Pīr -i Rūm,
Murīd-i Hindī
Lying in close
proximity, the dust from either corpse smells of the other.
It is as though the two with their spiritual bond – one which brought two souls
from across six centuries
of temporal separation together will be one for all times to come – the pīr -i
Rūm in unison with his Murīd-i Hindī in fulfillment of “… kas na
guyad ba‘d az īn, man dīgaram tū dīgarī”
(Nobody may say thereafter, I am one and you are another).
“The spirit of
Rūmī rent the veils asunder and appeared from behind a mountain. His face shone
like the sun; in his old age was the freshness of youth. Upon his lips was the
hidden secret of being, and he let flow out his words and sound. His speech was
like a suspended mirror and his knowledge in unison with the inner fire (Iqbāl
qtd. in Irfani 7).” Thus explains Muhammad Iqbāl the impact of Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī
on his own thought and work. For him, Rūmī was the pir (master) and
himself a murīd (disciple) at his service, a speck of dust yearning to
acquire the splendor of the sun and the moon.
It is astounding to note just how much Iqbāl’s work echoes with Rūmī’s voice and
the deep seated influence the pīr had on his murīd. It is as if
the dam (breath) in Iqbāl’s nay (reed flute) is from Rūmī, a case of “yak
dihān pinhān ast dar labhā’ay way (Rūmī 32).” (A mouth that speaks from his
mouth)
For Mawlānā
Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī, ‘ishq is the beat of life, the essence of existence
and the elixir of immortality. In Rūmī’s realm, ‘ishq is the highest form of
love; to him, the transient, sentimental attachment between men and women is not
worthy of being termed ‘ishq (Qaiser 58). Instead, for Mawlānā, ‘ishq is
strictly the yearning of the self to reunite with its source, God: “Choose the
love of that Living One who is everlasting, who gives thee to drink of the wine
that increases life. Choose the love of Him from whose love all the prophets
gained power and glory (Qaiser 59).”
Mawlānā calls
‘ishq the driving force behind man’s growth and evolution, an impulse which is
at work behind every action in one’s life (Qaiser 60). The fact that he begins
his Mathnawī-i Ma‘nawī by talking of the power of ‘ishq is indicative of the
high status he accorded to its might and power. He calls it the tabīb-i jumlah
‘illat hā’ay mā (the physician that cures all our illnesses) (Rūmī 33) and
aflātūn-o jālinūs-ie mā (The source of all our knowledge (literally: our Plato
and Galen)) (Rūmī 33). He rests in ‘ishq the power to elevate the earthly body
to the heavens and into the presence of the Divine. To him, an existence
deprived of the radiance of ‘ishq is the darkest of deaths:
Ātish ast in
bāng-i nay-u nīst bād
Har kih in
ātish nah dārad nīst bād (Rūmī 32)
(The lament of
the reed flute emanates from fire (of ‘ishq ); he who is without this fire has
met death.)
Iqbāl adapts
Rūmī’s concept of ‘ishq into his own work and makes it a central feature of it.
Indeed, doing justice to the mantle of discipleship he took up from his pīr , he
adds to this concept. In his Asrār-i Khudī, he describes ‘ishq as the passion to
realize one’s values and ideals (Qaiser 60). Further, in the Jāvīd Nāmah, he
writes:
‘ishq sultān
ast wa burhān-i mubīn
har dū ‘ālam
ishq ra zayr-i nagīn (Iqbāl qtd. in Qaiser 61).
(This world and
the hereafter bear testimony to the power of ‘ishq - its domain extends over
both worlds.)
Moreover, in a
breathtaking sequence of verses in his immortal poem Masjid-i Qartabah Iqbāl
glorifies ‘ishq as being the radiance of life, the “mainstay of Gabriel,” the
essence of Mustafa (sws) and a tempest so powerful that it diverts even the
merciless tempest of time (“Masjid-i Qartabah”).
The dichotomy
between ‘ishq and intellect is a distinct feature of both Rūmī’s and Iqbāl’s
poetry. Both poets acknowledge the importance of intellect recognizing it as one
of the most important factors in man’s development. In fact, Rūmī and Iqbāl both
appear to advocate a synthesis of intellect and ‘ishq and even call ‘ishq a
higher form of intellect. It is, however, intellect that is divorced from ‘ishq
that receives unequivocal condemnation in the works of both poets. Rūmī calls
this intellect an inspiration from Satan (Qaiser 77). For Iqbāl, where ‘ishq
produces marvels and miracles, mere intellect or ‘aql can only watch and gasp in
amazement. He describes ‘ishq as being Abraham’s (sws) inspiration and the
source of all his courage:
Bay khatar kūd
parā ātish-i namrūd mayn ‘ishq
Aql hay mahv-i
tamāshah-i lab-i bām abhī (Iqbāl qtd. in Qaiser 80)
While ‘ishq
(Abraham) jumped undaunted into Nimrod’s fire, ‘aql (mere intellect) could only
watch from afar.
