Eyelashes'
Broom
If for the sake of Beloved, you said, you did [1]
Grand! Whatsoever you said, Grand! Whatsoever you did
Why I am bothering with the scolding rocks of others hitting
my love
Whomsoever is a Majnoon recompensed by the crushing of the
skull [2]
How many more times telling the story of Job, enough! [3]
We have no more patience than this, that was Job not us
Would possibly Majnoon be a self-centered hypocrite towards
Leylie [4]
Lying amidst the need for messengers and love letters indeed
I know not where this love and affection comes from [5]
Just know this much, desire gravitates from the Beloved
Behold the phenomenon: Joseph in dungeons of Egypt
Feet chained in jail, but in the heart of Jacob he lives [6]
Haiti: [7]
How did the sorrow of eyelashes sieve the blood out of the
tears? [8]
Remember the day when the broom swept them out of someone’s
way!
[1] That day when Beloved loves you,
and no one has any say
on why the Majesty loves you and not someone else, that day no matter
what you
say, truth lies soft or harsh and no matter what you do, good evil wise
or
stupid… From that day on all you say and do shall turn into the best
grandest
results. As Araqi said, the bent of the bow shall make straight the
flight of
arrow i.e. even in our crookedness (bent of the bow) the end shall be
straight
and good (like a straight arrow’s flight). If you are a goody-two-shoes
person
fooling yourself believing that it is your false goodness bringing
about the love
of the Creator, you need to reconsider. Beloved loves you independent
of who
you are and what you do; there is no other truth. And under the shade
of that
love whatsoever you say and do, whether good or evil shall result in
blossoms of Allah’s love. And the fragrance of these blossoms shall
lure more
and more towards the Beloved to be loved. Even when you have ceased and
your
biological functions desisted still the fragrance of your love
bequeathed for
future generations.
[2] Majnoon and Leily were Arabs, though his real name was
Qays, and he lived in the Umayyad period. The story was given some of
its best expressions by Persian (and also Ottoman) poets, but they were
Arabs. The tragedy is similar to the western Romeo and Juliet. The poet
says why to bother listening to the critics of people around us, when
no matter who and what you love, the reward is nothing but your head
bashed like Majnoon. Save your energy instead of convincing people, for
better more loving.
[3] Prophet Job was a biblical prophet
who was stricken with
fatal ailment and poverty. Amongst the Muslims he is the symbol of
patience and
gratitude. Iranians have legends of this man being so sick that the
maggots
were eating him alive but never complained to Allah. Until Allah send
him a
spring to drink from and he was healed (Koran [38:42-44]. Allah gave
back to
him all his family plus more loved ones. In colloquial Farsi “Ayyub’s
patience”
is to mean being very patient (Ayyub is Arabic for Job).
[4] As Picasso once quoted a Spanish
proverb (1923):
“Love must be proved by facts
and not by reasons. What one
does counts and not what one had the intention of doing.”
I believe Wahshi says the
same. He tells us that intentions
of Majnoon judged by his actions i.e. love letters sent by messengers
paying
them monies and risking his life and what not. Had Majnoon been a liar
would he
do/continue that for years? No! He would not. He would have chased
another woman.
[5] Tell me! And tell me now! Why the
children in the
picture pulled towards the white American woman? Why does this affluent
woman
wasting her time with HIV infected poor children of Haiti
hated/forsaken by
most Americans and African Americans? Like Wahshi, I also do not know
the
answer. But I know, that pull of gravity is from Beloved the Creator of
all
things. Look at the emaciated arms of the kids on the bed like a magnet
pulling
towards another magnet (her). That pull is love and all we know about
that is
one thing: originates from Beloved.
[6] Ah! I want to write day in and day
out about this
phenomenon. My love gone forever, her feet have broken by the chains of
this
lowly word but she lives opulent in the palace of my heart. I do not
understand
where this love comes from, all I know is… it comes from the Beloved
The Majesty.
Just like Joseph this children
are kept in the prison of
hospital beds with bars, guards and AIDS as the executioner. But they,
for
real, live in the hearts of their dead parents and the woman in the
picture. I
am sure by now, where my pen writes with such mighty arrogance, these
children
are dead and gone but their beauty preserved, just like this
photograph, in the
hearts of people who love them.
What ‘pulled’ this white woman
to leave the comforts of her
life in US and go to this forsaken Haiti and nurse these children whom
will not
last that long any way? I do not know what pulled her, but I know the
source is
the Beloved and nothing else I know about this.
Prophet Jacob was the father
of Joseph. Both biblical
figures lived around Egypt. Joseph was in jail but his love was living
in the
heart of his father who was told of him being dead. You may read the entire
story here just click on this line…
[7] The word Wahshi, the name of the
poet, was replaced by
Haiti.
Funny they rhyme!
[8] Sufis cry blood for the Beloved.
But Wahshi sees
no blood in his tears because the eyelashes filtered them away or like
a broom
swept them. He goes further saying all these melancholy and sorrow
should be
balanced by this thought: You were and soon will be again dust on
someone’s
path swept away…
Background:
A volunteer
from the United States of America holds an HIV-infected
child at a centre run by the Missionaires de la Charité in
Port-au-Prince, Haiti.
©
2003-2002,
Dara Shayda
