Sufi Encounters: Sharing the Wisdom of Enlightened Sufis

PREFACE

I have known Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri for three decades, during which I have met him on different continents, but I feel as if I have known him for my whole lifetime. Although his mother tongue is Arabic and mine Persian, we both hail from a Persian background. The famous Shaykh ‘Abd Allah Ha’iri, one of the distinguished members of his family, was a close friend of my father and I have known many other members of the Haeri family. Like Shaykh Fadhlalla, I hail from a Shiite background and at the same time belong to the Shadhili Sufi lineage, which is primarily a Sunni tariqa. And, like Shaykh Fadhlalla, I was first educated in the sciences before turning to philosophy and Sufism. I have also, again, like him, been exiled in the West (and in his case later in South Africa) for the past few decades. When in his presence, I feel to be not only in the company of a spiritual brother, but in the presence of a family member. When I read in the present book his chapter on Iran, I felt sad that I was not able to be present there in his company. I wished so much that I could have been his tour guide in Nayshapur, Isfahan and so many other historical sites of my homeland.

The son of a distinguished family of religious scholars, Shaykh Fadhlalla was born and brought up in Karbala near the tomb of my ancestor, the third Shiite imam, Husayn ibn ‘Ali – upon whom be peace – on whose birthday I was born and after whom I was named. A brilliant child, Shaykh Fadhlalla studied in Iraq in the field of engineering and science and then turned to the field of business, in which he became very successful. In this matter there is a contrast between us for I have never had a gift for business administration and so went immediately into the field of scholarship and teaching upon finishing my doctoral studies at Harvard. But even then we were both seeking the same goal, which is the world of the Spirit, and so both ended up in the embrace of Sufism. Shaykh Fadhlalla also began to study the Islamic philosophical and Sufi traditions and, like myself, became a great admirer of Mulla Sadra.

The tumultuous events in Iraq and then Iran caused him to move to the West, as was also to be in my case. He became the master of his own Sufi order and established centres for the dissemination of knowledge of Islam and Sufism in several places in the Occident from Texas to London. He also began to spread spiritual teachings through writing while he devoted much energy and resources to the education of the young. After many years, he left the West – but not for back home. He settled in South Africa with a large group of his followers, continuing in this new setting his activities as a spiritual teacher, educator and philanthropist. May he continue to be a source of light and charity for many years to come.

A very important point that needs to be mentioned about Shaykh Fadhlalla, in this age of rampant modernism on the one hand and socalled fundamentalism on the other, is that he is completely orthodox and traditional on both the shari‘a and tariqa levels and at the same time a universalist who respects other authentic religions, a perspective that I share with him completely. At the present moment one sees in the Islamic world on one side modernists who are usually relativizers and want to change religion according to the tenets of modernism, and on the other side fundamentalists, who believe that only they possess the truth, being exclusivist and at the same time limited in their understanding of their own religion. And then there are some Sufis with a kind of Salafi tendency that prevents them from having the universalist perspective on revelation that is stated so majestically and so often in the Noble Quran. These days in the Islamic world, rare indeed are those who share the universality of an Ibn al-‘Arabi, a Rumi or a Djan-i-Djanan. Shaykh Fadhlalla is one of those rare Muslim contemporary masters who is both orthodox and universalist, possessing a trait that has drawn me so much to him over the years.

Sufi Encounters is a work that reflects these qualities. It is at once an autobiography, a didactic treatise and a literary opus full of wonderful translations of the words of earlier Sufis as well as his own poetry, which reveals his art as a poet. The book is not only about Sufism; it is also a Sufi book. The autobiographical parts reveal an exceptional life imbued by the Grace of God Who has provided the author the opportunity to see so much, to experience so many different aspects and parts of the contemporary world, to meet so many remarkable human beings, to visit so many holy places and to familiarize himself with so many works of a spiritual nature from both East and West. In reading the autobiographical section, one feels as if one is experiencing the life of the author and somehow sharing it with him.

