking a trace of light. What if life is just a continuum, devoid of any yesterdays and tomorrows? What if the calendars and the ticking watches had all been invented by some clueless idle minds as a cheap ploy for the fools? What if time, 'the time', was merely a hoax? A virtual reality, with nothing real inside? 

As his mind began to craze into actively dissociating itself from the reality, he heard his heart drumming into his ears. With each beat he could visualize his madness turning into a physical being, a being that surrounded him like a windowless death cell, over powering his senses, his sanity. 

He winced over the strength of that mastering gloom, when suddenly his tired sheen-less eyes again traced the boundary of that forlorn soldier that was stripped off his shinning armor but was still battling the looming darkness in the vast expanse of the sky. His heart went out for it. And then like a bolt of lightening a realization hit him. Hit him hard. He looked intently at the moon, smiled and then looked at the sky, in the opposite direction. A little while from now, and the moon would no longer need to wage war against the darkness alone. The rising sun from the east would take care of it. 

The rising sun from the east suddenly became a reality that asked to be believed in, just like that limitless expanse of black in front of his eyes. It became a reality almost touchable. He closed his eyes and hearing his drumming heart slowing down in his chest, felt the sky scrapper walls of his death cell crumbling down to a cloud of dust. His dry lips cracked into a smile filled with gratitude as he murmured, rendering his voice to the almost touchable reality whose realization had hit him like a bolt of lightening. "Seest thou not that Allah merges Night into Day And He merges Day into Night?" 

Time was not a hoax after all. It was a reality more real than anything else. It was the Divine promise. It was the change. The Change. 

His heart trembled with the raveling realization as he began to experience the change. The horizon towards the east bore a witness to the change. 

It was the break of dawn.

yaad nigaar

23 weeks and 5 days .... 3984 hours ...... and a lifetime that slipped through in between.....

It was uncomfortable, awkward; but more than anything else ... Painful. PAINFUL.

Wish, we could have known people like we thought they were ..... why would they want to be what we couldnt ever believe them to be ...... 

Couldn't help but realize the utter dryness in this pair of eyes in contrast of those wet, red ones ...... couldn't help .........

This song became my favorite through the playlist that those ears were accustomed to listen to ...... couldn't help but recalling it ........

A White Wash

I dont know for what reason I recalled it, but feel like sharing it here. 

As the story goes, Moses once asked God as to who was the most abominable man on earth of those times, since he wanted to see that who could be such a thankless being to such a bountiful Lord. God gave him the address. Moses went there and found the man's wife. He told her the purpose of his visit; the man's wife agreed that her husband had the every thinkable wickedness of character and vouched that it could only be him who could have been the most abominable man on earth. 

The next day, Moses asked God as to who was the best man on earth of those times. God gave him the address, and to Moses' utter surprise it was the same address that he had been given the previous day. Nonetheless, he went there and found the man's wife again. 

Startled as he was, he asked her if she had noticed any change in her husband's behaviour for such a bizarre change in status overnight! The lady said, 'After you left yesterday I waited for my husband and after he laid down to rest at night, I asked him, " O my master, what do you think is the greatest thing?" he said "elephant". I asked " and what is greater than even an elephant?" and he replied, "a whale". I asked "O my lord! what is bigger than even a whale?" and he said" the mountains, and rivers"; and I said "and what my lord could be bigger than even the mountains and seas?", at this he stopped and said "my vices". I stayed quiet for a while and not knowing how to close the conversation, asked him casually, "is there anything greater than even your vices?", a tear rolled down his cheek and he sobbed "Almighty's mercy!" ". 

Moses returned back. He had got his answer.

Image Courtesy: Painting by Rober John Bosler

Everything Happens to Me

This song by the maestro Sinatra is such an endearingly innocent expression that I instantly fell in love with it. It so truly reflects the irony of fate of someone that, at more often than not, is each one of us :)

Though right now I don't think any other thing than the lovely sky is blue, yet I can't help just relishing this number with an 'awww cuteeee!' :) And ABSOLUTELY not without an oozing sense of gratitude for everything that happens to me ;) 

"Everything Happens to me"

Writer(s): Dennis/Adair

Black cats creep across my path

Until Im almost mad

I must have roused the devils wrath

'cause all my luck is bad

I make a date for golf – and you can bet your life it rains.

I try to give a party - but the guy upstairs complains.

I guess I'll go thru life just catching colds and missing trains;

Everything happens to me.

I never miss a thing - I've had measles and the mumps.

And every time I play my ace my partner always trumps.

I guess I'm just a fool who never looks before he jumps;

Everything happens to me.

At first my heart thought you could break this jinx for me.