In Iqbāl’s
realm, ‘aql is all worldly and utilitarian while ‘ishq epitomizes a lack of
greed and fearlessness and is therefore the real asset of a true believer who
bows to nobody except God (Qaiser 80). For Iqbāl, Rūmī was the quintessential
‘āshiq and he repeatedly refers to Mawlānā’s role in unveiling to him the
essence of ‘ishq :
Suhbat-i pīr -i
rūm say mujh pay huwa yih rāz fāsh
Lākh hakīm sar
ba jayb, ayk kalīm sar ba kaff (“Mir-e-Sipah,” lines 9-10)
(T’is I gleaned
from the master of Rūm, a single ‘āshiq is worth a million sages.)
Rūmī and Iqbāl,
both go to great lengths to emphasize the need for junbish (endeavor) in a
believer’s life while vehemently condemning inactivity and passiveness. For Rūmī:
Koshish-i
bīhūdah bih az khuftagī (Rūmī qtd. Qaiser 84)
([Even] a vain
struggle is better than lying motionless.)
To Rūmī, even
inherited wealth is a curse because gaining access to it entails no effort. He
describes how it does not remain sincere to its beneficiary who does not know
its true value because he never worked for it. The same thought appears to echo
in Iqbāl’s work who describes the son who lives on inherited wealth as being no
more than a beggar (Qaiser 85). To Iqbāl, endeavor is so essential to life that
majnūn, the proverbial lover must continue striving even after he finds company
with his beloved Laylā because for him inactivity and contentment will spell
death. He describes how in every serene stream rests the potential to become a
tempestuous river and therefore until that potential is realized, action and
effort is imperative (“Sultān Tipū ki Wasīyat,” lines 2-4). The impact Rūmī had
on Iqbāl in this regard becomes amply clear in Iqbāl’s pīr -u murīd where he
addresses Rūmī and asks him what the key to a respectable living is and Rūmī
tells him that the essence of life is in constantly being on the gallop like a
horse and not like a coffin which needs other people’s shoulders to carry its
burden (Iqbāl 14). It remains no secret thereafter that Iqbāl’s theory with
regards to action and endeavor was inspired in large part by Rūmī. He
acknowledges Rūmī’s influence when he says: “I came from the tavern intoxicated
without a sip from the cup, in the station of negation I was intoxicated with
affirmation. It is time that I make wine from Rūmī’s cellar available. I saw the
sages of Harem intoxicated in the courtyard of the church (Iqbāl qtd. in Qaiser
90)”. It is worth noticing at this point that Iqbāl rests in Rūmī’s poetry the
power to shatter the darkness of ignorance and bring people back to the right
path. It comes as no surprise then that Iqbāl chose none other than Rūmī to be
his pīr -u murshid (master). He even advises his readers to follow his lead in
making Rūmī their guide:
Zī asha‘ār-i Jalāl al-dīn Rūmi
Ba dīwār-i
harīm-i dil ba awīz
(By the verses
of Jalāl al-Dīn Rūmī, decorate the wall of your heart’s dwelling.) (Iqbāl qtd.
in Qaiser 91)
The concept of
faqr forms an integral part of mystical thought. The use of faqr in Mawlānā’s
work is in a strictly idiomatic sense and his concept of faqr stands out from
the faqr of other mystics in that it does not set material poverty as a
necessary condition for the state of faqr. Instead, here it refers to an
attitude where one is dispossessed of the desire for worldly wealth and embodies
moral purity (Qaiser 100). For Mawlānā, faqr is a characteristic of the
quintessential man. To Iqbāl, this concept of faqr was so inspiring that he
seems to have incorporated it into his work verbatim. Indeed he goes on to
acknowledge this when he says:
Za Rūmī gīr asrār-i faqīrī
Kih ān faqr ast
mihsūd-i amīrī
(Learn the
secrets of faqīrī from Rūmī for his faqr is the envy of riches.) (Iqbāl qtd. in
Qaiser 101)
Expounding on
this concept, he describes faqr as being indistinct from ‘ishq in that both
epitomize submission to the Beloved-God. He calls faqr the struggle for the
purity of heart and vision (Qaiser 103). He describes it as being the “kingdom
of the ahl-i dil” (passionate people) (“Masjid-i Qartabah,” lines 87-88). It is
worth noticing here that faqr for Rūmī and Iqbāl does in no way entail a
renunciation of life and society or an escape from the trials and tribulations
of life in any other way. In fact Rūmī describes the faqr characterized by
renunciation as being the misdirected faqr of Christian monks (Iqbāl 14).
