66.   Shahab. Part 2

Please read blog 65 for continuity.

Nothing happened after that dream for about 3 months. Those 3 months were terrible. I thought I lost all my gains. I was in great anguish. Then on June 9, 1938, I received my first letter from ‘Ninety’. I consider that one of the few most important days of my life. The envelope was stamped 9.30 am, Jammu city. I received it the same day at 12.30 pm. Same day delivery was impossible in city postal system. It was a hand written, 13 page letter in difficult English. One half of the letter consisted of an analysis of my past life and character, and the second half had orders, exercises, and my future plan. The letter had some intimate details which nobody except me (and God) knew, and some even I did not fully know. The letter was signed ‘ninety years old Fakir’

Who was Ninety? I don’t know. I have never met him or seen him. Once I asked him, who are you? Where do you live? What is your spiritual rank? The reply came: You will never find. As for rank, everybody is a traveler on this path…………………………….

I received written instructions from him for almost next 25 years. The instructions would come as letters, which I would sometime find under my pillow, in a shelf, or sometime they would materialize out of thin air, in the room, or outside walking. I had the orders to destroy them as soon as possible. One time I thought of saving a little piece as a holy relic. As soon as I thought of it, a letter came. It stated that in a few minutes lights will go off, and my hands will be tied with live snakes for half an hour. I was terrified. I asked for forgiveness, and said I won’t do it in future.  Within minutes reply came. It said “ Ha Ha .  So you are afraid of just two snakes. Have you ever thought of countless worms which will be in your grave, etc………….”

Islam’s holiest place is Kaaba. It is also called Bait ullah or house of God. It is situated in Mecca, Saudi Arabia.  Shahab did not seem to be much affected by his first visit to kaaba. In contrast, he was full of fervor as he started towards Medina, the second holiest city in Islam, where the holy Prophet is buried in Masjid-a- nubwi. He was walking on foot in hot desert sand. He threw away his shoes, as a sign of devotion. Burning heat sent waves of heat from soles to head. Before he could get his first glimpse of the dome of the mosque, he thought, his eyes should be purified from the filth of  this world. What better purifying substance than the sand of Prophet’s city . So he put a little bit of sand in his eyes. Soon his eyes were red and he could hardly see. He started bumping into people. In front of the mosque he was thrown on the pile of pilgrim’s shoes. The guardian of shoes took pity on him and seated him on his mat. When asked by the guardian what was wrong with his eyes, he told the story of putting sand. Tears came in the guardian’s eyes. He helped him a lot. Gave food, shelter in his own house, took him to a  doctor, bought him medicine, and a bus ticket . But most of all, authorized him to spend several hours at night inside the mosque ( which was prohibited ). Shahab writes, that he got the opportunity to sweep inside the railing of Prophet’s tomb, that holy place on earth, with his eyelashes

There was a supernatural incident in the same mosque on some other visit narrated by his friend Mumtaz mufti (see foot note) but I won’t mention it here because it is not narrated by Shahab himself.

Shahab once spent a night, alone, in Masjid-a-aqsa , the third holiest site in Islam, located in Jerusalem. He states:

When I was all by myself the holiness and history of the place, swallowed me. I felt as if I was a dirty dog, which by mistake, had landed in a palace made of precious glass. My teeth started chattering and I started violently shivering. I had convulsions and I fell in a time tunnel in which thousands of years of asleep history woke up. On scintillating highways, like milky way, I saw the processions of great holy prophets. Streams of light emerged from the dust of their feet. Prophets like Abraham, David, Solomon, Moses, Jesus, and then the last prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)………………………………………………………………………..I saw great wonders of My God…………………..

Finally, an incident few days (?) before his death:

One day when he returned at 11:30 from his morning walk, his face was red and eyes were shining, as if he was drunk, and trying to prevent himself from reeling. He was sort of giggling with joy. One hand was closed in a fist , while the other was on his heart. Seeing his state his sister Mehmooda became perturbed……………………………………. . He said he got a prize that day. His sister said that was nothing new, “All your life you have been getting prizes”. He said, this was the biggest, most precious, and the last gift. I prayed for it for years. Begged for it. And today I got it unasked. He told:

I did not feel well. One time I thought of going back , but persisted. I reached the houses of naval headquarters. I rested by a wall, and watched children playing a game. I closed my eyes. I heard a tiny voice saying’ Baba,Baba (old man)’ I opened my eyes. A little boy was standing with worried look on his face. Then he said “do you want flour or money”(what you would say to a common beggar). I caressed his head with love and said “both” he ran to his home. He came back and said “mother says there is no flour, but have money” he put a shining coin in my hand.

