70.  Love for God. Part 3

Love for You is strange

Time does not diminish it

It feeds on Your thought

Your silence does not finish it

It grows with time

It has no decline

 

Human love needs sharing

We share our joys and sorrows

We share our hopes and dreams

We share our todays and tomorrows

There is no sharing with God

He does not talk back

One’s soul may be on fire

One’s body may be on rack

One may cry out! Help me

Lord, I am going to crack

Who cares if one dies?

Eternal silence is Your reply

 

Life and death are meaningless to Divinity

You are God! You live in infinity

Mind does not know of cells it consist

You probably don’t know if we exist

 

Mkadk will keep loving You oh God

My silent, invisible, untouchable, indifferent Lord

 

 

 

69.  Love for God. Part 2

 

Mkadk does  not know how it starts

Who plants it in mind’s hive?

But soon it becomes essential

Like air is to all life

 

One is caught in a tornado

Separation charges this dynamo

Joy and pain rise to a crescendo

Finally union tames this inferno

 

Union with God is the aim

Every seeker continues his endeavor

Though none falters or waver

Lucky few are granted this favor

 

 

68. Love for God . part 1

 

Love for God is very strange

I do not know how You look like

I have never seen You

I have never talked to You

I have never touched You

Yet I love You!

You have never returned my love

I do not know where You live

I do not know how to reach You

If I try to reach You

You do not encourage it

Throw hurdles in my path

Yet mkadk loves You!

Because he feels You

 

 

67.  Mr. ShevanI . part 1.

 

Mr Shevani was a rich millionaire or billionaire of Gujranwala, Pakistan, who died few months ago. He was not a particularly religious person. He was a kind hearted man who liked to help others; particularly he spent money to help poor women get married.

He would some time pray to Allah for a very strange wish. He prayed to meet the greatest Qalander( high grade Muslim mystic ) of this period.

One day a bearded well dressed man came to his house. The man said that he has received orders through some channels to take him to a recluse mystic in FATA ( federally  administered tribal area). That man did not know why. This area is very dangerous. There is a continuous war between Pakistan Army and Taliban controlled local population. It is somewhat lawless area. The man asked Mr Shevani that what was his relationship with Data Darbar. Mr shevani said that he was not a devotee of Data Sahib and did not have any particular relationship. He had often visited the shrine because he greatly respected Data Sahib, but many a time he would often not even go inside, but say prayers or distribute food to the needy, outside. This man then asked Mr Shevani that what could be his reason to meet the recluse Qalandar. Mr Shevani then told him of his prayer. The man and Mr Shevani agreed that God must have answered his prayer. This man had met the great Qalander once before, and had firsthand knowledge of his great spirituality.

Now Mr Shevani was face to face with reality. He had also wanted ( and might have told God in His prayer that he wanted to spend rest of his life with the Qalander ) to give up the world and stay with this Qalander ( if he would allow him). This was the moment of truth. Should he give up this world of his children and grandchildren. The world of tasty foods to eat, soft bed to sleep, house to protect from heat and cold, servants to obey his wishes, money to buy whatever he wanted or go to a world of cold, poverty , fasts and hardship. He knew he will have to live in a cave, sleep on hay or grass covered floor, and eat very little food. He will have to face harsh approaching winter. The people surrounding him would be speaking different language ( although they could also speak Urdu ) and would have different customs.

Mr shevani was not deterred. He asked for 3 days to wrap his affairs

When Mr Shevani and the guide arrived at the Mystic’s place he was not there. He had left one day earlier to an unknown place. But by his spiritual knowledge he knew that they were coming . He had left instructions with his two disciples, that the guide should stay the night. He left some Poultice for the guide’s feet which had multiple sores from walking bare feet. He also said that the guide will be bringing dry food for everybody ( which guide had done on his own ). As for Mr Shevani, he said, that he was free to stay in a cave or go back.

Mr Shevani showed great courage and elected to stay, despite the absence of the great Qalander, who may not return for months

He spent the winter in a cave. He was not used to hardship, having spent all his life in luxury. He became gravely ill. A messenger was sent to Lahore to get medicines for him. He survived.