Since faqr is
one of the most important aspects of mysticism, it is enlightening to realize
here that Rūmī and Iqbāl present through their respective works, a different
approach to mysticism where man does not turn his back to the world but lives in
it as a being which is continuously jostling for a deeper relation with God
through his interaction with His creation and people. Iqbāl even goes to the
extent of describing faqr that is characterized by reclusiveness and
renunciation as being the faqr of a kāfir (infidel). For him, “The passivity of
the ascetic is repugnant to the spirit of faqr (Iqbāl qtd. in Qaiser 112).” To
both Iqbāl and Rūmī, the ultimate goal of faqr is to become like Muhammad (sws)
and his companions. Iqbāl elucidates:
Dārā-u Sikandar
say wūh mard-i faqīr awlā.
Ho jis kī
faqīrī mayn bū’ay asadullāhī (“Jab,” lines 9-10)
(Superior is
his kingdom to that of the greatest of conquerors, he whose faqr reflects the
being of ‘Alī (rta))
The
predestination versus free will debate has for ages remained a central feature
of Islamic theological discourse. Rūmī in his capacity as a mantle bearer of
Islamic theology makes due mention of this debate in his poetry and gives his
own worthy view on the topic. In his work overall, he appears to adopt a golden
mean and does not favor either extreme. He believes that man though bound to an
extent by the forces of nature possesses free will nonetheless as well as the
ability to choose between right and wrong which is what makes him accountable to
God. He presents, in his work, a series of remarkable arguments refuting both
determinism and the notion of undetermined free will: “Determinism in the case
of free will is out of question for the soul without free will is not a soul (Rūmī
qtd. in Qaiser 36),” he says. Further:
Nay, (the
Divine) destiny is a fact and slave’s exertion is a fact; beware do not be blind
of one eye, like the tatterdemalion Iblīs (Satan). Can there ever be in my head
such a dilemma as this (namely): “Shall I walk on the sea or shall I fly aloft?”
(No), there is only this (kind of) vacillation (namely): “Shall I go to Mosul
for trade or shall I go to Babylon for (the study of) magic?” (Rūmī qtd. in
Qaiser 39)
Elaborating on
his own resolution of the matter – the golden mean, he writes: “The Prophets
said: “Yes: He hath created some qualities from which it is impossible to
withdraw one’s self. And He hath (also) created qualities (which are only)
accidental, so that a hated person becomes acceptable (Rūmī qtd. in Qaiser 39).”
Without delving
in dense philosophical jargon, Mawlānā appears to resolve the whole issue with
astounding ease. Not only do his arguments make a lot of sense but the use of
poetry and symbolism makes them easily comprehendible also. To Rūmī, none but
Satan is an advocate of determinism who attributes his original sin to God (Qaiser
42). It must also be borne in mind that Rūmī believes that one can only do true
justice to free will by developing one’s self and by striving to move from
one’s own disposition to the disposition of God. This struggle eventually leads
man to the pinnacle of existence which is when he becomes a true embodiment of
divine grace. It is then that he acquires complete free will. Iqbāl who
subscribes to Rūmī’s view on the matter describes this state of existence in the
following immortal verses:
Khudī ko kar
buland itnā kih har taqdīr say pahlay
Khudā banday
say khud pūchay batā tayrī razā kiyā hay (“Khirad,” lines 3-4)
(Elevate thy
self to a level where God’s decree becomes subject to thy will.)
The pīr ’s role
in elucidating this matter to his Murīd becomes obvious in another exchange
between the two in Iqbāl’s pīr -u Murīd where Mawlānā responds to Iqbāl’s
question about free will and predestination by saying: “Wings carry falcons to
the king, wings carry crows to the graveyard.” (Rūmī qtd. in Qaiser 47)
Here too,
Mawlānā presents his case in a most breath taking manner. Wings here symbolize
the constraints imposed by nature; that is, a falcon or a crow cannot choose
between having wings and not having them. In so far as having wings is
concerned, both are bound by predestination. However, in so far as the utility
of these wings is concerned, both possess free will. The falcons use them to
soar high towards God while the crows use them to dwell at low, mundane places.
Therefore, with the free will that they possess, both breeds decide on the type
of existence they want. It is this choice of existence which is a corollary of
free will what makes man, according to Mawlānā, accountable to God.
