Salaam,
I realize that our topic has been in the water for sometime now, so allow me, despite persistent controversies in the large-scale Muslim world, to relate a short reflection (or simply an "idle" musing) on a great Muslim whom you may have often heard and who still lives in the hearts of many for his sweat, tears and light.
When al-Imaam Sayyid Ayatullaah Ruhullaah Mustafavi Khomeini (may Allaahu sancify his soul) died in 1989, I was but a toddler. Years later, I saw a video of the staggering Islamic revolution that took place in 1979 in Tehran, Iran. The first to capture my attention was the presence of the great Imaam, whose silent being bespoke a somewhat immense light of love, awareness and integrity, amidst the grand echo "Khomeini, O Imaam!" by the crowd.
Imaam Khomeini was not just a cleric of the highest possible rank (in his own system), a prime example for Shi'a Muslims. It simply appears to me that Iran required his presence when she needed to lift herself back to a higher level. He was more than a hugely iconic Reviver (Mujadid) from the Ahl al-Bayt, the Family of the Holy Prophet (SAW), he was a living example of a virtuoso who could never leave us only to be replaced by his successors.
Forget about the Sunni-Shi'a divide for a while. Let us not create more rigid formations. We have done this for over a dozen centuries now. Let us solely concentrate on that which unites us, Muslims, under the banner of the Qur'an and the Sunnah (Prophetic Traditions). The idea of the Unity of Muslims is not yet deceased. On the local scale, for many, what Imaam Khomeini did was restore the Prophetic Passion to an essentially Islamic country whose soul was still smarting from the overly materialistic Pahlavi era. On the global scale, he showed the Muslim world what it was to live the saying "don't just blame the darkness, but light it up."
In my early teens, I came across Imaam Khomeini's work on Tazkiyya e Nafs (Purification of the Self). I read it with great passion. He would drift in and out of Fiqh (Jurisprudence), Mantiq (Logic), Tasawwuf (Sufism), Nahwu (Language), Tafsir (Qur'anic Exegesis), Ahadith (Sayings of the Holy Prophet SAW) and 'Irfan (Gnosis) seemingly at his own "whim", displaying the way of the self towards attaining al-Haqiqa al-Muhammadiyya (the Reality of the Prophet Muhammad SAW) as if he was painting an invisible picture and playing a hidden song at each of the station of the Salik (Seeker or Spiritual Wayfarer). I have no doubt that Imaam Khomeini was a Mystic of an exalted rank. His true station (maqam), however, in the fold of Genuine Tasawwuf and detailed Islamic Aqidah, is known only to Allaahu SWT.
His being might seem mysterious and untouchable to many. In reality, he was somewhat shy and reserved, which is but a typical character of the Prophet's prominent descendants. He had always chosen to dwell in silence rather than in the glow. Following the stream of Longing and climbing the thorny rocks of Love, he had reached a mystic state where he became a reflection of the shadow of the great Imaams and Spiritual Wayfarers before him. It is hard for any sincere Muslim to speak of the beloved man without trying to "immortalize" him in a sense. The laments of the blue silhouette of the Muslim world over his disappearance will linger beyond the decline of this worldly existence.
Here are a few poems by Imaam Khomeini that display his spiritual rank and the liquid state of his heart before his Beloved:
MASS OF THE DRUNK
In circles mystic I found not
The pleasantness I sought
In monastery was not audible
The music which love wrought
In school I did not find to read
Any book to be from the friend
In minaret it was hard to find
The voice to be of him to tend
In love of books I could not see
That veiled beauty's face
In sacred writs I could not get
The destination's trace
In idol-house my life's span
Was wholly spent in vain
In rivals' gathering I saw
Neither remedy nor pain
The lover's ring now must I join
Haply to find for solace
From the rose- garden of the beloved
A pleasing breeze or a trace
"We" and "I" are both from reason
That are used as ropes to bind
In mass of those who are drunk
Neither "I" is nor "We" to find
LOVER'S RAPTURE
Oh that heart is no heart at all
Which loves thy fair face not
Oh that wise is no wise at all
Who craves not thy beauty spot
Oh for the heart - raptured lover
Rapture's all that's in thy wine
For me save this rapture alone
What else has this life's confine
Who hath thrown me in this desert
It was love of thine, o my friend
What act now can rescue me
Nowhere seen is the desert's end
If thou art a heart - raptured lover
Put soon then thyself aside
'Twixt you and him there's none
But wall of your self- pride
If you are an traveller of lover's path
Shun prayer- carpet, cloak then
No guide's there but love alone
In love thyself soak then
If thou art real lover then
Be not mystic - pious prone
As none can enter lovers' ring
But the lovers' group alone
