[Tariqas] Re: Zekr excerpt from Master of the Jinn: A Sufi Novel

[IrvingK57 at aol.com]

Salaam Sufi  Brothers and Sisters: 
Here is an excerpt from  Master of the Jinn that deals with zekr  after the 
initiation of Rebecca, one of the characters in the book.  I hope you enjoy it. 
 
Ya  Haqq,    - Irving 
THE ZEKR 
I then led her to a quiet corner, to sit and repeat her zekr until  the 
Master appeared. 
This is the time of mohasebeh, the balancing of accounts.  As it is written 
in the Koran: “And  verily, whether you manifest what is within you or keep it 
hidden, God will  call you to account for it.”  Thus we struggle to eliminate 
the selfish and petty deceits of the ego  from our thoughts and deeds, and to 
balance God’s gifts with our  service. 
After ten or fifteen minutes the Master came down and joined us.  All stood 
as he seated himself on the  sheepskin rug, and then sat at his command.  He 
indicated that Rebecca should sit at  his right hand, the Professor and Captain 
Simach next to her, and I on his  left.  Ali and Rami sat to my  left.  When 
all were seated and  settled, tea was immediately served to him. He sipped it 
out of courtesy, and  then began to speak: 
“O darvish!” he said, his piercing glance encompassing all within  the 
circle.  “When God created  mankind, all of them claimed to love Him, so He created 
the pleasures of the  world, and nine-tenths of them immediately deserted 
Him, and there remained but  one-tenth.  Then God created the  glory of paradise, 
and nine-tenths again deserted Him, and only one-tenth of the  tenth 
remained.  And then He imposed  upon those that were left one particle of affliction, 
and nine-tenths of these  also fled from Him.” 
The Master paused to light his pipe, sighing with the exhalation of the  
smoke.  “Such is the lot of  humanity,” he said, “torn between pleasure, hope, 
and despair.  Yet those that remained, that tenth of a  tenth of a tenth, are 
the Elect.  They did not desire the world, nor seek after paradise, nor flee 
from  suffering.  It was God alone they  desired, and though there is imposed on 
them such suffering and terror that even  the mountains tremble, they do not 
abandon their love and devotion.  They are indeed God’s servants and true  
lovers.” 
Many tears answered his words, and he went on: “To follow the path of  Love 
is indeed to be a servant, to Him and to your fellow creatures, so they may  
also find their way. Thus came the word of God’s Mercy into the heart of  Dhu’
l-Nun the Egyptian, as it was related long ago. 
“And God said unto him: ‘If there come to you one  sick through separation 
from Me, heal him, or a fugitive from Me, seek him out,  or afraid of Me, then 
reassure him, or wishing union with Me, then show him  favor, or seeking to 
approach Me, encourage him, or despairing of My grace, help  him, or hoping for 
My loving-kindness, give him good news, or with right  thoughts of Me, then 
welcome him, or seeking to know My attributes, guide  him.  And if one who is 
injured asks  help of you, give it to him, but if he is doing evil in despite of 
 loving-kindness, then remonstrate him, or if he is forgetful of it, then 
remind  him, and if he goes astray, search for him.  For you have I predestined 
for My work,  and you have I appointed for My service.” 
The words filled our hearts to bursting, and burn in my memory even  now.  
Never had I heard such power  in the Master, nor his voice so moving.  Many 
cried Allah! Allah! and wept openly in supplication and  gratitude. 
Professor Freeman held his daughter as she wept, and his own eyes were  
brimmed with tears.  Captain Simach,  though, was the greatest surprise.  His face 
and arms were lifted skyward, as if he were beseeching heaven,  and he seemed 
to be speaking though no sound uttered from his moving lips; and  his face was 
contorted as if he were in great pain.  The Master leaned past Rebecca and  
Professor Freeman and touched the young man’s shoulder. His hands immediately  
fell back into his lap, and he bowed his head and was still.  
Even as I wondered at this, the Master raised his right hand and the  cries 
and weeping subsided.  He  called for music, and this night Ali’s ney was 
joined by Rami’s  tar, and many others held dafs.  One of the older darvishes even  
brought out an ancient tombeck, a small barrel-like drum made of mulberry  
wood and goatskin, which is held under the arm. 
The ney began to sing it’s longing, and the strings of the tar  softly twined 
its hope around each phrase.  Soon the rhythm of the dafs became faster, and 
voices were raised  to the beat of many clapping hands. 
They sang one of the Master’s poems: 
Hear, O darvish, the song of Love 
the unending tale of the heart. 
God whispers “Be!” and infinity 
takes eternal flight. 
Love commands the darkness to depart, 
and the world to arise in light. 
Mountains, seas and stars bear witness, 
The east wind cries out on the wing. 
La Illaha illa Allah, 
O Sufi, the universe sings. 
Forgive the clumsy rhyme of my translation; the original is more elegant  by 
far.  What is lost, however, may  be heard in the drums and clapping hands and 
every voice raised in the driving  harmony, repeating the shahada, the 
bearing of witness, that La Illaha  illa Allah: There is no God, but God. 
Ney and tar were stilled as the rhythm of drums and hands  and voices went on 
and on, until the very walls shook with it, and every heart  beat to it, and 
each cell of the body sang in joy and remembrance and  longing: 
La Illaha illa Allah! La Illaha illa  Allah! 
Ten minutes went by, twenty, thirty, until throats were raw and hands  were 
swollen, and tears mingled with the blood of the heart. At last, the Master  
raised his hand and the drums abruptly stopped on the last  beat. 
The shouts died slowly away, but many wept and their sobs mingled with  the 
moans of those who had been overcome and were being  revived. 
In the first instant of silence the Master calmly lit his pipe and began  to 
speak. 
“Why do you weep and tremble so?” he asked.  “For what reason do you moan 
and  sigh?” 
“Allah!” many shouted. 
“Indeed!” the Master replied.  “God alone is the ultimate source of the heart
’s joy and sorrow, both the  pain and the cure.  The soul  remembers this as 
a drop remembers the sea, and so longs the more for that  Ultimate Union.  All 
you will learn  on the path is but a reflection of that truth, for all true 
knowledge is  remembrance.  Thus we polish the  heart with tears, that it may 
reflect only the light of His mercy and  compassion."
 
>From Master of the Jinn: A Sufi  Novel.
For an excerpt of the first  two chapters and reader's comments, go to: 
_www.masterofthejinn.com_ (http://www.masterofthejinn.com/) 


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