Mawlānā stands
out as being perhaps the biggest proponent of free will among mystical poets
(Dr. Khalīfah ‘Abd al-Hakīm qtd. in Qaiser 47). It was therefore logical in this
regard also that Iqbāl, a man who viewed action, struggle and endeavor as being
essential for any sort of existence should choose him to be his pīr -u murshid.
To Rūmī, the
soul represents the transcendental self whose origin and essence is God in that
it has no existence apart from the existence of God. Iqbāl who uses the word
khudī for this transcendental self, elucidates on this concept in the following,
impeccably rhymed verses of his Armaghān-i Hijāz:
Khudi rā az
wujūd-i haqq wujūdī
Khudā rā az namūd-i haqq namūdī
Nāmi dānam kih in tābindah guhar
Kujā būday agar
daryā nabūdi. (Iqbāl qtd. in Qaiser 8)
(The soul has
its existence in God, its appearance from God – where else could this splendid
pearl have manifested itself.)
The dilemma,
however, is that this soul, which in its essence is comparable to an infinitely
pure mirror of divine attributes, has rust struck on it as a result of the
interplay of the nafs (man’s baser self) and man’s base ego wherewith he gets
caught up in the process of trying to amass worldly fortune and repute. His
utmost purpose in life becomes seeking external, bodily adornment whilst turning
a blind eye towards development of his inner self. He loses sight of his
potential and transient, immaterial things become his raison d’être-the falcon
gives up its unbounded flight and audience with the Divine and settles in low
grounds. Rūmī alludes to this existence regularly throughout his work and calls
for an escape from this mundane state. He describes how the perfect man or the
Insān-i Kāmil epitomizes transcendence from this state through his submission to
the Divine. He is so engrossed in his love for the Divine that his whole
existence revolves around his effort to acquire a favorable disposition in the
sight of God. He loses his desire for worldly preeminence and his concern for
the norms of space and time. He becomes bi rang-u bi nishān (colorless and
formless) with regards to his corporeal existence-the drop of water acquires
subsistence in the infinitely vast Divine sea. Thereafter, the lover acts
through the Beloved – his actions become the actions of God. This state defines
Rūmī’s view on the mystical concepts of fanā and baqā. As Iqbāl describes:
To Rūmī, fāna
means the annihilation of those experiences which bar the revealing of the real
self. It is the cleansing of one’s consciousness from fictions, idols and
untruth and purifying the heart of greed, envy, jealousy, grief and anger so
that it regains its original quality of becoming mirror-like to reflect the
reality within it. Only after this state does the self reach the state of baqā (Iqbāl
qtd. in Qaiser 29).
Mawlānā
expounds on this state of being in the following verses: “Such a non-existent
one who hath gone from himself (become selfless) is the best of being and the
great (one among them). He hath passed away (fanā) in relation to (the passing
away of his attributes in) the Divine attributes, (but) in passing away (from
selfhood) he really hath the life everlasting (baqā).” (Qaiser 31)
It is important
to note here that Rūmī, in his definition of fanā and baqā, departs from the
conventional definitions of these two states. He does not regard it as being an
annihilation of the self but rather a substitution of baser human qualities with
grander, Divine qualities. For Mawlānā, the awliyā (saints) are in fact the
afrād-i kāmil (the perfect men) and he describes their virtues throughout his
work. It is about these people that he writes:
Dil farāz-i
arsh bāshad nay bah past (Iqbāl 16)
(The heart is
in the empyrean and nowhere else.)
He describes
them as being able to perform karāmāt (miracles); as being able to turn dust to
gold, infidelity to religion and even poison to honey. They have access to the
treasures of the empyrean and their hand in every affair is the hand of God.
Since they subsist in God, not even corporeal death can cause them to die.
