On the Cosmic Truth

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

Among those who enjoy Sufi or folk music in South Asia, one particular performer Abida is quite popular.  She frequently combines the poem of famous Sufis and renders them into ecstatic songs, that bring joy to her audience. One particular compilation titled "Ek Nukte Wich Gal Mukdi Hai", roughly translated as "In this point, all discourse ends" goes on and on about the true essence of religion - the Cosmic Truth. 

In "Ek Nukte" she has combined the poems of Sayyid Abdullah (Bulley) Shah, Ghulam Farid and Sultan Bahu beautifully to elucidate the simple truth that the entire purpose of God's teachings is to have a pure sincere heart, that is considerate to others.

I have attempted a loose translation below:

نماز پڑھن کم زنانہ

Some consider (my) prayers inferior

اتے روزہ صرفہ روٹی 

And (my) fasts merely miserliness

اونچیاں بانگاں  او دیں دیں

Yet they whose calls for prayer are loud and high pitched

نیّت جنہاں دی کھوٹی

May well be those whose intentions are corrupt

مکّے تے ول او ہی جاں دیں

And those who rush to be the first to go to Mecca for pilgrimage

جیڈے ہو دے کم دے ٹوٹی

Perhaps are not doing what they are supposed to, at home

وے میاں بھللیا جے ہووے حب یار ملن دی

O Bhulley ! If you truly desire to meet the Beloved

تے رکھ صاف اندر دی کوٹھی

you should ensure that (His) abode inside you is pure (i.e., your heart)

اس کا مکھ اک جیوت ہے ، گھونگھٹ ہے سنسار

His face is a Jyot (Noor/ Divine Light), and the veil is this world

گھونگھٹ میں وہ چھپ گیا ، منہ پر آنچل ڈار    

And He has hidden Himself in this veil, cloaking His Face from us

 اک نقطے وچ گل مک دی ہے

And this is where it all discourse ends

پھڈ نقطہ چھوڈ حساباں نوں

Hold on to this essence, and forget petty accounting

لکھ کروڑ نماز پڑھی وے مللہ 

The Mullah may pray hundreds of thousands of prayers,

ایویں یار ملن دستور نہیں

Certainly not the way to reach the Beloved

جے سین دل ساجت نہ کریں

If you do not tend to matters of the heart,

تے سین سجدہ تیرا منظور نہیں

Your prostrations will never be accepted

چا غیر کنو دل دور کریں

No sooner have you distanced your heart from everything other than the Beloved

پچھے یار ملن کچھ دور نہیں

You will find Him without delay

آ کہے غلام فریدا، او دل کی ہے، جہ دل وچ عربی بول دا نور نہیں

Says Ghulam Farid, what kind of a heart is that, in which the Noor of the Qur'an has not entered?

پھڈ نقطہ چھوڈ حساباں نوں

Hold on to the essence, forget petty accounts

چھڈ دوزخ گورعذاباں نوں 

Cast aside discussions of hellfire, and punishments of the grave

کر بند کفر دیاں باباں نوں

Stop discussions on infidelity and infidels

کر صاف دلے دیاں خواباں نوں 

Purify your heart's dreams and aspirations

گل ایسے گھر وچ ڈھک دی ہے 

The Truth will descend upon such a heart

 اک نقطے وچ گل مک دی ہے

And this is where it all discourse ends

جے کر دین علم وچ ہوندا

And if the deen was really in your bookish knowledge

تا سر نیزے کیوں چڑھ دے او

Then why would innocents be beheaded, and their heads raised on lances ? (referring to the martyrdom of Sayyidina Hussain (may Allah be pleased with him, and bless him) in Karbala)

جے کچھ ملاحظہ اس در دا کر دے

And if they had any regard for his (Prophet Muhammad's (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) doorstep

تے خیمے تمبو کیوں سڑ دے ہو 

They would not have routed (his family's) camp

جے کر من دے بیت رسولی

And if they truly honored their pledge to the Prophet (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him)

 تا پانی کیوں بند کردے ہو

Then why would the deprive them (Prophet's (peace and blessings of Allah be upon him) family) of water?

