The Message of the Quran
Translated and Explained by Muhammad Asad (Formerly Leopold Weiss)

When studying the Quran, one frequently encounters what may be described as “key­- phrases” - that is to say, statements which provide a clear, concise indication of the idea underlying a particular passage or passages: for instance, the many references to the creation of man “out of dust” and “out of a drop of sperm”, pointing to the lowly biological origin of the human species; or the statement in the ninety-ninth surah (Az-Zalzalah) that on Resurrection Day “he who shall have done an atom’s weight of good, shall behold it; and he who shall have done an atom’s weight of evil, shall behold it” - indicating the ineluctable afterlife consequences of, and the responsibility for, all that man consciously does in this world; or the divine declaration (in 38:27), “We have not created heaven and earth and all that is between them without meaning and purpose (baatilan), as is the surmise of those who are bent on denying the truth.”

Instances of such Quranic key-phrases can be quoted almost ad infinitum, and in many varying formulations. But there is one fundamental statement in the Quran which occurs only once, and which may be qualified as “the key-phrase of all its key-phrases”: the statement in verse 3:7 to the effect that the Quran “contains messages that are clear in and by themselves (ayat-e-muhkamaat) as well as others that are allegorical (mutashabihaat)”. It is this verse which represents, in an absolute sense, a key to the understanding of the Qur’anic message and makes the whole of it accessible to “people who think” (li-qawmin yatafakkarUn). (more…)

A Poem by K.G. Sankarapillai

Dear Che

Dear Che,
you came to our university campus
in mid sixties
with a comrade and a modernist friend
with visuals of jungles past and present
with a vision of a new battle for justice.

Like a fresh wind of October
you joined us
moved us
renewed us
and smoothened our entry into history
with love, dreams and plans.

You told us about the sleeping rebel powers
of mountains and forests of the new minds;
quite often you talked of the day when
‘the Andes would become
the Sierra Maestra of America.’

Our modernist friend said:
you are the red star over the world
tarnished by America;
you are the future of the world
crippled by America;
you are the Jesus of the modern age
crucified by America.

Although you remained evergreen in us
showed us the exit to the oceans
from the lyrical ponds of our
post Independent Indian youth;
the exit to the storm from the water lily breeze
of our weeping romantic poems;
dear doctor, you redefined us
living with us
living for us
living in us
passing the confidence of torrents into our deserts
weaving sunlit paths into our prodigal nights.

You brought world into our words
and future into our past.
You opened blast-furnaces for our ore. (more…)

Herat Hami

A poem by Wimalaratne Kumaragame (a translation)

Herat Hami who lived in Aliya Watunu Wawe*1
Even someone like me was more important than him
Though Harat Hami cut dead bodies*2
He was twenty, thirty times more decent than me
In the hospital of Aliya Watunu Wawe
He spent his time removing night soil
Though he lived happily with a monthly salary
Whenever I saw him I was moved with sadness

A hard, wiry body, handsome and thin
Not much of age, fresh and young
No wife as yet
I was perplexed by the job he did

Making someone like me sad
Each day he carried my excrement
If someone dies suddenly
Doctor comes
He cut the dead bodies in front of us

None from the farmer, worker or elite caste
Ever did such a job
No known disease of mind he had
He did no harm to any dwellers of the forest

He spread a docile smile
Every word of his spread ahimsa
Every evening he drank burning water
His heart overflowed with kindness

His sister was stabbed
Recalling her my eyes get wet
He did not cry the day his sister died
When she had a fever he wailed with tears in his eyes

When his younger sister died he went with a doctor
Her dead body was cut by Herat Hami
Though the villagers blamed him in harsh words for this
He did not care much about the world’s violent flesh
As he was not born in a rich mansion
He went to the temple at every Poya
He was a member of the newly built stupa
Even more than that he respected Iyyenayaka*3

Translation by Basil Fernando (more…)

Amir Khusrau

I am a pagan (worshiper) of love: the creed (of Muslims) I do not need;
Every vein of mine has become (taut like a) wire; the (pagan) girdle I do not need.
Leave from my bedside, you ignorant physician!
The only cure for the patient of love is the sight of his beloved –
other than this no medicine does he need.
If there be no pilot on our ship, let there be none:
We have God in our midst: the pilot we do not need.
The people of the world say that Khusrau worships idols.
So I do, so I do; the people I do not need,
the world I do not need.

Last year, I came across a Charles Homer Haskins lecture that Dr Annemarie Schimmel delivered in 1993. Aside from the amazing events and milestones of her life, what struck me was her immersion in an infinite ‘learning’ cycle. I am reproducing some lines from the lecture and a dazzling poem of hers below. Dr Schimmel left this world in 2003 for another voyage. As an extra-ordinary scholar (over 150 publications to her credit), a Rumi disciple and an odd Sufi herself, the world is not the same place without her.