In Iqbāl’s
realm, the mard-i qalandar embodies khudī in its quintessential form. He
transcends the limitations of time and space and breaks free from the shackles
of fear and uncertainty. He attains an existence epitomized by assurance,
courage and faqr. Iqbāl appears to draw from Rūmī in stating that no
annihilation can ever beset this perfect self and that the quintessential khudī
holds its own even in the state of fanā when it is faced with the very essence
of God. He writes: “It is not the goal of our journey to merge ourselves in His
ocean. If you catch hold of him, it is not fanā (extinction). It is impossible
for an ego to be absorbed in another ego. For the ego to be itself is its
perfection… The end of the ego’s quest is not emancipation from the limitations
of individuality; it is on the other hand, a more precise definition of it; (Qaiser
31)” and further: “That man alone is real who dares – dares to see God face to
face. No one can stand unshaken in His presence. And he who can, verily, he is
pure gold.” (Qaiser 31)
Iqbāl’s ideal
of the perfect man or the mard-i qalandar serves to expound on Rūmī’s insān-i
kāmil since the two are just different names for an existence that epitomizes
the complete self-the perfect khudī. For Iqbāl, the heart of the qalandar is no
less than God’s empyrean for it is here that God resides. He further writes:
The hand of God
is the hand of the perfect man, which is triumphant, effectual, resourceful
[and] skillful. [He possesses] the traits of both man and angel and the
attributes of the Lord; his heart, though carefree, is richer than the two
worlds. His expectations are few, his objectives are sublime; his style is
irresistible, his sight is captivating. [He’s] soft while conversing, passionate
while in action; be it the battlefield or a social gathering [he’s always] pious
and orderly. His faith is the focal point of Truth and the rest of the cosmos is
illusion, sorcery and unreal. He’s the destination of reason, he is the output
of love; he’s is the warmth of the assemblage in the circuit of the cosmos. (“Masjid-i
Qartabah,” lines 74-85)
As in other
parts of his work, Rūmī’s influence on this particular section of Iqbāl’s
thought is also well apparent.
Rūmī, with his
splendor, grandeur and magnificence was the glorious sun; Iqbāl, as it were, an
antechamber to it. Having firmly grounded most sections of his thought in Rūmī’s
work, Iqbāl, with his seemingly simpler, more orderly and at times more coherent
poetry (Qaiser 284), opens our way to not only an understanding of Rūmī but to
an active relationship with his message. He is the sāqī (cup bearer) where
Rūmī’s work is bādah-i khām (raw wine), the jurist where Rūmī’s message is
jurisprudence, the mirror where Rūmī’s poetry is Joseph, Rūmī where Rūmī’s
ecstasy is Shams.
wallahū a‘lam
bi al-thawāb
(And only God
knows best)
Works Cited
Irfānī, ‘Abd
al-Hamīd. The Sayings of Rūmī and Iqbāl. 2nd ed. Vol. 1. Lahore: Research
Society of Pakistan, 1986. Print.
Iqbāl,
Muhammad. pīr -u Murīd. Lahore: R.R Printers, 1988. Print.
“jab ‘shq sikhātā hay ādāb-i khudā gāhī.” Allāmah Iqbāl
Poetry. Web. 20 Apr. 2012. <http://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com/
2011/04/bal-e-jibril-054-jab-ishq-sikhata-hai.html>
“khirad mandūn say kiyā pūchūn kih mayrī ibtadā kiyā hay”
Allama Iqbal Poetry. Web. 20 Apr. 2012. <http://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com/2011/04/bal-e-jibril-053-kirad-mandon-se-kya.html>
“Masjid-i Qartabah.” All Poetry. Web. 22 Apr. 2012.
“Masjid-i
Qartabah.” Allama Iqbal Poetry. Web. 20 Apr. 2012. <http://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com/2011/04/bal-e-jibril-124-masjid-e-qurtaba.html>
“mīr-i-sipāh nā sāzā.” Allāmah Iqbāl Poetry. Web. 20 Apr.
2012. <http://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com/2011/04/bal-e-jibril-036-mir-e-sipah-na-saza.html>
Qaiser, Dr. Nazir. Rūmī’s Impact on Iqbāl’s Religious
Thought. 2nd ed. Vol. 1. Lahore: Iqbāl Academy Pakistan, 2004. Print.
Rūmī, Jalāl al-Dīn. Mathnawī-i Ma‘nawī. Vol. 1.
Lahore: Hāmid & Co, 1991. Print.
“Sultān Tīpū kī wasīyat.” Allāmah Iqbāl Poetry. Web.
20 Apr. 2012. <http://iqbalurdu.blogspot.com/2011/04/zarb-e-kaleem-078-sultan-tipu-ki.html>
Bibliography
(A list of
sources referred to in addition to the above)
Hassan, Riffat.
“Iqbāl’s Ideal Person and Rūmī’s Influence.”Allamaiqbal.com. Oct. 1983. Web. 23
Mar. 2012.
http://www.allamaiqbal.com/publications/journals/review/oct83/11.htm
Hussayn, Imrān Liāquat. Rūmī-u Iqbāl dar hikmat-i Qur’ān. 1st
ed. Karachi: Kafāyat Academy, 1986. Print.
Chughtā’ī,
Akram. pīr -u Rūmī-u Murīd-i Hindī. 1st ed. Vol. 1. Lahore: Sang-i Mīl 2004.
Print.
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