پر صادق دین تنہا دے باہو  

And remember O Bahoo ! The true deen belongs to them

 جو سر قربانی کر دے ہو

who sacrifice(d) themselves

 ایویں متھا زمین گھسائی جا  

Keep rubbing your forehead on the floor

 پا لیتا محراب دکھائی دا

And you have found your ostentatious mihraab (sanctuary)

پڑھ کلمہ لوک ہنسائی دا 

And your parroting has brought ridicule to the kalimah (assertion of faith)

 دل اندر سمجھ نہ لائی دا 

As it has not been understood by the depths of your heart

کدی سچی بات بھی لک دی ہے

Has the truth ever remained hidden for long?

 اک نقطے وچ گل مک دی ہے

And this is where it all discourse ends

پھڈ نقطہ چھوڈ حساباں نوں

Hold on to the essence, forget petty accounts

 تسبیح پڑھے مکاراں والی    

You pray the rosary of deception

 تے داڑھی کیتی چٹی

And your beard looks white (like someone of repute)

پرا وا مال ایویں کھاد اوے 

You usurp the rights of others

 جے وے ترکاری لگ دی میٹھی

and you enjoy it with delight

نہ تو مندر مشیتی وریا

I doubt you have ever truly entered a temple or a mosque...

 نہ قبر اندھری دیکھی

or have ever thought about the darkness of a grave

خبر تداں پوسائی بھللیہ 

Better ask about him, O Bhulle !

 جدااں منہ تے آتی مٹی

when the face is being covered with dust (being buried)

 کئی حاجی بن بن آئے جی، گل نیلے جامے پایے جی    

Many of them return from the pilgrimage, adorned in beautiful attire,

حجج ویچ دھکیلے پایے جی ، پر یہ گل کنو بھایے جی  

even after having suffered the tribulations of hajj, they still don't like what I have to share

کتھے سچی گل وی رک دی ہے 

but can you ever prevent the truth from revealing itself?

 اک نقطے وچ گل مک دی ہے

And this is where it all discourse ends

نہ میں عالم نہ میں فاضل نہ مفتی نہ قاضی ہوں 

Neither a scholar, nor a learned man am I, neither jurist nor judge

نہ دل میرا دوزخ مانگے ، نہ شوق بہشتی راضی ہوں

I certainly don't aspire for Hellfire, but my heart is not content with the pursuance of paradise

نہ میں تارے روزے راکھے نہ میں پاک نمازی ہوں

I haven't fulfilled the obligatory fasts, and I am not a virtuous worshipper

باجھ وصال الله دے باہو، ہوئی دنیا کوڑی بازی ہو   

Devoid of Union with Allah, O Bahoo ! This world is just an illusory distraction

Relationship with the Qur'an

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

Iqbal, in one of the poems in his Rumuz-e-Bekhudi ( Secrets of Selflessness), states that the foundation of any community is only possible through established principles of what may be called Constitution, or Law, and that the foundation of Muslim community is the Qur'an. However, he laments:

 

ملتي را رفت چون آئين ز دست
مثل خاک اجزاي او از هم شکست

When a community forsakes its Constitution
It disintegrates into dust, defeated.

هستي مسلم ز آئين است و بس
باطن دين نبي اين است و بس

The very existence of a Muslim rests on this Constitution

And nothing else,

Which is the very core of the faith brought by the Apostle (salallahu alayhi wasallam)

And nothing else.

برگ گل شد چون ز آئين بسته شد
گل ز آئين بسته شد گلدسته شد

A rose is shaped by conjoining of its component petals, according to a system

And the roses, likewise shape a bouquet.

نغمه از ضبط صدا پيداستي

ضبط چون رفت از صدا غوغاستي

A melody is created by organized utterances of sounds,
Which otherwise is chaotic cacophony.

