The disconnect of fire

How goes the desire through the thrush of things now when the tide is ready to succumb
to the unruly, the unkempt, the unwished for unholyness? Will the flame be tempered by
the iron laws of matter or will it be madness? How goes this ascetic dance, this call of
conscience fired up by seeds of the unknown reveling in a confidence that does not become
the calm sea but more so the torrent which the sea beckons? Does the sea indeed beckon
this torrent or is a mere fleck of disconnection, disorientation that misguides as it continues?

The shores of error

The shores of error will dictate a norm, a way of
particularizing, and a train of hope nevertheless

The broken is on the mend in so many ways that
when joy stumbles on its home, it seems amused

The repair work takes little time takes a long time
takes however long it damn well chooses to take

Things stand in need of fixing more now than ever
before, and time is not in the habit of standing still.

the allegory

The allegory can be many points of light or it can just meander away
but even if does, it meets the iron laws here and there and ‘so much
for meandering’ it goes. Meanwhile the points of light will coagulate
to form inhospitable shards of character, and something of the one
will begin to show, and the meandering too will join in after having
made peace with the iron laws; they are more hospitable now, the
coagulated points of light upon having coagulated; such is the story.

granules of distance

Now that you have eked out the granules of distance, you seek to shrink the gaps as day wears on. The terms of distance and of union have been set anew. The pace has to vary, the rhythm adapt.

The play is adamant, the music threefold, and the arbitrary divisions that were brought in to be retrofitted are sitting it out,

watching at a distance where the cougar owes no courtesy, the
grass blows in batches, and the famine gets soothed in the rain.

The dogged hounding of abstract joy

The dogged hounding of abstract joy will make you pause
and go. The rhythm is not as obvious but it is as sure.

It grounds the divine. Concrete meets abstract. The relen-
tless pursuing of that whisper going off on a tangent then

coming back to master syllable. Master syllable meets miss
syllable. It is wrong to think otherwise; wrong to dismiss it.

remembrance

In the absence of
the very presence, absolute in perpendicular shafts
angled by necessity
gives merriment pause
and absence cause
to remember

the small small is not to be taken lightly
shunning ornament, it is bereft of the steel that compels drama to persevere in spite of the ground being hollow
no, the ground cannot afford to be hollow
something creeps in to fill the void and the absence of
gives way to the perpendicular shafts and there is
remembrance.

Lesser known mystics of South Asia – III

Abu Tukh Al Malanga

Abu Tukh claimed royal lineage from the Pharoah Hatshepsut. His most famous quote was to ‘do unto yourself as you wish yourself to want to do to unto the other.’ He was a perplexed soul, and his perplexity touched souls far and wide. There were not many in the tiny town of Raiwind in mid-thirteenth century who would (or could) lay claim to the Hatshepsut’s lineage, and that was unfortunate since a bit of extra lineaging wouldn’t have done Hatshepsut an itty bit of harm.

It is reputed that Al Malanga wanted to leave behind some sort of a miracle as legacy. Nothing moon shattering, just something to keep the conversation warm when camps of weary travelers settled down in the evening and exchanged tales of ribaldry and zest. He would have liked that. But this offshoot of Hatshepsut’s progeny was to be denied this legacy, and so his name lives on only when perplexed souls far and wide attempt to do unto themselves as they wish to want to do unto others. Hatshepsut would have been content with just that. Abu Tukh wasn’t.

Abu Luchcha Al Lafanga

There are many anecdotes related to Abu Luchcha, and if one tries to reconcile one anecdote with another, one quickly realizes the futility of the endeavor. It is this multifaceted truth that Al Lafanga dared to embody in his being. Two anecdotes will illustrate. The first one narrates Abu Lucchha as a lad of seven picking dates which had fallen on the ground. A passerby chided Al Lafanga asking, “Do you not mind your tender hands getting sullied with such pickings when there is a cleaner harvest not too far above?” Abu Luchcha paid no heed to the man not knowing what the words ‘sullied’ and ‘harvest’ meant.

The other anecdote has the tables turned so that it is an older Al Lafanga passing by a young boy collecting faalsa droppings. Abu Luchcha sat down and affectionately tried to explain to the boy the meanings of the words ‘sullied’ and ‘harvest’.