The Book of Rumi, page 13
The sama started with the familiar sound of the reed, and before long Bayazid went into his trance as he whirled. “I am God!” he began to shout. “And there's no other God but me!”
His devotees were flabbergasted, not knowing what to make of their master; for this was the first time they'd heard him uttering such unmistakably blasphemous words. However, already accustomed to his frequently unusual behavior, they didn't think too much of it. The next morning, though, they told Bayazid what he'd said the previous evening.
“If I ever utter those words again, you have my permission to stab me repeatedly,” he ordered. “In fact, kill me on the spot!”
The murids took Bayazid's words literally, and each decided to carry a knife in his belt at all times, just in case. The following week, they all gathered for yet another session of sama. Bayazid, as usual, became entirely overcome with excitement and began to whirl speedily, forgetting his instructions to his devotees of the week before. Soon he was in an exceptional trance and began to repeat: “I am God, I am God.”
This time, his enthusiasm had no limits; the broad implications of his words rose to another level. Round and round he whirled, loudly praying all the while. “Under my shirt, lives God!” Bayazid shouted. “Why do you search for him on the earth or even in the sky?”
The devotees found themselves at an impasse; they didn't want to stab their shaykh, yet they didn't want to disobey him either. Eventually, one by one, they pounced on Bayazid and began to thrust their daggers toward his body. One murid aimed for his throat to shut him up, while another went for his heart, and yet another plunged his dagger toward Bayazid's side, trying to make sure that the man was as good as dead.
However, an odd sort of miracle occurred. With each forward thrust, the knife inexplicably spun around and stabbed the devotee instead of Bayazid. Each attempted blow at the master became an even more severe wound suffered by the murid wielding the knife, and in a few short minutes corpses piled around the room. There were a few men present who, despite their master's earlier order, had not had the heart to stab him. They stood by in a state of utter bewilderment, their tongues tied, watching the massacre! Their faith and trust in their shaykh, and perhaps the softness of their hearts, were what saved them.
From that day on, people from faraway lands would come to sit at the foot of Bayazid, to be in the presence of God.
The Bird's Advice
A beautiful bird was chirping happily on a branch when, all of a sudden, she felt a heavy cloud pressing her down to the ground. A cunning huntsman had managed to trap the stunning little bird in a net. Flapping around, she was unable to free herself from the man's snare. Quickly she assessed her dire situation and came up with a clever solution. She pleaded with her captor:
“O great hunter, you must have captured many impressive beasts in your time and feasted on innumerable cows, sheep, and other delicious animals. Yet none of them seem to have appeased your hunger. Let me assure you that neither will my tiny body with its minuscule amount of flesh. Allow me to offer you three pieces of advice that are far more valuable than my worth as simple prey.”
The hunter was unsure of the bird's intention and whether he could trust her. The little bird felt his uncertainty and was quick to add:
“I assure you that you will reap infinite riches using these three precious bits of advice. I will give you the first counsel while still in your grip, and if you like it, then I will tell you the second one from the roof of your hut. The third and most important one I will impart to you from that tree,” she said as she pointed with her beak toward a nearby poplar.
The hunter was still not convinced but reluctantly agreed as he saw that, truly, the little bird was not enough to feed even one member of his large family. The bird, still in the man's grip, offered her first suggestion:
“My first advice to you, my good sir, is to never believe the impossible from anyone.”
The hunter kept his word and released the little bird, who flew to the rooftop.
“The second advice is to never regret the past. When something is in the past, it's never coming back.”
The man, waiting to hear the third piece of advice, watched the bird as she flew to the top of the tree.
“Inside my stomach, there's a rare pearl that weighs a hundred grams!” she said nonchalantly. “You've lost your only chance of ever owning it! Obviously, it wasn't meant for you; otherwise, you could have fed your entire family for the rest of their days.”
As the hunter heard these words, he began to wail and sob like a woman in labor.
“Didn't I tell you to never regret the past?” the bird rebuked him. “Are you deaf, or did you simply not hear me? My other advice was to never believe the impossible. How could a pearl weighing a hundred grams be in my tiny body when I don't even weigh ten grams myself?”
The man pulled himself together and wiped the tears in his eyes, and sheepishly asked the bird for her third piece of advice.
“You've got to be mad to ask me for more!” exclaimed the bird. “Why would I impart a third secret when I've seen how poorly you've put the other two to use?”
She prepared to fly away, but before she did she called back to her captor:
“To impart advice to the foolish is like trying to grow crops in a salt field!”
Child on the Roof
A woman, beside herself with emotion, rushed into Imam Ali's modest home. Hardly able to breathe, she fell to her knees.
“O savior, I beg of you to help me!” she pleaded. “My one and only child has climbed onto the roof and gotten stuck in the gutter and will not come down, no matter how much I beg him. I'm frightened that he may fall, and I'll lose him forever. He's the light of my eyes, but he's too young to understand reason. I even pointed to my breasts so that maybe he'll climb down for milk, but he turned his face away.”