The didactic teachings are interspersed within the text of the book. The author turns again and again from the account of his life experiences to the exposition of Sufi doctrines concerning the nature of God, the Universal Man, the cosmos and other important doctrinal teachings. Shaykh Fadhlalla provides expositions of even difficult doctrinal issues in a clear and simple language as only a master who has digested fully such knowledge could do.

The quotations from various Sufis from the width and breadth of the Islamic world are like an anthology of Sufi writings, especially poetry, interspersed throughout the book. They reveal the author’s deep knowledge of the Sufi tradition and of Sufi literature, especially in Arabic and Persian. His own poetry reveals how much he is part of this tradition himself.

Sufi Encounters is an important work for several reasons. It casts light upon the life of a man originally from Iraq and brought up in a traditional Muslim family but confronted by the modern world within which he searches for the Truth, giving up worldly life in order to find the Beloved. The book also reveals much about the present-day Islamic world, where, despite the tragedies that are to be seen everywhere, tradition and spirituality survive. The work is also a metaphysical and spiritual guide as well as a compendium of Sufi sayings and poems.

I pray that God grant Shaykh Fadhlalla a long life to continue his exceptional services to God and His creatures. May the effusion of his spiritual presence continue, damat barakatuhu.

Seyyed Hossein Nasr

Washington, DC

Muharram 1438 AH/September 2016 CE

INTRODUCTION

Some have said that the seed of Sufism was sown in the time of Adam, It germinated in the time of Noah, sprouted in the time of Abraham, developed in the time of Moses, reached maturity in the time of Jesus And produced pure wine in the time of Muhammad. Those who drank this wine lost themselves, Their soul then declared its victory Allahu Akbar. This is where truth lies.

Shams-i-Tabriz

The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him)¹ had taught, Die before you die. The Sufi sage retold this teaching to his disciples as, Lose your (lower) self and there will remain only the (higher) soul – Allah’s light within your heart. This is the purpose of human life.

Authentic religious teachings and spiritual practices lead the seeker past ordinary states of consciousness and experiences toward a new state of infinitude that is the source of the universe. In this state there is no duality or otherness – an indescribable Oneness: perfect, sacred and constant. When personal and conditioned consciousness yields to its root and essence – supreme consciousness – spiritual evolution is complete. This book is essentially about people who have disciplined their minds and conduct and have attained a high degree of awareness of inner light and pure consciousness.

The Prophet Muhammad taught that while you would never get to know the Truth through men, you would understand men through the light of Truth. After many encounters with acknowledged spiritual masters and sages, I realized the wisdom of this teaching. No one could give me the Truth or take it away. However, I knew that others may help me overcome my self-acquired barriers, false values and other mental veils. The fact is that there is nothing that is durable or eternal other than Truth itself. To experience this state, you need to switch off all thoughts and emotions and touch higher consciousness. Pure and boundless consciousness begins at the borderline between self and soul, or falsehood and truth. This ocean of Reality is beyond all notions of space and time.

The enlightened ones link the seen with the unseen; living in full awareness and self-accountability, while illumined by the presence of the perfect light of the One Reality – perfect integration.

Were it not for the ability of souls to wander in different arenas, progress for the seekers would not be realized. There is no distance between you and Him to be traversed, nor is there any severance between you and Him that you need to overcome in order to arrive.²

Ibn ‘Ata’ Allah

Human souls wander in the world of activities like horses being trained. Allah, Who is closer to us than closeness itself, has decreed that His Mercy and Light permeate all existences. We cannot improve on His Constant Presence and Mercy. The journey you imagine you are taking is simply to do with exploring the self and transcending it toward its source and origin – the soul. We are stimulated to increase in consciousness of Him by His Grace.

Sufism is the Islamic spiritual package which enables the serious seeker to understand the interconnectedness of all realities and their unity at both source and termination. Beams of energies and energetic entities, such as angels, radiate from that source and bring about multi-universes and countless levels of consciousness in creation.

Soul consciousness is the ultimate quest of intelligent human beings, who need a constant reference that sheds light upon ever-changing worldly dualities. A fulfilled personal life means the realization of eternal life – before and after the cycles of birth and death. It is the transformative declaration that there is no god but God (Reality) and all of creation depends upon this truth and realizes it to the degree of its potential.

