The Melody of Love

نغمۂ محبّت

What is happening? Some wandering is going on. Alas! Alas! A cry is rising in the heart. Ah! Ah! An alien longing is arising in the breast. A fire is kindling in the body. Toes to head, something is burning. O Allah! Eyes behold it without seeing; ears hear it without ears. O Allah! What is this uproar? Who is forcing me? Where am I going? I am the enemy of self-indulgence; I have abandoned pleasure; I have left reason behind; I am far from the world; the whole of my life is sinking in distress; my beloved's grief is upon my lips; fitna (civil strife) is upon my signs; and the sword of my speech is sheathed.

My kingdom's throne is my mind; my government's capital is my mind; my ministers are my imaginations; chosen officers are my mental faculties; my army is my nerves; my intelligence is my minister of finance; my minister of politics is my tongue; my minister of knowledge and accomplishment is the light of my soul and mind. My crown is my faith; my castle is my wisdom; my sword of truthfulness is my sīr (secret); my mount is my love — it plunges me into trouble. My heart's equilibrium is my contentment; my treasury is my patience; and my calmness is the true kingdom I seek. In the realm of contemplation, I am the sovereign of myself — and what a sultan that is. In murāqabah (contemplative meditation) I am the image of the Rahmān (the All-Merciful); my heart is the throne of the Exalted; my mind is my firmament; and my imagination and my senses are my subjects. My life depends on knowledge; my hearing, sight, speech, and will are commanded by me.

By Allah! Who am I really? Let me examine: am I Muhammad Abdul Qadir? No — who says so? The comparison of one letter 'I' ('میں') is with no one. Mawlawi Muhammad Ilyas Barnabi Sahib compared me to Muhammad Abdul Qadir. He is Ilyas, I am Hasrat. He is of the Farooqi line, I am Siddiqui. He is of celebrated fame; I am of Hyderabad. He is still young; I am already aged. He is the Nazim and Nāẓim-e-Dār-ul-Tarjuma (Editor of the Translation Bureau). As for me — I have a function in attaining saintly stations. We are both friends; we both belong to Jami'a Uthmānia. We are both of the same school; we have the same disposition. We are both of the same cast of mind. Yet sometimes a matter comes up that we debate — but the answers stop short.

Let me compare myself with something. Compare me to an animal. Compare me to a tree. Compare me to an inanimate stone. Compare me to a sensory being. Compare me to angels. Compare me to whatever has colour, smell, and taste. Compare me to anything — every direction points to my Lord. Worship Him; I am the sultan of the body; my heart is the seat of the 'Arsh (Throne); my mind is my library; my imagination is my image gallery; my nerves are my subjects — all are my servants. I am in need of knowledge from a higher source; hearing, sight, taste, smell, and will — all are mine. My actions, and I, are in my control — my speech is my command.

[Verse:] "O my Lord — I seek pleasures of my own kind. / The bliss of solitude, free from all longing — / that I may find what I myself have sought. / That the music of the world should not reach me." (Nezami Ganjavi)

[Verse:] "They sang my praises in temples / hearts spoke praises of me in the inner chambers." (Hasrat)

In one of these moments — I do not know whether it was day or night — I was lying on my bed. It seemed as if something was preventing me from sleeping. Yet despite every effort, nothing was stopping it. The world of imagination opened before me. I was swept away in it — no, rather I was myself there. One thing was before me: a terrifying scene. A great Greek ship was sailing; it came to shore; and the shore was filling with armies of soldiers. There was no woman, no child, no officer to be seen. All were calling to the one seeking salvation, beckoning, yet not one of them heeded. The soldiers were hard-hearted. They showed no mercy. No man was looking at another. The poor and the strangers kept crying out. The dignity of leadership was falling. Some mosques were full of people; and many mosques were locked up. Two or three large mosques were being captured by the government. The followers of the religion of Allah and His Messenger, given the two swords — they were being struck down. What shame it was; what loss. Some were prostrating in worship, calling Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.

In this frenzy of imagination — repeatedly with this same thought, is my heart at peace or not? It is necessary to remain occupied with pure thoughts. This same thought kept coming back. To repeat it is of no use; it is a futile occupation of time. To achieve something from it, or for Allah's remembrance to pass through it — that is not possible without finding some light in this imagination. Come, let us think it through: is it possible for my confused thoughts to become settled? Not entirely. Every moment demands my attention to them. In the same way all the world needs the tawḥīd (Oneness) and attention of Allah Almighty at every moment. The need of everything is the need of the Supreme Being. This need is not a thing of my personal will. The will belongs to the Supreme Being (Bāl-Dhāt). It is my will in so far as the will of the Supreme Being makes it apparent through me, according to a need. These needs are also necessary — necessary from the perspective of the Divine Being itself.

وَتِلْكَ الْأَيَّامُ نُدَاوِلُهَا بَيْنَ النَّاسِ

"And these days — We alternate them among the people." (Qur'an 3:140)

All these scenes were passing before me — in the world where the Greek soldiers were pressing forward, the government crumbling, cities falling in shame, and the poor being oppressed. People were crying out with the hope of Hazrat Jibrāʾīl's (Gabriel's) voice coming in aid. All were seeking help but no soldier would look up. The strangers — the poor foreigners — kept crying out to Hazrat Uzair's voice (peace be upon him): "Come to our aid." But no one was coming. Everywhere, shame and humiliation — as if all dignity had vanished.

This agitation has now grown greater. The Greek nation — much afflicted — is calling to every European power for aid: come, and help us keep our land. The Turks have pressed in from every direction. Big and powerful cannons have come and the shores are being swept away. The sea of troubles began to boil. Waves of nations were moving against them — calling forth, beckoning, helping the enslaved. The sound of their war drums reached everywhere. Countless powers drew toward them. The great European commander in the meeting was consulting about what the future battles would bring.

In that assembly — one Turkish soldier came to the meeting — and spoke thus: that the Muslim soldier in the assembly is there so that when no one takes responsibility for stopping the Greek aggression, and for the sake of peace and security, they may use the saying 'Lā ḥawla walā quwwata illā billāh' — they could say this, but I was too occupied recording it. It remained in my ear. This thought — is it useful to repeat it for its own sake? What does repeating it achieve — and who knows the benefit? It is a futile occupation of long life and age. If it brings no result — then none. If one should think of an imaginary scenario, one must also recognize it. The state of confusion is not to be cured by imagination alone. Come, let this thought alone be — abandon it.

[Hasrat's verse:] "I am 'I' — for the sake of Allah, I am in Allah. / Whatever does not exist — all of this is for my sake." (Hasrat)

[Verse of wonder:] "In what charm shall I remain captivated? / What this king of scholars does not comprehend, how can I understand? / O, you great teacher — you are present / yet no teacher truly teaches its meaning — none fully brings it. / Those who know the path of angels' step — / they advance step upon the dust at the feet of those men. / These are some of the signs of this path; some traces are before the eye: only 'I' am — and here the mirror of knowledge came and stood before me."