Why did shahab think that coin so important? I leave it to your own interpretation

 

 

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Note. Lubbaik by Mumtaz Mufti

 

65.  Shahab . Part 1.

 

The readers must by now be acquainted with Shahab. I have mentioned him in blog 9, 32 and 64. His book (Shahab nama) was my first introduction to mysticism. His book was the catalyst for this mote

               I have mentioned his dream in which he saw the holy prophet Muhammad ( peace be upon him) in a dream (blog 9). His next good fortune occurred with the following incident which he himself narrates:

One day I was touring a far flung area. I went for Friday prayers to a dilapidated mosque in a small village . The Imam was saying laughable and incredulous things. But one thing struck my heart. He said that sometimes very exalted companions of the Prophet will come to Bibi Fatimah, Prophet’s favorite daughter, for her intercession on their behalf. The Prophet loved and respected her so much that he won’t turn her down. After the prayer was finished I stayed in the mosque and said more prayers. Then I prayed to God with utmost sincerity that I  don’t know if the story about Bibi Fatimah is correct or not. Oh Allah , I beg You to allow the spirit of Fatimah to ask her  exalted father to grant my request. The request is that I want to go on the path of quest of God. I do not have the capability to follow the standard paths. I should be set on Awaisia path, if that path is a reality and not a fiction

               Several weeks passed. I did not mention my prayer to anybody. I myself forgot about it. Then one day I received a strange letter from Germany from my sister-in-law. Here is a verbatim excerpt:

“ the other night I had the good fortune to see Fatimah, the daughter of the Holy Prophet (peace be upon him) in my dream. She talked to me most graciously and said ‘ tell your brother-in-law Qudrat Ullah Shahab, that I have submitted his request to my exalted father who has very kindly accepted it”

After receiving that letter I became mad with intoxication and delight. I stayed put in a room for 3 days. Waves of ecstasy would run through my body ,whenever I would think that my name was mentioned between such an  exalted father and his exalted daughter

After that I started seeing many mystics and saints in my dreams. I neither recognized them, nor could I understand their language. My heart did not melt to them. One night I saw a very lovely and handsome saint who was circling Kaaba with an intoxicating abandon. My heart prostrated at his feet. He also came to me, smiling and said “ my name is Quttab ud din Bakhtiar Kaki. you are not our type, but you have been accepted by the authority, to which we all submit”

He made me sit in a place near Hateem. He put a cup between us which contained some edible thing in it. Suddenly he said ‘you want this life or that life’ Even in dream my cowardice woke up. I thought that this question meant an invitation to immediate death . I was being asked to choose between this world or the world after death. I wanted to stay alive. I replied ‘ exalted Sir, a little bit of both’. The moment I uttered those words a black dog like animal came from my left side, and put his mouth in the cup

Witnessing this Mr. Quttab smiled and said ‘ Alas! this free gift was not for you. Your base self is dominant. You will have to undergo purification processes.

To be continued

 

 

62.Data Gunj Bakhash . part one

 

 

I have chosen Data Sahib (a title of respect: that is how he is known) because not only he is one of the greatest saints of all times, but also because his effects are still felt everyday by dozens, if not hundreds, of  people every day, although he died close to a thousand years ago. Furthermore, he wrote an autobiography, an invaluable asset in judging a mystic, because mystics do not lie or exaggerate. Their opinions may be wrong and biased, but their facts are not.