He started building a road and a mosque in that area.

Due to fasting, he was reduced to a skelton. The guide once visited him. They prayed together in his cave/

The great Qalander told him several times, that if he wanted, he was allowed to go back to his home. Mr Shevani always replied that if that was an order, he would obey, otherwise he would stay at his Murshad’s feet.

Mr Shevani stayed steadfast. He never wavered and went back. Approximately eleven months after his arrival he died. He took his last breath, with his head resting at the thigh of the great Qalander.

To be continued

 

 

 

 

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

 

 

64. Data Gunj Bakhash. Part 3

Please read the previous blog for continuity. Here is a second example:

In 1918, there was an epidemic of plague in Lahore. Three sons of a rich titled man of Lahore named Rai Bhahadar Saran Das fell victim to the disease. Three top physicians of Lahore, Col Bhola Nath, Col Amir Chand, Col Sutherland (principal of King Edward medical college) treated them but of no avail. Rai Bhahadar was disconsolate. He narrates ” One night while everybody was asleep, I saw a white bearded person wearing a shining dress, with a staff in one hand and a rosary in other,  reciting something at the foot of my son, Gopal Das's, bed. At seeing a stranger I became worried and asked “who are you”. He did not reply and kept on reciting. Then he went to my other son Roop Ram’s bed and did the same. Then that venerable person came to me and said,” I am your neighbor Gunj Bakhash. I could not stand your sorrow and anguish. So I came to pray. Now don’t worry. Merciful God will cure them”. All three sons recovered. (See footnote)

People come to Data sahib for various reasons. Here is an example of help in spiritual quest; told to me by a person who saw the whole story first hand.

A person, citizen of England, Christian by faith, had been wandering in various countries for 25 years in search of truth. He had spent years in Middle East (including Jerusalem) India, Burma and others. He had practiced mysticism and watched religious practices of Hindu, Buddhist, Christian, Jews, Muslims, and Sikhs. At Ajmer, at the shrine of Moin-ud-din Chishti (also called Khoja Pir, see “Quest of God by Papa Ramdas) he was directed to go to Lahore where he was going to get his guidance. At Data Sahib’s shrine, one day, he met a guide who told him where to go. In the hot desert of Sindh, in the roasting heat of summer, he did his training under a Qalandar (a high grade Muslim mystic) and came back to Lahore. He told this to the person who told me this story “I got my path here " referring to Data Sahib’s shrine.

Here is an example of getting permission; narrated in a book written by Shahab’s close friend and associate Mumtaz Mufti (see footnote):

     Then he said “today I am going to Lahore” There was some bantering between the two friends. They arrived in Lahore in the evening. Two rooms were reserved for them in the rest-house for 3 days. Shahab started preparations. He bathed, changed into new clothes, and put on a prayer cap. Then he said that he was going to Durbar. (The popular name given to Data sahib’s shrine). Mufti also wanted to come along, but Shahab refused. Mufti thought that he must have come for praying to Data Sahib for being posted to Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, as ambassador. Shahab stayed in Durbar, while Mufti wandered restlessly outside. In the morning Shahab knocked at the door. There was great peace on his face.  At Mufti’s questioning Shahab admitted that permission has been granted

Here are two examples of paying tribute.

There is an annual three day anniversary celebration at the shrine, called urs. Hundreds of thousands of visitors, especially mystics, come to the urs from all over the country. On last urs, 2-3 months ago, a Yogi arrived. He was only wearing a loin cloth. It was quite cold in Lahore. He was also wearing dark goggles. The Yogi did not talk to anybody. The person who told me about the Yogi happen to visit him. This person addressed the Yogi with great respect and asked him where he was from. The Yogi eventually replied that he had come from Hindustan (another name for India) and had come to give Salaam to Data sahib. Salaam is a Muslim greeting, so that person thought that this Yogi was a Muslim. The Yogi surmised his thoughts, and said salaam or purnam (Hindu greeting) is the same. His religion was unknown. That person visited him many times in the ensuing days. The Yogi became friendly. One time he asked that why did the Yogi wear dark glasses all the time. The Yogi replied that his eyes had great Shakti .  An exalted mystic friend of this person confirmed that the Yogi’s eyes could burn (the exalted mystic told it to that person without that person asking or describing anything about that Yogi!). So people from other countries and other faiths come to the shrine.