The way of the enlightened Sufis is the practical application and outcome of original Islam, whose teachings were modified due to political reasons, cultural distractions and lower human tendencies. The transformative path of Islam was recast as a structured religion imbued with more fear than hope. Religions, like viruses, mutate, and whenever they focus excessively on the outer rules and regulations, mystic movements, like Sufism, rise from within them to redress imbalance. Judaism has the Kabbalists; Christianity the Gnostics and Rosicrucians, for example.

The Sufis I met over the years were all trying to live according to the Prophetic model of the universal being with consciousness spanning the whole range of the limited, discernible and what is concealed. There was a sense of presence in all of them and those who had a sense of humour directed it mostly at the uncertainties and constant changes in the world. Their outer courtesy was exemplary. The animal self had been contained due to reference to higher consciousness. This is what made them attractive, so people desired to be in their presence. They represented role models for those of us who want to live in a world that prepares us for what is after death.

I was fortunate that during my travels I had the opportunity to study and discuss Islam, the history of Muslims and Sufism with scholars and illumined beings in numerous locations and circumstances. I often questioned why the perfect, original teachings of Islam had not become the foundation for the life of Muslims over the centuries, despite adherence to the shari‘a (Islamic law or code of conduct, outward path) and sunna (customary practice and conduct of the Prophet Muhammad). It was upsetting to witness how the Muslims’ culture and way of life had lost its vitality and was going through a serious crisis. The challenge for me, as it is for other concerned Muslims today, is how to reconcile the perfection of the message of the Quran and the Muhammadi Way with the confused lives of Muslims, individually and collectively. Is this dichotomy due to their failure to live this message with sincerity? What had gone so wrong or why did it not go right?

There is loud talk that Muslims have disappeared from the earth’s face.

We ask you; did true Muslims exist anywhere in any place?

Your style of living is Christian, your culture that of the Hindus;

A Jew would be ashamed if he saw Muslims such as you.

You are Seyyeds as well as Mirzas, and you are Afghans –

You are all these, but tell us are you also Mussalmans?³

Muhammad Iqbal

There have been numerous reflections and comments, like those of the poet, philosopher and politician Allama Iqbal (1877–1938 CE), addressing the Muslims of India, on what scholars or committed Muslims see as the discrepancy between the ideal of Islam and the practice of the Muslims. A similar situation is observed also with other religions. There is a difference between looking at a map and following it correctly; hence the gap between the teachings of original Islam and Muslims’ life and conduct. To live a fulfilled life on earth we need to address the obvious needs of body, mind, self and heart – all within our conditioned consciousness. Constant effort and hope is needed to connect heart and soul with mind and self. The ultimate human purpose is to live and interact in the world of dualities, where everything that exists and everything we experience is in twos, with constant reference to the light of our soul’s unity. Humanity is not separate from divinity and we all yearn to experience this truth. Islam’s purpose is seen clearly within Sufism.

The way of the Sufi is to experience life and yet to remain above it; to live in the world and not let the world own him.⁴

Hazrat Inayat Khan

The Quran and the Prophetic traditions describe the link between the seen and unseen, human life on earth and the hereafter, and the inseparability between limited consciousness and full consciousness. The Sufis strive on this path to be transformed and awakened to a lasting illumined state. The purpose of life is to awaken to this truth and avoid fears and sorrows.

If I had known any science greater than Sufism, I would have gone to it, even on my hands or knees.

Imam Junayd

The following memoirs are a personal interpretation of aspects of Sufi teachings, the role Sufism has played historically and its relationship to the deen (religion, life-transaction between Allah and man). Family and friends had also encouraged me to write about my encounters with individual Sufis and people of light. Muneera as my co-author has worked on this manuscript from its beginning. Her considerable background research has enriched and framed my writings.

Initially, I was reluctant to recall the past and write retrospectively about these experiences. I had not kept diaries, as I always enjoyed living these experiences without interruptions of writing.