However, her erudite and passionate writings will continue to warm our hearts. Sang-i-Meel Publishers (http://www.sang-e-meel.com/) in Pakistan have done a huge favour by re-printing selected titles for the Pakistani audience. (more…)

An essay contributed by the celebrated singer,writer and spiritualist Vidya Rao

I often ask myself the question why I choose, above all things, to sing, and then to sing a traditional gayaki like thumri. The images that are gleaned from its poetic texts are so often open to misunderstand: pining nayikas, heartless piyas, rakish Krishnas, divine Rams. I ask myself that question again today when ‘tradition’ is in danger of being smothered by sectarianism, communal violence and a whole culture lies bleeding.
I turn to the music itself for my answer. It has never failed me before—it does not fail me now. (more…)

“I want to be surrounded by you.
I want to be enclosed.
I want to be enveloped.
I don’t have the words for it.
But do you’ understand?”

From “The Anatomy of Desire”
by John L’Heureux

“Main NeevaaN Mera Murshid Uccha…
Main UcchiyaaN naal sang laayee”

I am lowly my spiritual guide is lofty!
I have tied my fate to such lofty ones!

“Bulleh naaloN chullaah changaa
jis te ann pakaaee daa
ral faqeera majlas keetee
bhora bhora khaaee daa”

A stove is better than Bulleh
because at least you can cook food on it
Saints sit together to eat
and share their food with each other

“Bulleh Pi sharaab tey kha kabab,
par baal haddaan di ag,
Chooree kartay bhan ghar rab da,
ais thuggan de thug noo thug.”

O Bulleha, Drench yourself in wine and feast
ignite the fires flaming out of the bones.
stealing, break into the house of God
and swindle the cheat of cheats.

“Mulla tay mashaalchi dohaan ikko chit
Loukan karday chananan, aap anhairae vich”

Mullah and the torch-bearer, both from the same flock
Guiding others; themselves in the dark

Another translation of Faiz rendered by a Toronto based poet - Anis Zuberi. This is a timeless poem or nazm, aaj bazaar main pa ba jolan chalo has been translated and explained below. I am also posting a video that shows Faiz reciting the poem followed by a beautiful rendition by Nayyara Noor.

Aaj bazaar main pa ba jolan chalo

aaj bazaar main pa bajolan chalo
let us walk in bazaar in shackles

Chashm-e-nam, jaan-e-shoreeda kafi nahin
wet eyes and restless soul is not enough

Tohmat-e-ishq-posheeda kafi nahin
being charged for nurturing concealed love is not enough (more…)

Sana’i ! If you don’t find a friend, be your own
friend! In this world of every kind of man and every kind of
task, be a man for your own task!*
Each member of this caravan is stealing his own
baggage — place your own self behind and sit before your
baggage!
People sell ephemeral beauty and buy
ephemeral love — pass beyond those two dry riverbeds and be
your own river!
These friends of yours keep on pulling you by
the hand toward nonexistence — steal back your hand and be
your own helper!
These beauties painted on canvas veil the
beauties of the heart-lift up the veil and enter: Be with your
own Beloved!
Be with your own Beloved and be a well-thinking,
good man! Be more than two worlds — dwell in your own
domain!
Go, do not become drunk with the wine that
increase arrogance — behold the brightness of that Face and be
soberly aware of your own Self!

Rumi

Translation by William C. Chittick
“The Sufi Path of Love”
SUNY Press, Albany, 1983

* Rumi refers to Sana’i’s discussion of good and evil companions
in his Hadiqat al-haqiqat.

Source.

The legendary Sufi poet, Farid al-Din ‘Attar was born in Nishapur, in northeastern Iran, in 1142. He was beheaded by the invading Mongol army in 1221. His tomb at Shadyakh is visited by many. Rumi was also inspired by Attar. The best known work of Fariduddin Attar’s works is Manteq al-Tayr (Conference of the Birds)- Here is a synopsis of this work.

Led by the hoopoe, the birds of the world set forth in search of their king, Simurgh. Their quest takes them through seven valleys in the first of which a hundred difficulties assail them. They undergo many trials as they try to free themselves of what is precious to them and change their state. Once successful and filled with longing, they ask for wine to dull the effects of dogma, belief, and unbelief on their lives.

In the second valley, the birds give up reason for love and, with a thousand hearts to sacrifice, continue their quest for discovering the Simurgh.

The third valley confounds the birds, especially when they discover that their worldly knowledge has become completely useless and their understanding has become ambivalent. They cannot understand why both the mihrab and the idol lead to understanding. Devoid of their earthly measures, they lose their ability to distinguish right from wrong.

The fourth valley is introduced as the valley of detachment, i.e., detachment from desire to possess and the wish to discover. The birds begin to feel that they have become part of a universe that is detached from their physical recognizable reality. In their new world, the planets are as minute as sparks of dust and elephants are not distinguishable from ants.