Finally a different kind of homage.

A Qalandar one night, on urs, visited the shrine. He was shouting Allah, Allah at the top of his lungs. The whole shrine felt the vibrations. People were stunned into silence. The Qalandar started thrashing wildly. Several  persons tried to restrain him. In this melee the Qalandar got injured. He left the Durbar, bleeding and still shouting Allah Allah. A person recognized him next day and asked about the previous night. The Qalandar smiled and said “our homage is different” . It is with blood.     

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Hazrat Data Gunj Bakhash by Akmal Awaisi Pirzada

Alakh nugri by Mumtaz Mufti

63. Data Gunj Bakhash. Part two

 

Why was he called Data. It means giver. Giving and providing help to needy was in his nature. That was why people gave him this nickname. He himself writes:

    "One time in the country of Iraq, I started enjoying in making and spending money, extravagantly. I got in lot of debt.  Whosoever needed money, would come to me, and I would incur great troubles in helping them. A sage wrote to me “ be careful, lest in too much activity you forget God. Keep your mind away from the world. God is responsible for humanity………….”After that letter I became free.

  However, it appears, that he resumed his activity of helping others, after death. So, for 10 centuries the title has stuck.  Needy come to his tomb for help. Some for money, others for job or a child, or a husband for a daughter. The stories of his help are numerous. Some ask him to be their spiritual guide. Spiritual seekers have done extremely severe  chillas (an austere spiritual practice) at his shrine for centuries. The list includes mighty saints and mystics. The great mystic Khawja Moin-ud-din Chishti performed 40 day chilla at his tomb. He and Data sahib are the two most famous Muslim saints of Indian subcontinent. His shrine is in Ajmair, India, and is frequented by hundreds of thousand pilgrims each year. He wrote the following verse which most literate Pakistanis know by heart

           “A distributor of treasures, a bestower of bounties to the world, a symbol of God’s light

           A complete mentor to the novices and a guide to the accomplished “

A tree is recognized by its fruits. Data Sahib’s greatness should be judged by its effects. The free food, the residential students, fulfillment of people’s murads, continuation of spiritual mentoring, and finally a person who will plead your case to God Himself.

I can testify with complete truthfulness that Data sahib’s spirit still helps people. it has been doing so for close to a thousand years. What a grand perspective the spirit must be having. Having watched the rise and fall of dynasties and empires; the Slave kings, the Khiljies, the Tughlaqs, the Lodhies, the Mogul emperors, the British Empire, the Sikh rule, and finally the present day Pakistan and India.

Here are two examples of my statement:

Probably 40 years ago, a  person I know, told me this incident of his life. He was a young man and did not have a clear path to his future. He had been having skirmishes with his mother because he wanted her to buy him a truck, but she refused.  Depressed  and desolate, one night he went to Data sahib’s shrine. He wept and prayed at the shrine. Finally he fell asleep, at the railing surrounding his grave. Some voice said to him in his sleep,” go to Baba Lal Shah” he woke up. He had never heard of Baba Lal Shah. In the morning, he ordered a cup of tea at a roadside restaurant and started reading the newspaper. His eyes caught news,.The President, Ayub Khan, had gone to Murree ( a hill resort ) and visited a fakir, called Baba Lal Shah.

This person took a train, a bus,a cab, and arrived in  Baba Lal Shah ‘s place after walking for a mile or so. Two bearded scholarly looking man also walked with him. On the way, they started arguing with each other over the merits and demerits of Ali ( Holy prophet’s Muhammad’s son in law ). In the inn he also met a destitute man who had been there for some days, and was not getting permission to leave. His son had been missing. Next day, the recluse, appeared from a roofless pit. He walked with the help of his arms, being paralyzed in legs. He was apparently naked. He sat down, absorbed in himself. Visitors sat in a circle at a safe distance (he had a stick with which he would sometime beat certain people mercilessly) . He started talking at random. This person understood only that part of his talk which related to him. First he angrily scolded those two bearded passengers. “You bearded scoundrels, what do you know of greatness of  Ali”, he shouted at them. Then he said ,” so you have been sent by the Lahore person. Now you weep at the railing. Before that you were harassing your mother. Ok, you, worldly person, I give you alms”

       The person whose son was missing was told that his son was  safe  and will come home next day ( as I remember ). This person gave him money for bus fare, otherwise he would have been forced to travel on foot. Maybe, he was not being granted permission to leave, because he had no fare money.