Few people today have had the time and opportunity to travel as I did in search of Reality. My passionate desire along the spiritual path led me to journey all over the world, meet people of knowledge, visit the shrines of great masters, and study the inspired works of bygone years. On some occasions I traversed a continent in order to spend an hour with an enlightened being. May these musings celebrate the lives of those beings I had the privilege to meet over the years and shed some light on questions that commonly perplex seekers on the path.

Today’s global upheavals and ignorant misinterpretations of religion, which have produced barbaric behaviour and injustice, encouraged me to weave this tapestry of my inner quest. Born into a family of traditional Shiite ‘ulama, a Hindu master guided my first steps toward a spiritual path and sent me to find the Sufis. A Sunni shaykh of Scottish origin then became my teacher. The North African Shadhilis became my first point of reference on the Sufi path, permission from masters of the Chishti and Rifa‘i orders followed. I was a reluctant teacher, as I could feel the onslaughts of outer discords and religious differences will overshadow the real quest for awakening to the divine light within the heart.

These are subjective recollections of past events, encounters and teachings that touched my heart and explained various key issues of concern, as we progress to our destiny in life. These writings do not claim to be either an academic or inclusive work on the history or practices of Sufism. Translations from Arabic or Farsi, unless otherwise stated, are mainly my own. A chapter on Sufis and Mahdis in jihad was written in response to current interest in this issue. The chapter on female Sufis celebrates the important role women, starting with my mother, Bibi Fadhila, have played in my life, as family members and pupils. It also expresses my belief that, had the teachings of Islam been truly honoured, the position of women in the Muslim world would have been very different.

Sufi Encounters is a companion work to Son of Karbala, my earlier autobiography. Some of the illumined beings mentioned in Sufi Encounters are also referred to in Son of Karbala; in Sufi Encounters there is more emphasis on the history and teachings of Sufism, with particular reference to a few well-known tariqas (Sufi paths or orders) which I have been associated with or exposed to.

The human make-up contains personal subjective conditioned consciousness, as well as a higher dimension, so the foundation of spiritual growth can be seen as having less concern about personal and material needs and more focus on durable values and the purpose of life. The Sufi objective throughout the ages has been to move from self-concern to soul awareness. This shift can only occur as a result of numerous incremental changes. The Sufis in this book all made deliberate and wilful changes in perceptions, viewpoints and attitudes in their quest for enlightenment. The way they expressed themselves or conveyed their message was subject to their own station and the overriding culture and language of their day. All awakened beings have realized the same Truth – the sacred Oneness – that envelops and regulates the entire universe. Enlightened beings see every aspect of duality as a natural veil of cover upon absolute unity. Our relative life on earth is an introduction to experiencing perpetual life free from space and time limitations. However, if taken out of context, their sayings can be misinterpreted and the clarity of their revelations clouded. It is important to remember as you peruse these pages that their outer differences belie their inner sameness.

The Sufis were the guardians of transformative Islam but many of the traditional practices, in particular the teacher/pupil relationship, will have to adapt to accommodate the massive societal changes of the past 100 or so years. We must live according to our times and pursue our desired destiny in the clear understanding of our cultural limitations and potential. The primal maps that govern existence show clearly our drive toward higher consciousness and the discovery of our sacred origin. The ultimate desirable state is to live our humanity with cheerful acceptance, while in constant unison with the light of divinity which is the ever-living force which energizes all existence.

Chapter 1

EARLY STEPS

Nothing comes to you from anyone; nothing comes from you to anyone; everything comes from you to you.

Khwaja Abdullah Ansari

I was born in Karbala, Iraq, in 1937, on the day of the birth of Imam Hussein, to a family of distinguished Shiite ‘ulama (those trained in the religious sciences). Karbala had its own special blend of Iraqi/Iranian culture plus a nomadic Arab element with its particular concept of honour. I grew up speaking Arabic and Farsi, respected and felt equally at ease with either culture, coming as I did from both.