Her tears prevented her from continuing as she choked on her words. Ali let her sob freely, conscious that her hysterical condition was not going to be helpful to her son. After a few long minutes, the woman calmed down. She looked up at Ali's kind face; he was watching her intently, his eyes filled with compassion.
“I'm at my wit's end, my lord,” the woman whined. “Tell me what to do.”
“Now that you've calmed down, my good woman, listen carefully,” Ali began softly. “Go and find another child nearly the same age as your son and send him up to the roof. When your son sees the other boy, in whom he will see a resemblance to himself, he will walk over to him. I promise you, like prefers like. We're always attracted to those who are similar to us. Your boy will soon be safe.”
The woman did not lose a beat and ran out the door in search of such a boy. In no time, her son was saved, voluntarily walking over to his new friend and climbing down the stairs together to safety.
The King and the Servant
The king was gripped with wrath at one of his servants who had committed an unforgivable mistake. He instinctively drew his sword to behead the poor man. No one in the court stepped forward to intermediate, as they all believed that the man's fate was now sealed. No one dared ask the king to forgive the young man, except Emadal-Molk.
When Emad, one of the king's most trusted and respected ministers, knelt before the ruler and asked for leniency for the servant, the king immediately withdrew his outthrust sword. He ordered the servant to retreat to his quarters and not to appear before him until his anger had subsided.
The servant, however, instead of thanking Emad for saving his life, began to act strangely after the incident. Like most others in the court, he had always adored Emad, but after the incident, he avoided the kind man. Soon, he even stopped greeting Emad when they crossed paths at court.
One day, a courtier asked the servant out of curiosity the reason for his odd behavior: “Why do you act so ungraciously toward someone who has literally saved your neck?”
“I didn't ask Emad to save my life!” retorted the servant. “My life doesn't belong to him to save! It belongs to the king, and he can take it or give it back when he chooses. In that instant when the king wanted to slash my throat, I was willing to give up my life. I wanted to become nothing before him. Ah,” he sighed, “to have simply been nothing before that king of kings! But Emad took that chance away from me, and I shall never be able to regain that glory!”
Ants and Calligraphy
The ants left their colony late one morning and, uncharacteristically, took a left turn instead of continuing along their usual route straight ahead. Soon they found themselves walking on a white sheet of paper that someone was writing on. Astonished by the beauty of the script, a young ant, who could not see the fingers holding the pen, turned to the older ones and exclaimed: “Look at this beauty! See how breathtaking these incredible shapes are that this pen is creating! I never knew that forms could look so astonishing!”
An older ant, who had seen a little more of the world, replied knowingly: “This beauty is the work of the fingers that are holding the pen. The pen isn't the originator of this masterpiece, the hand is.”
“You are both wrong!” a third ant interrupted. “This is the work of the arm. Just look at those skinny, bony fingers. How could they ever create such a chef d'oeuvre?”
Gradually more ants joined them, all eager to offer their opinions. Their leader, who was known for his superior intelligence, finally declared: “Don't believe that this work belongs to the realm of matter, because all matter vanishes with age like a dream. Material things are meant for physical life, but forms are originally created out of intelligence and spirit.”
Unbeknown to even the wise leader, beyond intelligence and spirit, ultimately an act of God is necessary for anything to become manifest.
The Crow and the Grave
Cain had mercilessly killed his brother Abel and was carrying the corpse on his shoulders, unable to decide how and where to hide the body so he wouldn't be caught out by his parents, Adam and Eve. Never before had he been faced with such a daunting task, and now he felt lost. Looking around him as he bore the weight of the corpse, he tried to come up with a solution, but his mind was too limited to be of much use.
It was late, and the sky was turning dark; Cain felt that his chance to resolve the situation was rapidly disappearing, when he spotted a crow flying low toward him. At first, he thought it was a hallucination, but then as the crow flew closer, Cain could clearly see that he was carrying what seemed like a dead crow in his beak. Gracefully, the bird circled in the air, and just as gracefully he landed nearby. Slowly and gently, he let the dead crow roll out of his beak onto the ground, and he proceeded to dig into the earth with his powerful claws. Once the hole was deep enough, the crow used his beak to push the corpse in and began to cover the dead bird with the soil he had dug up only a few moments earlier.
Cain watched the crow in utter amazement, wondering how it was possible that a simple, common bird could be so much smarter than he was! Immediately he followed the bird's example and buried his slain brother in the ground, leaving no trace behind for his parents to ever stumble upon.
Unbeknown to Cain, people need guidance in almost all tasks they face on earth, and the simple crow had been assigned to teach this lowest of acts: grave digging.
The Famished Dog
An Arab man was hunched over by the side of the road next to a dying dog, weeping grievously. Another Arab walked by and saw him.
“Why are you wailing like this?” he asked empathetically.
“I'm grief stricken for my dog,” replied the sobbing man. “He was an excellent companion, but he's dying now. He fetched my food in the daytime and guarded my home at night. He had a quick eye and was a fierce hunter, scaring away any thief who dared approach our home.”
“What's his problem now? Is he injured?”