It is not until they enter the fifth valley that they realize that unity and multiplicity are the same. And as they have become entities in a vacuum with no sense of eternity. More importantly, they realize that God is beyond unity, multiplicity, and eternity.

Stepping into the sixth valley, the birds become astonished at the beauty of the Beloved. Experiencing extreme sadness and dejection, they feel that they know nothing, understand nothing. They are not even aware of themselves.

Only thirty birds reach the abode of the Simurgh. But there is no Simurgh anywhere t o see. Simurgh’s chamberlain keeps them waiting for Simurgh long enough for the birds to figure out that they themselves are the si (thirty) murgh (bird). The seventh valley is the valley of depravation, forgetfulness, dumbness, deafness, and death. The present and future lives of the thirty successful birds become shadows chased by the celestial Sun. And themselves, lost in the Sea of His existence, are the Simurgh.

courtesy Zen Sufi who referred me to this site

S Irfan Habib in New Delhi

There has been a lot of noise about rethinking in Islam, particularly post September 11,2001. I feel it is long overdue and September 11 has just given us a rude shock to get into action. Within India, Godhra and the ensuing Gujarat carnage has added urgency to the question of rethinking, making us conscious of the fact that there is something seriously wrong somewhere. If September 11 and Godhra are the ugly faces of Islam than the burning of Graham Staines and his children and the ongoing Gujarat carnage is the depraved and distorted face of Hinduism. Both are threats to the secular and pluralist fabric of India.

Unfortunately Muslims and Hindus have allowed their respective faiths to be hijacked by the lunatic fringe, which appears to be calling most of the shots on their behalf. Pakistan is an apt example of this perversion in Islam while the Sangh Parivar is the mirror image of this aberration in India. The Islamic variety appears to be more threatening to world peace due to Islam’s multinational character and the diverse political problems involving these so called Islamic nations. However this does not mean that the sangh parivar’s machinations and hate filled campaign against its fellow citizens is a lesser danger to civil society. Striking terror and causing mayhem and misery among fellow human beings is nothing but terrorism. It is time to wake up and wrest control from those who have no qualms about vulgarization of their religion as long as it serves their sectarian agenda.

It is a known fact that Islam did not undergo any meaningful reform to cope with the challenges of modernity. Any serious attempt at ijtihad- a reasoned struggle and rethinking to reform Islam, has been countered by specious arguments saying Islam is beyond time and context thus any talk of rethinking is un-Islamic. This was seen during the 19th century when Syed Ahmed Khan, Jamaluddin Afghani, Mohammad Abduh and others gave a call for ijtihad. (more…)

BOOK REVIEW: Investigating the ‘China threat’ by Khaled Ahmed 

 The fact that Globalisation has been allowed to sink to the level of a darwinist race among the inward-looking developed economies and third world new aspirants, has imperilled the normal sanity of response

Will Hutton is a British writer, weekly columnist, a governor of London School of Economics, a former editor-in-chief for The Observer in London, and he fears that the US might extend its trigger-happy policies to its troubled economic and strategic relations with China. He thinks America and Britain are particularly vulnerable to this kind of recklessness after abandoning their historical commitment to the ideals of Enlightenment. He thinks China has pulled itself up as it was wont to do in history but is vulnerable to the pluralism its burgeoning economy would require in the days to come. He wants the West to wait for that internal development. (more…)

Cross-posted from drunkonink blog. Soniah Kamal’s thoughtful write-up is worth sharing here:

Saba Bhaumik’s opinion piece in Outlook India once again attempts to explain why Indians may not be madly in love with Arundhati Roy while the West supposedly is but Bhaumik doesn’t say anything that hasn’t already been said a million times: Indian males are envious coz Roy is smart, the women are confused by her outspokeness and, while Roy’s hair styles challenge beauty norms, her sense of style sets dressing trends. (more…)

By Intizar Husain

ONE fine morning under the programme of Sahitya Academy I found myself in Lucknow, and wondered if it was the Lucknow I had earnestly desired to get a glimpse of. When after partition Attiya Husain wrote her novel depicting the Lucknow of good old days, she chose to present it under the title Sunlight on the broken column. Now the broken column is very much there, but sunlight has long faded away. The novel had been dubbed as decadence by the maulvis, reformists and the progressives alike, and as a flourishing of fine arts and culture by the liberals. Prof Anis Ashfaq, who was kind enough to host me and sensing my keenness to have a glimpse of that sunshine, led me to Imambara Asifiya. What a splendid structure. One was left wondering at high, spacious roof with no columns to support it. The upper story has a bhoolbhulliyan, a maze. It provides added attraction to visitors. (more…)

Rest your cheek, for a moment,
on this drunken cheek.
Let me forget the war and cruelty inside myself.
I hold these silver coins in my hand;
give me Your wine of golden light. (more…)

The flames that dance with love -
O Beloved, be like that to me.
The burning heat within the fire -
O Beloved, be like that to me. (more…)