My father’s grandfather, Shaykh Zayn al-‘Abideen, had moved to Najaf and Karbala from Mazanderan, a province of Iran. Khursheed, his wife’s family, was also from that area. Shaykh Zayn al-‘Abideen’s family had originated from Shirvan in present-day Azerbaijan but had moved to Mazanderan in the early 1800s following a Russian invasion, which brought much change and upheaval.

My mother was Arab, from a Seyyed (denotes males accepted as descendants of the Prophet through his grandsons, Hasan and Hussein) family with Turkoman blood on my grandmother’s side. She came from the Bani Asad (Sons of the Lion), a prominent Arab tribe. It was tribesmen from the Bani Asad who buried the martyred body of Imam Hussein.

My religious education followed the traditional pattern of an elite, scholarly Shiite Muslim household. Islam was simply a way of life and conduct, and its heritage and beliefs the foundation upon which society was built. As a child I loved reciting the Quran, enjoying the reverberations of the sounds within my head and breast. I recall my anguished crying when I wanted to offer salat (ritual prayer) aged three and was unable to do it properly.

The city of Karbala was a favoured destination for numerous dervishes (followers of Sufism). They came from different regions in the Islamic world such as Turkey, Central Asia, Iran, the Arab world, North Africa and elsewhere. They belonged to different Sufi orders, each with distinct cultures and practices. The majority of them were practicing Muslims and shari‘a adherents. There was noticeable respect and courtesy amongst them.

There were always amongst them a few colourful dervishes, ascetics and other types of mystics. It was quite natural for me to connect traditional Islam with dhikr (invocation, remembrance of Allah), chanting and other esoteric practices. I was sometimes drawn to the more eccentric Sufis, who preferred isolation and a reflective life to public acclaim or leadership. For me, at that young age, an acceptance of fate and the unseen was a natural, everyday norm.

The only close family member with a connection to Sufism was my great-uncle, Shaykh Abdullah Haeri Mazanderani. He became a Sufi as a result of his encounter with Mullah Sultan, a great Sufi master, from Gonabad in northeastern Iran.

Some of the Sufi brotherhoods were considered by both the Sunni and the Shiite orthodoxy to have diverged from aspects of traditional Islamic teaching, often provoking opposition to them. Sufism had been regarded with suspicion by the Shiite ‘ulama since the Safavid period, when Twelve Imam Shiism was adopted as the state religion of Persia. Ironically, the first Safavid ruler, Shah Ismail, was himself the head of a Sufi sect, but the Shiite Arab ‘ulama he brought into Persia from the Levant to educate a largely Sunni population were generally opposed to Sufism. Over the years the Persian people developed a negative connotation with Sufism, considering it to be outside mainstream Islam and full of superstitious practices. In Persia, the study of tasawwuf (Sufism) became known as ‘irfan (gnosis, enlightenment) to distinguish it from the Sufism practiced in the Sunni world. Persian tariqas existed but were not in the public eye, and when any of the ‘ulama took an interest in ‘irfan, they did so discreetly.

Initially, Shaykh Abdullah had avoided meeting Mullah Sultan for these reasons. Their first encounter came when Shaykh Abdullah was returning from the public baths and saw Mullah Sultan in the street but continued walking on and did not greet the Sufi master. Mullah Sultan called after him, I know that you will finally come to me.

This eventually came to pass, for Shaykh Abdullah left Karbala, gave up his formal religious status and devoted the rest of his life to the Sufi path. In time, he became an acknowledged Sufi shaykh of one of the Gonabadi orders with pupils of his own. For many years he was estranged from most of his family, particularly his elder brother, Shaykh Muhammad Hussein, who was my grandfather.

My father, Shaykh Ahmad, had a deep affection for his uncle and was eventually able to reconcile his own father, Shaykh Muhammad Hussein, with Shaykh Abdullah. When the two brothers finally met, Shaykh Muhammad Hussein realized that a man who upholds the shari‘a or outer boundaries, like himself, was ultimately at the same altar of worship as the man who upholds haqiqa (Truth, inner reality) or inner boundlessness. I could well imagine Shaykh Abdullah saying that tasawwuf or ‘irfan is the original Muhammadi Way but, due to cultural diversity and the emergence of dubious sects, the real Sufis remained a minority. They can be described as those who combine the notion of living well in this world in preparation for the hereafter. Whenever my father told this story he would give a joyful sigh of relief, acknowledging the unity of the outer and inner or seen and unseen – tawhid (oneness)!