That love would turn the trick to end despair.

But now, I just can't fool this head that thinks for me.

I've mortgaged all my castles in the air.

I telegraphed and phoned, sent an Air Mail Special, too;

You answer was goodbye - there was even postage due.

I fell in love just once, and then it had to be with you,

Everything happens to me.

I've never drawn a sweepstake, or a bank night at a show.

I thought perhaps this time I'd won, but Lady Luck said no.

And though it breaks my heart, I'm not surprised to see you go,

Everything happens to me,

Everything happens to me.

Image Courtesy: Photo at deviantart.com by ~Bandea-Photos

A Red Signal on Road

What follows is a mail that I wrote to an anonymous someone that I came across at an online-forum Chowk,  and with whom I shared nothing but an introduction of her entanglement in doubts: Devouring doubts. Devastating doubts. Demeaning doubts. DOUBTS.

There always are such times when every mark in life is a question mark; when every space is a blank space. In such times, when the space coordinate is of vacuum and the time coordinate of disillusionment, I am so glad to have stumbled across this manuscript while managing my drafts folder.

"

Life is a tough sport, and for some chosen ones it is tougher. The duration of time that we spend breathing, bears different extents of difficulties for each one of us. I understand that what you are going through is heart wrenchingly painful; and I pray to Lord that your endurance be your strength and may you pass this test of fate and time extremely courageously and gracefully.

If you dont mind, may I please suggest that incase you already do not, try rising early in the morning. Like 6ish in the morn. If you can have it, take a stroll at that time even if its ur balcony. Talk to Allah at that time. A candid heart-to-heart talk. Like you would talk to your bestest friend without any slightest trace of fear of being rejected, or any guilt. Talk to Him. In a few days you shall feel that He talks back to you too, for you shall inshaAllah feel the strain of pressure loosening in ur chest. 

Worked wonders for me when I felt like a loner marooned on a forsaken island. Without any comparisons of circumstances of difficulty, I hope it does for you too.

Its not surprising that you think the way you do. Anyone in circumstances tough as yours could hardly do anything else.

I am no angel myself. I have had my doubts, still have at times. But guess what, every thing in the universe cant be captivated by the dictates of our logic, man believes universe just as much as he understands it. As in what you can not see, automatically gets ruled out of existence. Isn't it so? For centuries the earth remained flat cos man thought it to be so. It isn't anymore :)

This means we have to leave a few matters aside from the realm of 'existence is what I believe exists'. There might be actions-reactions and factors triggering these, that absolutely escape our mental mapping. Nonetheless they remain there. 

You have found yourself losing, no wonder you attribute all your losses to Him. Does this imply that you do find Him the authority figure who controls the strings of your life? You do consider Him the responsible one of your life, dont you? :)

When there is a Controller of things, one has to contact Him if the settings need to be changed.

Have you ever ridden a boat? that desi oar-bot? The one that is driven by a mallaah. We do not know the guy, we feel unsettled in the turbulent waters, we freak out when the boat tumbles over the gushing waves, but we do not jump out of the boat. Why? because we know that he is the guy who shall steer us, we are his responsibility. Faith is like a sailing boat. Boats do drown at times and boat do wreck too, but till the journey lasts, till the destination is reached, the seeker needs the boat, to be able to sail through to the other end.

I am not completely aware of your circumstances, so I am afraid of being too ignorant to keep on going further. Also please forgive me if I have said anything that touched you on any raw nerve.

Hey, just curious, do you stop at red signal while on road?

If you do, do tell me why

"

I halt at red signal, and see the time slipping out of my hands, cursing having to stop while an errand waits to be done ..... but knowing all this time that this is the safety plan. Has to be this way.

I am trying to remind myself the same again.

ps: the addressee's identity has been omitted to maintain the privacy of the individual. 

In City of Distances During Times of Disillusionment

Patience serves as a protection against wrongs as clothes do against cold. For if you put on more clothes as the cold increases, it will have no power to hurt you. So in like manner you must grow in patience when you meet with great wrongs, and they will then be powerless to vex your mind.

Leonardo da Vinci

Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish.

John Quincy Adams

For everything there is a season,

And a time for every matter under heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, And a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to seek, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to throw away;

A time to tear, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate,

A time for war, and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

The End of the Affair

And the curtain fell ....




The End.

