Gladdening Hearts

December 13, 2010

Salaam and Greetings of Peace

It is related that in the late 1970s, there was a young man from Southern California who was seeking spiritual knowledge. He had lived in communes and sought, as the young in every generation do, the answers to life in ancient wisdom and eternal truths. Perhaps partly because of this, he was also estranged from his wealthy and conservative father.

The young man decided to go to India to seek enlightenment and find a teacher, and while traveling a roundabout way through Iran, found himself in Tehran.  By fortune or fate, which is another way of saying by God’s will, one of the various people he met there was a darvish, who, upon learning of his desire for spiritual attainment, took him to the Nimatullahi Sufi khaniqh and introduced him to the Master, Dr. Javad Nurbakhsh.

The young man had heard of Sufism, but of course had never met a Sufi Master, especially one of such a loving nature and humor and strength of personality.  He spoke at length with the Master on several occasions, and after some consideration, became initiated. He afterwards spent some time in Tehran with Dr. Nurbakhsh, and happily considered that his spiritual quest for a teacher had been fulfilled. Eventually, he expressed his wish to go back to California, and the Master gave him permission, but also commanded that he reconcile with his father.

The young man, now on the Path of Love, knew that this was the right thing to do, and wanted to bring back a present for his parents. He decided on a Persian red and blue rug from city of Kerman (Kirman), because he had heard that their rugs were famous for their rich, blue color.  It was said that the blue of the sky in Kerman was the truest, most beautiful cerulean blue, because of the quality of the light there. Dr. Nurbakhsh, who was himself born there, was delighted to hear of it, and personally contacted Nimatullahi dervishes in Kerman who dealt in rugs, and arranged for the young man to purchase a high quality Kermani rug at a fair price.

Some time passed, and the young man, once again living in his parents house, received word that Dr. Nurbakhsh was arriving in Los Angeles to visit the just purchased khaniqah there. The young man was very happy to hear it, and his parents, to thank the Master for bringing back their prodigal son, invited Dr. Nurbakhsh and the dervishes traveling with him to tea on their arrival.

The Master was jet-lagged and very tired, but he accepted the invitation, and they made the long drive to the parent’s large and palatial home.

The father answered the door in shorts and a Polo shirt, and shook hands with the Master. “Hi! Glad to meet you!” he said, looking somewhat suspiciously at the foreign-looking gentleman and his entourage. The Master shook his hand warmly, and through an interpreter, expressed his thanks for the kind invitation. The dervishes, however, were nonplussed that this American man treated their Master so casually, instead of with the awe and respect they were used to, but the Master thought nothing of it, and just smiled and put them all at ease.

As tea was being served, out of the picture window overlooking the back deck, they watched the sun setting over the Pacific ocean. The slanted light was particularly lovely on the blue of the Kermani rug at their feet. The young man sat with the dervishes, smiling at his parents, who wholeheartedly thanked the Master for all he had done to bring them back together.

Finally, as they said their goodbyes, and the Master got into the car for the long ride back to the new khaniqah, he looked very tired after the long day, having used the last reserves of his energy for the ride to pay his respects to the young man’s parents. Some of the dervishes could not help but wonder why he went through so much trouble.

As if in answer, he suddenly said, “Alhamdulillah! We have gladdened one heart today. That is all that we do. We gladden hearts.”

And so it is.

 

Ya Haqq!


Master of the Jinn in India

October 13, 2010

Salaam and Greetings of Peace:

Mohammed Ali Vakil, a friend from the Sufi Comics blog, sent this photo of Master of the Jinn for sale in a bookstore in Bangalore, the third largest city in India :)

If you are in India and see Master of the Jinn for sale, please take a photo and send it to me at:  Irvingk1945 at gmail dot com.

I will post them on the Master of the Jinn Facebook group page :)

Ya Haqq!

PS:  You can also order the book in India directly from Hay House, the publisher, by clicking HERE.


Book Notes, a Review – Master of the Jinn

August 13, 2010

Salaam and Greetings of Peace:

New Review:

An intricate and excellent new review of Master of the Jinn has been added to its page on Amazon.com. You can read it in its entirety HERE.

Master of the Jinn in INDIA.

Alhamdulillah! Master of the Jinn will be published in India.

Ebooks:

Amazon.com has reported that it sold more Ebooks in 2010 than hardback books. I can see Ebooks also outselling paperbacks in the future, especially since the Kindle book reader has been discounted to $114.00. And Master of the Jinn has sold as many or more Kindle Ebooks than paperbacks in the last few months.

Ramadan Mubarak!

Ya Haqq!


The New Morn – A Father/Daughter Poem

January 27, 2008

Salaam and Greetings of Peace:

This poem by our dear Sister Priya in tribute to her father moved me to tears of love and joy, and I received her permission to share it with you:

_______

In Bengal, India daughters are very much loved and adored by their fathers. They are often lovingly called Maa [mother], as if the father is a little child, to be taken care of, scolded and loved by the tiny mother …
It is a unique relationship. I have tried to capture the mood …hope my readers like it and strengthen the bond with their lovely daughters.

The New Morn

She was sitting on the floor ,
with all her tiny cups n saucers ……..making tea.
” baba …..o…baba….again you are sleeping?
pouting her sweet lips two little hands tugging a sleeve of my shirt,
as i was dozing in the warm morning sun in my chair
with the newspaper in my hand.

‘taste the tea’ she commanded ..
tea made of muddy water…
pride in her eyes ,
sweat glistening on her forehead.
i pretended to sip the tea,
she was hovering like a mother hen over her only baby …..

‘hurry up baba we will go to the market’
excitedly my little Maa said.
i smiled …..
hand in hand we went to the garden.
she picked up lots of different leaves ,
pebbles and dust lovingly, to cook for her son….
in her small pots and pans.

”baba….oh …baba can’t you sit still?’
she was serving dust rice, pebble meat and leaves
vegetable on a plate taken from her mom’s treasure.

‘after lunch we will go to the seabeach ‘
now she was thinking of going out …
different coloured dirt and dust,
made a rainbow on her dress.

i smiled lovingly…my little precious …
sea is not far….
she ran against the wind … barefeet laughed n
giggled.
sat on my lap ..told me all her stories all made
up…
where the prince and the princess,
goblin and the wizard all became one.
curly hair covered the tired, angelic face…
tiny little fingers hold on to my hand.
my Maa is feeling sleepy.

as i hugged her in my bosom n looked afar,
the sun was slowly going down the horizon,
dusk is setting in,
a beautiful fragrance engulfing us.
another year passing by, slowly very slowly,
my little angel, my two year old daughter
will see a bright new morn tomorrow…..

– from Priya’s Shree Shrees blog, of Monday, December 31st, 2007

Ya Haqq!


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