در گلوي ما نفس موج هواست
چون هوا پابند ني گردد ، نواست

The breath we draw within our throats, is but a wave of air which, 

In the reed flute, is shaped into a soulful note.

تو همي داني که آئين تو چيست؟
زير گردون سر تمکين تو چيست؟

Do you know what this Constitution is? 

Wherein lie the secrets of your immense power?

آن کتاب زنده قرآن حکيم
حکمت او لايزال است و قديم

It is the living Book, that wise Qur'an
Whose wisdom is eternal

نسخه ي اسرار تکوين حيات
بي ثبات از قوتش گيرد ثبات

The secrets of the design of life itself
Are recorded therein

Any wavering is granted stability by its potency.

حرف او را ريب ني تبديل ني
آيه اش شرمنده ي تأويل ني

Its words are certain, and unchangeable
Its signs not subjugate to loose interpretations

پخته تر سوداي خام از زور او
در فتد با سنگ ، جام از زور او

It emboldens the cup, that it acquires fearlessness
Even to dash head-on against a rock.

مي برد پابند و آزاد آورد
صيد بندان را بفرياد آورد

It casts away the shackling chains, and leads the free man forth
And bring disgrace to the transgressors

نوع انسان را پيام آخرين
حامل او رحمة للعالمين

The final message to all humankind
Was borne by him elect of God, the Mercy to All Mankind (salallahu alayhi wasallam)

ارج مي گيرد ازو ناارجمند
بنده را از سجده سازد سر بلند

By this (Qur'an) one devoid of worth, attains value of highest level
The prostrate slave lifts up his head on high.

رهزنان از حفظ او رهبر شدند
از کتابي صاحب دفتر شدند

It transforms even highwaymen into protectors and guides
Who due to this book, and by this book, became qualified high masters of the rolls;

دشت پيمايان ز تاب يک چراغ
صد تجلي از علوم اندر دماغ

Rustic desert‐farers through this lamp’s glow
Attained a hundred revelations to their brains
And succeeded in every science

آنکه دوش کوه بارش بر نتافت
سطوت او زهره ي گردون شکافت

So that, whose load the mountain’s massive shoulders could not bear,
Clove by its might, the power of the spheres.

بنگر آن سرمايه ي آمال ما
گنجد اندر سينه ي اطفال ما

See how this investment of all our hopes
Is lodged securely in our children’s breasts!

آن جگر تاب بيابان کم آب
چشم او احمر ز سوز آفتاب

The weary wanderer in the wilderness
Thirsty, eyes aflame in the hot sun,

خوشتر از آهو رم جمازه اش
گرم چون آتش دم جمازه اش

Riding a camel nimbler than the agile deer,
With its fiery breath

رخت خواب افکنده در زير نخيل
صبحدم بيدار از بانگ رحيل

When he would look to sleep casting him down beneath some shady palm,
Then with the dawn awake, as the caravan
clanged for departure

دشت سير از بام و در ناآشنا
هرزه گردد از حضر ناآشنا

Ever traveling through the unfamiliar wilderness
A stranger to roof and door or a fixed abodes

تا دلش از گرمي قرآن تپيد
موج بيتابش چو گوهر آرميد

When his wild heart responded vibrantly

To the Qur'an's warm glow, its restless waves calmed like a sequestered pearl.

خواند ز آيات مبين او سبق
بنده آمد ‘ خواجه رفت از پيش حق

Reading the clear lesson of its Signs
He who had come a slave,
Went forth a leader with Truth

از جهانباني نوازد ساز او
مسند جم گشت پا انداز او

Now from his instrument, gushed forth new melodies
Even the high throne of Jamshid, was humbled by his gait

شهر ها از گرد پايش ريختند
صد چمن از يک گلش انگيختند

Cities sprang forth from his trodden dust
A hundred bowers blossomed from this single rose.

