Archive for the ‘Islam’ Category

Delirium

May 5th, 2013, posted in BoYs, POEtRY.., Sufism
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Delirium,ecstasy

The mystics invited me to their gathering
On the way, a strange man met me on the road
He stood before me, eclipsing the sun in his black robes
He said, “Come to the carnival instead”

I followed him like a ghost crossing into another world
Where everything is spoken through symbols and metaphor
I watched as we passed through the crowded fair
Of old and young lost in the recreation of ancient folklore

Wizards with their tarot cards, magicians in medieval costumes
Mimes trapped in their imaginary prisons
Fire breathers lighting up the sky in wonder
Appearing like dragons in the imagination of children

A sun-colored butterfly fluttered amidst the strange
I followed its flight to a stone-faced audience
Watching the puppet show of Crusaders and Saracens
Hypnotized by the centuries of cruelty and violence

My eyes sank in sorrow
Not realizing that the man I came with
Vanished into the unknown
Leaving only a compass around my neck

It pointed to a tall, thin man watching me with his gothic eyes
A crystal ball levitating in the palm of his hand
I looked inside and saw myself soaring through clouded skies
He veiled the image and invited me into the large tent behind him

“Come, step inside,” he said

Walking through, I listened to the magical bells
Echoing in peaceful jubilee
As a garden bloomed on the concert stage
With rose petals raining like dream-like fantasy

A young girl dressed as a princess
Whirling beneath the falling tulips
With a halo hovering over her head
And a precious smile painted on her lips

She reminds me of the ocean’s dance
When I was another child
Dreaming about portals in the sea
And escaping far, far away into self-exile

For a moment, it was all happiness and bliss
Like living in a floating sphere vibrant with color
Like beautiful words blown into the wind
Touching skin and heart softly like an Angel’s kiss

But how transitory that was
When the wild lights began to spiral
And I heard those crazy circus clowns
Laughing wickedly on their unicycles

Their laughter reminds me of hellfire
Roaring through those endless fields of mine
Burning every flower, slaughtering every dream
Leaving nothing left to grow, nothing left to find

They juggled their sharp and deadly blades
Grinning at the audience like cardboard cartoons
Each dagger spinning and slicing through the air
I can only hear violence and murder in their tune

As if they were putting on a sadistic show
Where I was the dummy flown to the highest cloud
Only to have my strings cut and fall below
Deep into the heart of the darkest abyss

I left the tent, not wanting to stay any longer
Yet it were gypsy strings that called me to another street
Beyond the ferris wheel where families gathered
Beyond the swan boats where Lovers drifted upon the lake

I saw the fiddle player sitting upon a stage
Next to a luminous unicorn glowing like a star in Heaven
A magician bowed her head as the marveled audience clapped
Her eyes searched through the sea of faces and met mine in unison

She smiled and said, “I need a volunteer”

As if it was instinct and meant to be
I rose my hand and made my way through the masses
She opened her hand, waiting for me
Like a savior offering eternal refuge and escape

Our fingers touched, our hands merged
I felt my heart tremble as a current rippled inside
She drew me silently up the steps
Like I was the seeker and she the guide

“This Way,” she whispered
While walking me to a double-sided door
Nothing behind it, nothing within
Just a frame of wood, nothing more

She wrapped a blindfold around my eyes
Mystified and blinded in darkness
She told me I could remove it soon
After I opened the door and walked inside

I took my careful steps, hoping for answers
And closed the door behind me
I finally removed the blindfold
Only to find myself in a hall of spiraling mirrors

I turned around and reached for the knob
But watched it unscrew and fall to the crimson floor
Pounding at the door, I heard nothing from the other side
The past sealed shut – no other way but forward

I walked to the center of the room
Watching infinite reflections follow myself
Gazing deep into my own eyes, I saw a storm gather
The joys, the pain, the misery, the light, the gloom

I became lost in my own self
Not wanting the heart’s agony anymore
A desire to flee from this shell swept over me
A desire I never recognized before

I thought to myself and longed for escape:

I’d rather be a statue in the water fountain
Engraved with a smile on my face
Handing out roses to the lonely souls
Who just want to live in a beautiful place

I’d rather be a voice in your mind
Telling you that it’s going to be ok
As you drive home alone late at night
Dwelling on your sorrows and contemplating suicide

I’d rather be the ever-present spirit of Love
Holding you in arms, whispering comfort in your ears
As you weep over your broken heart
And wallow in unwanted fear

I’d rather be a guardian Angel
For an innocent prisoner sitting on death row
Adoring her paintings and releasing her from the shackles
Carrying her beautiful soul into the next life

I’d rather be a drop of rain
Kissing your cheek for comfort
Or a ray of light from the sun
Reminding your heart that it will shine again

I’d rather be the gentle breeze blowing through your hair
Accompanied by the magical tune of the santour
A sheet of wind wrapping around you
Carrying your imagination to a distant seashore

I’d rather be a vision of a better world
Rushing into the arms of artists and activists
Celebrating in tears of joy as each and every dream
Is made real and manifest

I’d rather feel nothing
No anger, no hate, no pain
No one to hurt, no one to blame
Nothing to take, nothing to gain

“I” would rather not exist

And suddenly, the hallway erupted in laughter
My eyes darted down both ends of the room
Before realizing it came from my reflection in the mirror
“Why do you laugh?” I ask

“Because you are the real lunatic,” he answered
Mysteriously, he stepped out of the reflection
Standing in front of me, he said: “Yet you remain a coward”
“For all you know how to do is merely speak of non-existence”

Without warning, like a being possessed
I broke the mirror with my fist
And with one swift motion
I slit my clone’s throat with a blade of glass

The blood splashed on the mirrors
The entire glass hallway shattered – Kshhh!!
The pieces flew into my skin
As the ground beneath me shook like an earthquake

I fell through the floor
And found myself tumbling through outer space
Debris floating around me as I plunged deeper
I became surrounded by stars, distant planets and nebulae

Comets, meteors, galaxies whirling in darkness
I spun like a pinwheel, spiraling in every direction
My arms extending, my fingers reaching
Reaching for something in desperation

Reaching for Love, hope, beauty
For happiness, joy, euphoria
For peace, balance, tranquility
For life, home – something, anything!

My skin turning pale
My body surrendering
My blood freezing to ice
My heart beginning to fail

A voice enters my mind – Look, over here!
I turn and see Simurgh – my old Friend
Soaring through the heavens like a shooting star
Oh, Simurgh, I thought you were dead

Carried by the solar winds
She swoops above me – bloodied from our past
Before I could smile, her talons dig into my chest
And violently tears me open

My screams suffocated by the cosmic void
Only tears and blood can trickle from my eyes
When murdered by the Friend of Love
Only the soul can fill the universe with my endless cries

Amidst the pain, I heard sound emerge in space
I saw Simurgh pulling stars with her flapping wings
Energy and light – They raced in my direction!
I heard music! – Like a symphony of strings!

Luminous orbs of plasma gathering like an ocean
And swirling like a solar typhoon
I heard them whistling through the dark
As they charged towards my open wound

I heard the orchestra’s crescendo
The chant of mystics resounding
The passion drums pounding
Duum! Duum! Duum!

I understood now
As the realization came to me
“Death before death”
The Way to eternity

O Giver of Love and Mercy!
You have cut me open
Pull Your storm
Into me

Flames shooting out of my eyes
And infinite rays of light beaming in every direction
As my heart swallowed Heaven’s fire
Every star filling me with divine resurrection

I have exploded into infinity
Sailing to that Love I cannot name
Expanding forever with the universe
Bidding farewell to yesterday’s “me”

And upon those memories of sorrow, I smile at you

I am Supernova
And you are Stargazer
Watch the multi-colored flame
Of my Being shine anew

Note : I found this online

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Good Manners Melt A Hard Heart

May 3rd, 2013, posted in Islam, Islamic Teachings, MESSAGEs, Saying Of Hazrat Ali ( A.S ), Saying Of Holy Prophet ( P.B.U.H), Sufism
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Its My Nature

May 2nd, 2013, posted in Rumi, STORiES, Sufism
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A scorpion had to go to the the other side of a pond and noticed a Turtle, swiming merrily in the water. The scorpion said to the frog, “Please carry me across the pond.”