My childhood exposure to Sufism, or what I call now transformative Islam, and to numerous enlightened people from different cultural backgrounds, prepared me in later years to explore past and contemporary Sufi life. But it was not until I was 40 years of age that I was to follow in the footsteps of my great-uncle, Shaykh Abdullah.

As a 16-year-old, I had won a government scholarship to study science (physics, chemistry and mathematics) in the United Kingdom. The years that followed exposed me to a very different world from the traditional milieu in which I had been raised. My emphasis was on personal excellence, first as a student, then as an engineer for the Iraqi Petroleum Company, and later as a businessman in the Middle East. During those years I was plunged into a Western business arena whose priorities and values were dramatically different to the world of my childhood.

This period was largely dedicated to the development of life skills, but there was a meeting of hearts and minds with the Irish writer Anthony C West, which enabled me to reflect on the contrasts between the Godcentric world I had come from and the Western materialism that now confronted me. He was the author of a much-acclaimed novel called River’s End and had devoted his life to literary pursuits. He was also something of a philosopher and during the long walks we enjoyed together on the Welsh beaches he would talk about the unifying field that permeates this world and its play as it manifests. Anthony was able to reassure me of the correctness of my basic childhood upbringing, which was the fruit of a living faith, not mere ritual or superstition.

Allah was, and there was nothing beside Him, and He is now as He was.⁵

Ibn ‘Ata’ Allah

Allah is the Unique, Absolute Truth and the Essence of all creations, known and unknown. He is totally independent of all existential creations and realities, and yet everything in existence is dependent upon Him, connected to Him and acts according to His Decrees. He was the Unique, Independent, Absolute and Self-reliant and continues to be the same. Allah is the creator of time and space and is thus the First, and the Last. He is both Evident and Unseen.

During these walks we would talk about ethics, morality, the purpose of life and different religions. Anthony regarded them all as having the same essence and purpose, although he believed that contemporary Christianity had lost its original spiritual impetus. I, too, had felt the spiritual barrenness of Western society but had to admit that the traditional way of life in the East was also no longer sustainable. A culture that had existed for hundreds of years with minimal change and protected from outside influences was now facing the rapid onslaught of the modern world. The people of the East would be forced to adapt to a new lifestyle with global consciousness.

My father was to pass away while I was still studying in the UK. I was barely 20 years old. He was a remarkable, enlightened being whose knowledge and wisdom was respected by all. Shaykh Ahmad was an ‘alim (one trained in the religious sciences), as well as an accomplished alchemist, as were his father and grandfather before him. He once explained to me that the alchemical process is to turn a base metal into a higher one, from lead to gold, from an unstable and confused state to noble, beautiful gold. Its pursuit enables the seeker to experience how time and the timeless are related; how thousands of years can be shrunk by accelerating the natural process. It is, thus, a spiritual exercise, reflecting the quality of the practitioner’s state and the people who want to turn metals into gold for material gains will not succeed. My mother told me that just before Shaykh Ahmad stopped his alchemy, she had seen some of his rings, which had originally been silver, turn gold in colour. He had then stopped wearing them.

Shaykh Ahmad died on New Year’s Eve, 1957, having shown no sign of illness during the day. After the sunset prayers he retired to his bedroom, saying he was feeling a little weak. At midnight he collapsed on the veranda just outside his room. Bibi Fadhila, my mother, stayed with him as my brother, Fadhil, rushed to call the doctor. When he returned my father was still lying on the veranda. It was a cold winter night and the doctor recommended they take him inside. As my brother tried to move him, Shaykh Ahmad turned to him with a serene smile on his face and calmly said, There is no point, it is complete.

You ask me the marks of a man of faith?

When death comes to him, he has a smile on his lips.