Data Sahib was ordered to go to Lahore (now in Pakistan, but at that time undivided India) by his murshad Abu-ul Fazal Muhammad bin Hassan Khatli in 11th century. He obeyed the orders and arrived through Afghanistan. He died in Lahore approximately 30 years later and is buried there. Modern Lahore is a big city of 6-7 million people. Everyday hundreds if not thousands of persons visit his shrine. Every Thursday several fold more people visit. Some students live and study there. Free food is distributed every day. It is claimed that perhaps this is the only place in the world where a hungry person can find food at any time of day or night. How is it made possible? Because one of the many inhabitants of Lahore, or a visitor from some other town, will be standing on a foot path and distributing food. He may have vowed at some occasion that if his murad (desire ) gets fulfilled he will feed certain number of people at Data sahib’s shrine. It follows that lot of murads must get fulfilled to feed hundreds. Sikh golden temple at Amritsar has the world’s largest eatery, where free food is distributed at fixed times.

      Now after this brief introduction, back to Data Sahib. Like the other Muslim mystics of his time he had undergone many years of training from his teacher. He had travelled far and wide and learnt mysticism and Islam from many teachers. He wore a Gudri (like a robe), a traditional garb of Sufis made of rough cloth with repair patches, and carried a staff, a prayer rug and a Lota ( a utensil with a spout).  Usually he had nothing else on his journeys. He wrote ten books, only one Kushaf ul mahjoob has survived. Originally written in Persian, the Urdu and English versions are widely available). This close to 600 pages book is a treatise on Islamic mysticism, the mystics of that period, and the way things were in 11th century. This mote has benefitted from this book.

For you to know Data Sahib, let me quote some excerpts from the book:

“ My murshad wore the same Gudri for 51 years . It had irregular patches “He was completely isolated for 60 years in mountain caves. Nobody knew him. Usually he lived on a hill called Lagam. He lived a pious life. I never met a man with more imposing bearing than him.

    One day my murshad and I were travelling from  Bait-ul-jin to Damascus. It was raining. I had trouble walking in mud. I looked at my murshad . His clothes and shoes were dry. When I asked him , he said” since…………………… God has saved me from mud.

My murashd could read one’s thoughts. One time while pouring water over his hands, my thoughts wandered over a philosophic riddle. My murshad read my thoughts and told me his answer. On another occasion, just before his death, while his head was resting over my thigh,  I started thinking about a fellow disciple with hurt feelings. He looked up and said” son, I will tell you something which will strengthen your heart; consider all events, good or bad, originating from God, so don’t be sad or critical about other’s actions”. He did not say anything else and died

  One time I had some problem which I could not solve so I went to a mystic in Toos. He was alone in a mosque. He stated narrating my problem to a pillar, before I had a chance to tell him the problem. I said , Sir, who you are talking to. He said God told me to talk to this pillar. Then he gave me the answer.

There are 17 such supernatural episodes narrated in the book, 5 of them were witnessed directly by Data Sahib. He does not mention any of his own.

His most famous incident was the following:

Once I had a great problem. I went to Ba-Yazid Bistami’s shrine for enlightenment ( this shrine still exists in Bistam, Iran). I did chilla (an austere religious exercise) for 3 month. I did not find a solution. I thought of going to Khurassan. In that area, one night I had to stay in a monastery. A group of sufis were staying there. I was clad in a rough Gudri. I had a staff, a lota and nothing else. The group looked at me with disdain. Nobody recognized me. they were talking between themselves and said that I was not one of them. I was forced to stay since there was nowhere else to go. They gave me a roofless verandah. They were themselves at a higher level. They gave me one dry, fungus infested roti (flat bread ). I smelled the aroma of delicious food that they were eating. They were making loud derogatory remarks about me. Then they started eating cantaloupes. As an interesting pastime they started throwing the rinds on my head. I was saying  to myself “oh God , if I were not wearing the garb of your lovers, I would have gone away from these people” . As their treatment grew worse, my inner joy proportionally increased. So much so, that the burden of this incident, solved my riddle; the riddle for which I had originally gone to Ba-Yazid Bistami’s shrine.

I have with my own eyes witnessed a durvesh ( a Muslim monk) walking the hills of Azerbaijan ( an independent country now ) , moaning and crying and reciting the following Arabic verses at a fast speed:

     “I swear by Allah that not a day has passed when you were not in my thoughts. I have not talked anything except You in any company. I have thought of You in joy and sorrow. My every breath is filled with Your love. When I was thirsty, I  always drank from the cup in such a way that I imagined You in the cup. If I could come to you I would have come crawling on my head and face.”

Reading these verses rapidly had a profound effect on him. He sat down resting his back on a boulder and soon died. May God have grace on him