The Turtle, said, “You crazy? What’s to stop you from stinging me when we’re in the middle of the pond? I would drown and die.”

The scorpion replied, “That’s the whole point. I’d be crazy if I sting you in the middle of the pond. True, you are right in saying ‘You would drown,’ but then I can’t swirm and I would drown too.”turtle and_Scorpion

The Turtle, listened and as this made perfect sense said, “Jump on my back I’ll carry you across the pond .”

So the scorpion walked onto the Turtle,’s back and the frog started swimming across the pond. The the scorpion was sitting on top and enjoyed the sunshine. But when they got to the middle of the pond, the scorpion suddenly stung the Turtle.

As the dieing frog was sinking, he said with his last breath, “You have doomed both os us. I’m dying but you’ll join me soon. You’re drowning. Why did you do that?”

The scorpion replied nonchalantly, “I’m a scorpion. It’s my essence to sting. I cannot help myself.”

The above story comes from the great Iranian mystic and poet, Mullana Jallal-E-Din Balkhi known as Rumi.

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So Persevere, Sunshine. Have Hope Always

April 29th, 2013, posted in MESSAGEs, Sufism
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There are many things we cry over, and there are many things that sends a chill into our heart. Death and illnesses, poverty and bankruptcies – these are the stuffs that will turn our day grey, as we sigh “Oh dear me…”

In our conversation last night, Heche said that “Well, you gotta learn how to swing the bat every time God throws you a curve ball.”

“Well, I don’t want to play baseball with God. He plays mean!” I protested.

But of course, we have no choice in the matter. We have all the choices in the world, but not this one. And of course, God doesn’t play mean. He lets me off so many times that I cannot even count.

In fact God has rigged the game for us to win. But to win, we must win over something – Which is to conquer our tears and our fears, and be that person God knows we can be, if only we would persevere.

So persevere, sunshine.
Have hope always.

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Mullah Nasrudin And His Lost Key

April 27th, 2013, posted in MESSAGEs, STORiES, Sufism
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Mullah Nasrudin (also spelt Nasr ud din, Nasreddin, Nasrudin, Nazrudin, and Nazrudeen) needs no introduction to those who already knows this wise fool, for those hearing about him for the first time here is a short introduction.
Nazrudin was a Muslim cleric; he lived over 600 years ago, he was considered a philosopher, wise man, a teacher and an utter fool at times.

Nasrudin stories appear all over the Middle East and central Asia especially in Persian, Arab, Azeri, Pashto, Urdu, Hindi, Bosnian and Turkish folk stories. Nasrudin was supposed to have dies in Turkey (There is a Nazrudin grave in Turkey among other places).

Wisdom (sometimes foolishness) of Nasrudin is enjoyed today as a story, jokes and Anecdotes and in therapy.

To give the newcomers to Nazrudin a taste of some of the Mullah’s antics consider the story below:

The Lost KeyOne night, Nazrudin was on his hands and knees searching for his key in a well light area. Some of his neighbors came to see why Nazrudin was on his hands and knees.

“What are you looking for, Nazrudin?” enquired one of the neighbors. “My door key.” Came the reply.
The helpful neighbors drop to their hands and knees and joined Nasrudin in his search for the lost key.
After a long unsuccessful search, one of the neighbors asks: “We’ve looked everywhere. Are you sure you dropped it here?”
Nazrudin answers: “Of course I didn’t drop it here, I dropped it outside my door.”
“Then, why are you looking for it here!”
“Because there’s more light here,” responded Nazrudin.


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I use the above story in my references to suggest that often we search outside ourselves when the key to solving all our psychological challenges are inside ourselves.

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A good teaching story must be multilayered, and multifaceted.

Thus another meaning of the key is that we use whatever tools available to us. As a Chinese saying says,

“If you only have a hammer, everything looks like a nail to you.”

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