I wish to play with his ringleted hair
What's bad in that what's vile
One mad touch and one wild stroke
What else can give love imbecile
Get hold of my arm and set free
My soul from this robe cant
As this robe is nothing else
But the refuge of ignorant
Knowledge, mysticism leave them aside
They lead not to the wine - house
As in the place where lovers reside
Falsehood cannot find spouse
DRUNKARDS' FOLD
O for the day
That I be the dust of his way
That I give up life for him
That his true lover I stay
O for the day
That a cup soul- stirring
I get from his kind hand
And, forgetting both worlds
Be chained to his hair's strand
O for the day
That my head be at his feet
Kissing till life's time is up
And I be, till doomsday
Drunken from his cup
O for the day
That I burn like a lover
Always for him and gaze
At his sweet face
In drunkard's daze
O for the day
That I be fully drunk
In drunkard's fold
And come to know all
Its secrets untold
O for the day
That I have at bed's end
My Joseph's merriment
And if not, like Jacob
Be enamoured of his scent
LOVE'S GLANCE
O my love, my world begins
And ends at your door
If my life be spent here
I need nothing more
In tavern, mosque, monastery
And idol- temple floor
I bow down in the hope that
You would bless me and adore
Not a cure could find seminary
For my troubles nor the saint
O get me out of mess
With your glance ere I faint
O full of ego was the mystic
As far as I could glean
O let me have your vision
So my heart remains clean
I have shunned myself's love
So do I now exist
O have your gracious look at me
This insignificat gist
They call me man of pleasure
And they name me just a lover
O my joy- shorn heart be sure
Has never worn this cover
Life of hermit have I chosen
For that veiled darling
So that with his amorous glance
This drop be sea snarling
SICKLY EYES
What charming mole thy lips have
Behold! that I am caught
Pray, what thy sickly eyes have
That sickened is my heart
I have shunn'd my self's love
Now truth is none but me
I will see the gallows also
As did Mansur see
O darling, it's thy thought's flame
That sets my heart afire
If I am now the talk of town
My name thou didst inspire
Keep the door of tavern open
For me night and day
Farewell seminary, farewell mosque
Let me go my way
It was quite ere long you know
That pietistic garment I tore
The tavern- keeper's patched dress
To find the way I wore
Lo! city's priest tortures me
With sermons vile and rot
Where art thou! do rescue me
Hearken, the spirit of sot
O what a place is idol-house
Good memories let me cherish
The tavern- keeper's magic touch
Hast made my sleep perish
SEA OF ANNIHILATION
How I long for the day
That thy lane be my home
For this joy, for this sorrow
My heart's desires roam
I wish I had in my hand
From thy locks just a knot
That would serve as a key
To my evey troubled spot
Last night without you
Was obscure heart of mine
In that house thy thought
Was the only piercing shine
All the friends in that gathering
Were drunk, senseless
And the wise like me
Was ill- fated in the mess
He who broke open prisons
Was oppressor, illiterate
About the self, universe
All clean was his slate
For the lovers all knowledge
Is nothing but a veil
He who went beyond the veil
Upon the truth could prevail
Lo the lovers out of love
In the sea of annihilation swam
And those on the shores dark
Looked ignorant and sham
I did find the spiritual world
As I fell in love with the sweet
All I read and heard before
Was false, counterfeit
GARMENT TEARING
How crave I from my love's hand
To drink a cup of wine
O with whom to share this secret
Where to take this grief of mine
I gave away my life in hope
That I could see the friend's face
'Am butterfly making rounds of lamp
'Am seed burning in fireplace
This robe dseceptive and so cant
This prayer- mat with false state
Would that I could tear them off
Right in front of tavern's gate
If friend out of love's cup
Be willing to give a small sip
This soul in my life's cloak
So happily would I give in tip
'Am old though yet can be young
Do favour with thy sweet glance
So that from this small house
Of universe I make advance
SWEET END
With wine o my love
Fill up this cup of mine
Let not my honour grow
Let not my name shine
That kind pour in cup
Which overpowers me
Which purifies the soul
Of artifice to tee
That fine blissful wine
Which sets the soul free
Which makes splendour run
Which makes glory flee
That unrespected wine
Which all the graceless drink
In which submissions drown
In which humilities sink
In rose - cheeks' sacred sanctury
In tavern come and see
From every slit I enter
The fairies welcome me
Now haply should I go
To the ring of drunken peers
With wine cleanse who minds
Of thoughts in low gears
O thou rarified air
Give mine wish and greeting
When passing other world's river
To that valley's sweeting
In goblet one I crossed
This life's road bend
Let know the monastery head
How sweet was my end
Ishq,
{Dani}
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