Muhammad Iqbal

There were a number of indications that Shaykh Ahmad foresaw his own death. The day before he had given Baba Mahmood, his manservant, a list of shops where accounts were to be settled. In all the years Baba worked for him, he had never settled all his accounts at the same time. Some time before his death, he had been tending to his favourite orange tree, which adorned the courtyard, standing at the centre of a ring of trees. Try as he might to revive it, the old orange tree had become weak and barren. As he pruned and watered it, he turned to his daughter, Fodhla, who was standing by his side and said, It is a sign.

A few weeks before, he had taken my brother Fadhil on a trip by horsedrawn carriage half an hour into the desert. When the carriage was well beyond the sprawling public cemetery, he pointed out a place and said this was where he wanted to be buried. He told Fadhil that he had already shown the undertaker the exact spot. It was considered a strange place for Shaykh Ahmad to want to be laid to rest as the family had a handsome mausoleum at the entrance to the shrine of Imam Hussein, which was own to the local population. It was a matter of great prestige to be buried close to the tomb of Imam Hussein. There were two other private mausoleums next to the shrine but with the shrine’s expansion they had already been incorporated into the public areas.

On the day of his funeral, Karbala closed down. Thousands came from all over – religious leaders, tribal chiefs, government officials and the king’s representative, as well as merchants, shop owners and street vendors.

He was deeply loved and respected by all. For 40 days, the traditional mourning period, relatives came to the family’s house dressed in black and Quranic recitation reverberated through the rooms.

I returned to Iraq a year after he died and wanted to go alone and visit his grave, but when I got there I found a new cemetery had sprung up around where he was buried. There were so many graves that I could not find his. I had to go back to town to get Baba Mahmood to guide me. At the time of his burial not a single grave in that area had been dug. The people obviously felt something special about the place that such a man wished to be buried there. In fact, next to his grave, a water spring had come up. Until recently it was known as the fountain of Ahmad in his honour.

My father left this world with complete ease and readiness. He had settled his accounts outwardly and inwardly. He had acted appropriately in whatever he did, always faithful and cheerful to the needs of the moment with reference to the divine. His memory has always remained with me as a source of inspiration. I would recall how I used to walk behind Shaykh Ahmad in the late afternoon, as he did some maintenance work around the house. As a boy I would help him plaster walls, mix the gypsum and knock in nails. It always gave me a great sense of pride to be my father’s apprentice.

Shaykh Ahmad had encouraged me to take the government scholarship and study modern science abroad. In retrospect, I always felt that he realized the changes that would take place with the passing of a way of life that had gone on for centuries. He knew that for me to flourish both in the inner and outer I had to go out into a wider world.

INEVITABLE EXIT

Time has come to bid farewell

To the mulberry tree,

For time has come to embark

On the journey to meet destiny.

Back again, riding the sea,

Lost in the ocean,

Following the chart of devotion

With constantly changing undercurrents

Uncertain about the direction

Except at sunrise,

Then at sunset

And in between a practice

Of being diligent and acting wise

From morning to evening

From evening to dawn

Leaving behind

The orchard

And the birds

And the secret whisper of

The mountain breeze

And all other comforts

That make life smooth and bring ease.

Life is indifferent

To human experience

For its only concern

Is the disposal of time

In confined space

With an exit called death

To a new life beyond change,

Where the mulberry tree is ever in fruit

And Divine Love is never in dispute.⁶

Shaykh Fadhlalla Haeri

In the years that followed my father’s passing, Seyyed Hussein Dallal, a family friend, was a great support to us all. He came from a prominent tribal family from Hillah in central Iraq, where ancient Babylon was. Hillah is also not far from Karbala. Hussein moved amongst the scholarly ‘ulama, as well as in senior government circles, due to his own credentials. He was a respected lawyer who only took on cases where he felt there was injustice and wouldn’t charge for his services. Seyyed Hussein had a bedroom in a modest, old-fashioned hotel in Baghdad near the River Tigris, in the area where all the bookshops and libraries were located. It was a small room with a steel bed, underneath which lay a small suitcase containing all of his belongings. There was no closet or