“No, his problem is hunger!” confessed the owner. “He's so hungry that he can't move anymore.”
“May God grant you patience. May you find another worthy dog like this one again,” commiserated the passerby.
The two men watched the poor dog as he continued to pant and whimper. The passerby suddenly noticed a large bag next to the Arab's foot and asked him: “What's in the bag?”
“Oh, nothing much, just the leftover food from my meal last night. I'm taking it home so it can nourish my body again tonight.”
“You must have some dry bread in there. Why don't you give it to the poor dog?”
“Hold on, I don't have that much affection for him!” replied the Arab, sounding quite surprised. “I find it hard to part with anything before I get paid for it first. But then again, tears are free!”
“What kind of a human being are you?” exclaimed the man. “The place for you is in hell itself! How could you even begin to imagine that a loaf of bread is more valuable than a single teardrop? Don't you know that our tears are the sorrows of our heart manifested into visible drops?”
The owner of the dog watched the other Arab walk away shaking his head in disbelief but sadly could not comprehend the magical piece of wisdom he had just been offered.
Peacock
A physician was taking a walk one day in the lush meadows behind his home when he spotted a beautiful male peacock in the distance. Curious to see the peacock up close, he carefully made his way toward the bird. Squinting his eyes to focus better and make sure he wasn't mistaken, the man saw that the bird was cruelly pulling out his sublime feathers with his beak and spitting them as far away from himself as he could. The man was perplexed and decided to investigate, so slowly he approached the bird.
“Hello, heavenly creature! What are you doing pulling out those exquisite feathers of yours?” he asked softly, keeping his voice low but unable to hide his concern. “How can you accept in your heart to destroy such beauty? Your feathers are admired around the world. Those who memorize the Koran use them as bookmarks, and noblemen use them to fan themselves in hot weather. Are you aware who it was that created your unrivalled glory? How can you throw away God's gift so ungraciously?”
As the wise man spoke his mind, hoping that the peacock had a good listening ear, he realized that perhaps he had been too rash in questioning the bird in the first place. Perhaps he had also been too quick to offer his advice; every activity has its own designated time and place, and he had not respected this fundamental reality. Nevertheless, he could hardly conceal his anguish as he watched the bird continue his plucking.
“Get away from me,” exclaimed the peacock, clearly annoyed. “You're still distracted by my superficial beauty! Can't you see that it's because of these feathers that I've had to bear so much pain? Every time I turn around, there's a hunter stalking me. I can't protect myself from harm; I'm large in size, but truly I'm quite weak. If I can't repel danger, then I may as well make myself look as unseemly as possible! I want to be able to roam anywhere I choose, peacefully and without fear. These feathers are the cause of my egotism, they've brought me much unnecessary harm. It's time for me to be rid of all such ornaments! If anyone can understand, it's God!”
The peacock resumed plucking the remaining feathers, ignoring the man, who continued to stand by watching in silence as his tears flowed uncontrollably.
The Ready Lover
A young couple had fallen in love but, due to unforeseen circumstances, had lost touch with each other for almost a year. Not having spoken a word the entire time, they were almost at the end of their tether when one day, by chance, they came face to face in a rose garden.
“My darling, I can't believe my eyes!” gasped the boy, almost out of breath. “I've been heartbroken and lost without you. Life's been nothing but hell; my tears have dried up altogether. I've endured more hardship than I can fathom.”
He went on and on without letting the girl utter a single word. He was so engrossed in his story of self-pity that his eyes glistened with selfish tears! The girl listened to him patiently until she found an opportunity to speak.
“You've done everything, my dear, except the main thing,” she told him sadly.
“What could that possibly be?” asked the young man, flabbergasted.
“You've clutched vainly at issues that are only secondary and given up on the main issue, which is understanding the essence of love!”
“What's the essence of love?” he asked, confused.
“Nothingness!”
“Nothingness?” the boy blurted out, even more confused.
“Yes, my dear, you did everything you thought was proper, believing that's what lovers must do. But you forgot that you must be ready to die for your love. You're still alive, and very much so. If you're a true lover, then die right here before me so I know that you believe you must give up your entire being for your love.”
When the young man heard his beloved's words, he quietly lay down before her feet, closed his eyes, and simply expired, bearing a wide, contented smile on his young lips as he passed from this life.
Tears during Prayer
One of the five pillars of Islam is prayer—done five times a day—and nothing must interfere with praying. The words spoken in prayer are the Moslem's tools for connecting with God and are paramount to one's existence. It's imperative, during the prayer, that one's mind doesn't drift off and entertain thoughts other than the words of the prayer itself.
One day a man went to his mufti and asked him: “Are tears allowed during prayer?”
“Depends on the tears, my good man,” replied the mufti.
“How so?”
“If the tears have their source in the spiritual world—if they've sprung forth because of a spiritual experience and one's established a connection with the divine—then tears are a grace! However, if they've sprung from some physical pain or emotional discomfort, then they're a distraction and indeed may cut off one's connection with God; such tears are certainly not welcome.”