اي گرفتار رسوم ايمان تو
شيوه هاي کافري زندان تو

O you who have enslaved his faith to local rites and customs
Imprisoned by the charms of heathendom,

قطع کردي امر خود را در زبر
جاده پيماي الي «شئي نکر»

You who hast torn your heritage to shreds
Treading the long road to a detestable end,

گر تو ميخواهي مسلمان زيستن
نيست ممکن جز بقرآن زيستن

If you wish to live the Muslim life anew
This cannot be, except that you live by the Qur'an

صوفي پشمينه پوش حال مست
از شراب نغمه ي قوال مست

The Sufis in their Pashmina garbs are intoxicated
By the melodious chorus of the ecstatic Qawwals

آتش از شعر عراقي در دلش
در نمي سازد بقرآن محفلش

Hearts aflame due to the fierce fervour of Iraqi’s verse!
His state has little to do with the austere Qur'an

از کلاه و بوريا تاج و سرير
فقر او از خانقاهان باج گير

The crown and the throne is replaced by a dervish cap and mat of reeds
His boastful poverty prospers due to
Rich tributes endowed on his hermitage

واعظ دستان زن افسانه بند
معني او پست و حرف او بلند

The preacher, with his wealth of anecdotes
And wordy legends,
Has little truth to tell for all his fine grandiloquence

از خطيب و ديلمي گفتار او
با ضعيف و شاذ و مرسل کار او

Khatib and Dailami are on his lips all the time
His job is to delight in arguments on authenticity of Tradition

از تلاوت بر تو حق دارد کتاب
تو ازو کامي که ميخواهي بياب

It is your duty to recite the Book and seek its Truth
And therein find your true purpose

On finding a spiritual guide

بِسْمِ اللّهِ الرَّحْمـَنِ الرَّحِيمِ

It is often said in spiritual circles, you cannot choose a murshid (guide), but that the choice is mutual, or it is also said that if the mureed (disciple) is ready the murshid will appear.  I think both ideas are not different, but facets of the same truth.

A case in point is the oft-quoted story of Amir Khusrow finding his murshid Hazrat Shaikh Khwaja Syed Muhammad Nizamuddin Auliya of the Chisti order.

Legend has it that at a tender age, his mother took him to the khanqah of Hazrat Nizamuddin to be inducted into his spiritual group. As they reached the gates, he did not enter, choosing to sit outside and try to gauge the stature of his would-be murshid. To this effect, he composed the following lines in his heart :

تو آن شاهی که بر ایوان قصرت
کبوتر گر نشیند "باز" گردد
غریبی،خسته جانی از در آمد

بیاید اندرون یا باز گردد؟ 

Tu aan shahi ke ber aiwan-e qasrat
Kabutar gar nasheenad, baaz gardad
Ghareeb-e khasta jaaney az der aamed
Be-yaayad andaroon, ya baaz gardad

You are a king at the gate of whose palace
Even a pigeon becomes a falcon.
A poor traveler has arrived at your doorstep,
Should he enter, or should he return?


Barely had he finished composing the lines above, one of Hazrat Nizamuddin's disciples came out to greet him at the door, with a message from the murshid:

بیاید اندرون مرد حقیقت
که با ما یک نفس همراز گردد
اگر جاهل بود آن  مرد و نادان
ز هر راهی که آید باز گردد

Be-yaayad andaroon mard-e haqeeqat
Ke ba ma yek nafas hamraaz gardad
Agar jahil buvad aan mard-e naadan
Azaan raah-e ke aamad baaz gardad

Oh man of reality, do come inside
That you become for a while my confidant
But if the one who wishes to enter is foolish
Then he should return the way he came.


Hearing this, Khusrow was ecstatic, knowing that he has found his murshid and he uttered some lines to his mother in the form of a song that has become famous in Sufi circles in South Asia- known as Rang-e-Khusro or Range Khusrow and can be found around the Web for example here.