Like this- Rumi

If one asks to see the face of ecstasy

Just lift your radiant smile to claim;

"Like this"

When they seek grace in the

Universe or the cadence of stars

Scale the façade, climb up

And dance on the rooftop

Proudly boast; "like this"

If they want to know what

The "spirit" is, or how to recognize

The Lords lucidity, lean in, closer

Skin tight, and whisper; "Like this"

When they quote from an arcane verse

To portray the dance; the pale halo

Teasing behind gossamer clouds

Like Salome and the veil, blossom

Soft to unravel your gown

Disrobe with slow a hand

Lace to lace, seam to seam, pose & shine

"Like this"

But if they dare question how Jesus

Raised the dead, never ever articulate

A miracle, just kiss me on the lips;

"Like this, like this"

When he asks what it means to

"Die for love"; just point to me and

Softly smile; Like he

If they ask of my height, pout

Graciously, meticulous to measure with

Your fingers, three folds above where my lips

Always rest on your forehead, and say;

"This tall"

At times the soul departs to leave the flesh

Empty

Only to return more grateful than ever

But if they don't believe this, gracefully step

Back inside my house, and bid all the

Nonbelievers a courteous farewell; "Like this"

When lovers moan, they recite our legacy;

"Like this"

I'm the sky where spirits reside

Stare into the deep blue of my eyes, and

Listen to the breeze whispers my secrets;

"Like this"

When he asks; what's there to do

Light a candle in his hand, and hum in his

Ears; "Burn; like this"

How did Joseph's scent reach
Jacob?

How?

How did Jacob's sight return?

How?

A little wind to cleanse the eyes

"Like this"

When Shams returns from Tabriz

He'll sneak up to the door, peer through

The crack, and patiently wait to surprise

Us like this

Whirling an evening ...

It was like any ordinary evening of later in March in Lahore, just beginning to steam up ..... the breeze of blooming spring laden with promises of fruits ..... the hour of dusk, of meeting of times ..... Up on that vast open terrace the eye caught the glimpse of what sprawled around as an expanse of DHA's phase I ..... the scent of incandescent amidst the lavish drapery of rose petals on the white linen on floor ...... the light of a setting sun in that just post-maghrib hour, tens of candles and a fresh brilliant crescent ...... all endowed the atmosphere like an affectionate lover; and the sound of ney that was generous to ears like a soothsayer's prayer .... 

A sense of profound ease seeped through my pores as I gathered with all others, dressed in white; absolute pure white. It was in regard to the Mevlevi tradition that all of us had gathered to celebrate. It was basically a workshop that was meant to let people ensure that they celebrate the beauty of life by opening themselves up to the divine mysteries of the ages as they turn themselves around - whirling away from the mundane. 

Ayeda proved to be a wonderful teacher who ensured that all those in attendance could benefit from that gathering that was primarily aimed at learning to use the body as a divine instrument. "If everything in the Universe - from the cells to the atoms to the planets - is in a constant state of whirling, why aren't we?" she prompted and insisted, "Learn to see your body as a divine instrument, with your heart at the core of its being. Watch your body become like a moth circling the flame (your heart) and a planet circling the sun (your heart) as the heart circles the Divine", as we gathered to learn the sacred dance of the Mevlevi Sufis of Konya

As soon as enough time had passed and all of us had settled down into the quietness of the moment, Ayeda got her ney out and passing from one to another, let us had the feel of what Rumi thought depicted man so well.

Ney is a flute-like instrument, made out of bamboo reed and hollow from the inside. The instrument is played after months of practice when the breath is finally able to bring music out of it as it is blown thrown. In Sufi tradition, the Ney is the body of man and the breath blown into it is the spirit (breath of God). This refers to the Quranic verse: Behold, thy Lord said to the angels, “I am about to create man, from sounding (dry) clay...” and “when I have fashioned him (man) and breathed into him My spirit fall ye down in obeisance unto him (the Quran, XV/28 and 29); and “for God has poured His love into our hearts by means of the Holy Spirit who is God’s gift to us” (the Bible, Romans 4/5). The first eighteen verses of Rumi's masnevi, which are like an entrance to his great villa where he welcomes his guests and gives them the keys of the rooms without which the guests might get lost and falter in the corridors of his grand villa –the Masnevi; and which undoubtedly form the summary of the six volumes of masnevi, talk of the ney!

Huddling close together in those flickering candle flames we read out the verse line by line from the notes spread in front of each of us.

Listen!