     As he was sitting by the window of the bus, a mendicant arrived.” So now you have two seals”, the beggar said. Meaning the seal of Data Sahib and of Baba Lal Shah.

In later life, that person became quite rich. People also respected him

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           

61. The riddle

 

Mkadk has not been able to solve this riddle

When You have so much, why You give so little

I have asked so little, for so long

Oh Lord, I don’t know what is wrong

Worldly gains are not what I want

Spiritual progress is the beggar’s cant

As a wise man from East once remarked

It is like getting from ocean dew drops

Few drops from a bountiful God

Ever generous or a miserly Lord

 

God replies

Does not matter when you want

But are you ready for the grant

Just length does not count

Only intent does not count

Everybody’s intent and effort are noted

In the end both are voted

Everybody gets his just reward

Something, if he has worked hard

This path has a guiding creed

Trained according to capacity and need

What you want, why are you doing this

Do you want fame, miracles or bliss

 

Or, on the other hand

Love of God bubbles from you, you cannot help yourself

Songs for Lord, erupt from you, you cannot help yourself

 

Mkadk again

Wise words did not soothe his rebellious heart

Years of pain and anguish had made him distraught

What he wanted was certitude

What he got were platitude

Not a word of acknowledgement during all those years

Not one spiritual occurrence to allay his fears

He said, how can I be sure

That this is God’s talk

And not my own thought

Tell me something

Show me something

Which reason cannot explain

Science cannot maintain

But others can also ascertain

Issues between mkadk and God

As of now remain unresolved

 

you can also see the videos by
----go to You Tube.com
----Then type mkadk or mkadk.afnta

 

 

 

60.  The Door

 

I knocked and knocked at Your door

I howled and rolled on the floor

I scratched the door, I rang the bell

Misery of my heart I wanted to tell

Mkadk stood there with bleeding hands, bleeding feet

Locked door, silent house, was there to greet

Nobody opened the door to the beggar’s cant

Nobody asked, who are you, what you want

 

If door had been opened by the mighty God

If I had only met the most noble Lord

I would have said ‘ oh Sire’

Grant me my two desire

Please talk to me once a while

Please move me forward once a while

 

God’s reply

God said, oh mortal, what you sought

Don’t you know you have already got

You want Me to speak and draw you near Me 

Be silent, be still, stop thoughts, you will hear Me 

I have guided you

I have helped you

I have talked to you

I have walked with you

 

You complain of no progress to show

You have made progress you don’t know

Don’t you think of God for a longer time

Can’t you focus on Lord for a longer time

Don’t you sometimes feel the light

Aren’t your sessions filled with delight

Progress is difficult to assess, try as one might

Ant climbing the hill does not know her height


you can also see the videos by
----go to You Tube.com
----Then type mkadk or mkadk.afnta

 

 

 

 

59. God please come close

 

Oh God

Dear God

Don’t go away, please stay

Without You, oh God

I lose my way

And go astray

 

Oh God, dear God

Have mercy on me

Don’t leave me by myself

Don’t leave me alone

Please God, please stay

 

Oh God, dear God

Please stay, please stay

Oh God for God sake please stay

Stay near, stay close

Don’t go far

Don’t go away

 

Make me Thy dwelling

Make me Thy abode

Stay in me, live in me

For an instant, or a lifetime

As you please

 

Before staying, dear God

Make me worthy of Thy stay

Change me with Thy grace

Let mkadk feel Your touch

on his unworthy face

you can also see the videos by
----go to You Tube.com
----Then type mkadk or mkadk.afnta