Listen to the ney
Listen to the one who is giving himself up
Listen to the one who has emptied himself
Listen to the one from whom the voice of Allah is heard

Turn, turn around the meaning of the Beloved
Do sema, turn, turn listening to what is being sung
Turn, understanding what is being sung
Turn, turn joining Allah
Who manifests Himself a new every moment

While turning become so pure so beautiful that you
start turning around yourself too

While turning know that the whole universe
even the electrons of an atom
from the tiniest to the greatest of the created turn
only to reveal this meaning

Sema is for the soul that cannot stand still
Do not sit with the idol - geet up at once go furthur
Do not sit lost in your own thoughts
Get up go to where the beloved is

With one foot I am grounded in Sharia
With my other foot I am one with all nations

I am free, free I am free because I am in love with Allah
I am in love with my Creator, Slave to no human, I am the servant of my love Allah
there is nothing to tie me down
I am free, free, free

They figured the value of my head, my robe and my turban
They were not worth more than a cent
Have you heard my name in this world?
I am Nothing, Nothing, Nothing

As long as I live, I am the servant of the Quran
I am the dust under the feet of the Prophet Muhammad
Whoever belongs to God, God belongs to him
Let yourself go, the ney will guide you to your goal

Demonstrate your love with your actions, your morals,
Be aware of the ways of servant people for the sake of Allah
Feel the pleasure of serving without expectations

Look at those with any faith with the eyes of your soul
From them nothing but a cry of Ya Hayy, or Ya Rabb can be heard

Friend I am You and You are me
Don't lose yourself
Don't forget who you are
The one following you like a shadow is me
My friend don't pierce your soul with your own dagger

Since you miss the sea let go of being a drop
Since you are me and I am you
what is this talk of me and you?

After death comes don't look in the ground for our grave
Our grave is in the heart of the believers

The schedule was divided into a couple of slots and after the verses, breathing practice was the first; a focused, coherent, conscious breath that channeled the flow of thought. One way for each of the four elements of nature: Earth, Air, Water, Fire, characterized by inhalation and exhalation taking place through nose and mouth in different permutations. While the inward breath was to be accompanied by the realization of richness of Divine bounties and gratitude, the outward breath was to take along with all that contaminated within.

At the onset it was more like a ritual to me, but when it set off, I experienced what could be related, albeit even remotely, to what can be termed as cleansing of the soul. It is an undeniable fact, that proper, focused breathing puts our organism in harmony with its own self, and thence the Self.

The evening was not about religion as much as was about catching up with the soul and with being in harmony with self. But those who interpret spirit and soul in light of religion ended up benefiting more, as per my understanding. 

The meditation followed the conscious breathing, and it was here that the evening began to blossom into a mood of its own. 

With eyes closed, breathing consciously, trying to let myself loose from every shred of thought that clung to my mind, I discovered a strangely strong sensation of heightened awareness of my surroundings ....... of sound of water dripping from someone's lawn hose close by and impact of its wetness, of wafts of incandescent through air currents, of that slight stir of movement by someone here or there, of the sound of my own heart beating in my chest, of the passage of breath through my lungs, of the way my fingers were curled with my hands resting on my knees ...... it was strange, and in a quite inexplicable way, quite liberating. Imagine a bolt of sensations hitting you like an avalanche, when all you have to do is to just lean back and cherish it. No fighting, no figuring the reasons, no calculations, no reactions, just plain simple contemplation ... an indiscriminate allowance for everything to sink down into your pit less being! Do you see the freedom it brought? 

We raised our hands in a joint prayer heavenwards and the amen concluded with hands gathering and bringing down blessings from the heavens. Calmness being induced step by step, we reached the milestone of sitting sema: inner calm paving way for the expression of ecstasy. The sitting Sema had to follow the clockwise rotational movement, to keep the body in harmony and maintain the balance with the anticlockwise rotation of the standing sema (whirling) later. Following the pattern of LA ILLA HA ILLALLALLAH, that captured the essence of driving all the 'ILLALLALLAH' out of the heart, with eyes closed it was our heads that took the lead in breaking away from the movements of the norm. A few moments later, a slow, deliberate beat of arabic daff began to accompany that congregational rise and fall of our harp: LA ILLA HA ILLALLALLAH.

The sitting sema culminated in standing sema, which was indeed the highlight of the day. 

Surrendering one's self in pure ecstatic joy of love of the One by forming a physical 'alif' and then proceeding on to creating a symphony of physical and spiritual harmony, with one foot planted on earth providing an axis into reality and with other whirling like a moth around The Real, was such a surreal experience that it later made me wonder if it was actually real!

We were quite a few in numbers, of both genders, and yet while whirling onto our same Real axes with eyes closed each one of us had a different reality. A few cried out of joy, and I felt an overpowering sense of elation, of liberty. A sweeping sense of profound peace, of gentle adoration for life as it is, of gratitude for being alive and free, free to love my Love, is what I had with me when I picked up my bag and made way to stairs leading down. 

Whirling that evening on Saba's terrace was falling in love with life and Lord, and nothing in life can be comparable to the joy of returning to your first Love!