AMIR KHUSRAW AND CONTEMPORARY MYSTICISM[1]

K. Badar

Amīr Khusraw was born in the thirteenth century of the Christian era when Muslim mysticism was almost at its height. It is a strange phenomenon that the Chishtī saints of the first period tried their best to keep themselves away from kings. nobles and other ranks. under the belief that the ruling groups were mostly unscrupulous in their dealings with the people who were always being maltreated, under-nourished, and suffered from thousand and one grievances. But Amīr Khusraw, who was able to win confidence of the great Shaikh, Niẓāmuddīn Auliyā’, lived a life that was not in the spirit of the mystic tradition of his silsilah. It is indeed true that the Shaikh had a particular regard for him and would go out of the way to humour him; yet the disparity between the life of the poet and the saint is too evident to be overlooked.

In Fawā’id al-Fuwād, there is an oblique reference to Khusraw when the Shaikh had not yet decided where to settle permanently, that he remembers Patyali, the place where Khusraw was born and where, according to an account, the great Shaikh lived in the house of the poet’s maternal grandfather for about two years.[2] In the Siyar al-Auliyā’ of Amir Khurd, there are many reports which throw ample light on the intimacy of this relationship. The author finished the hook about sixty-five years after the death of the great Shaikh and the events he relates are often on the authority of his father and some other persons.[3] I feel that the nature of this relationship as mentioned here is much more influenced by the writer’s or reporter’s own favoured ‘prejudices; they do not sometimes seem to portray facts as they are.

In the Khayr al-Majālis, the Malfūẓāt of the great Shaikh’s khalīfah, Shaikh Naṣīruddīn Chirāgh-i Dihlī, compiled by Ḥamīd Qalandar who, was not only the disciple of Chirāgh-i Dihlī but had also been the disciple of the great Shaikh himself and spent the earlier part of his life in his presence, there is a single reference to Amīr Khusraw that throws light on this aspect of the problem.

In the forty-fourth majlis, discussion started about poetry. The Shaikh said: Khusraw and Ḥasan Sijzī tried their best to write after the pattern of Shaikh Sa‘dī, but could not succeed, because the latter was a man of mystic life and wrote what he experienced personally, implying that Khusraw and Ḥasan were men of the world and could not reach the height which is possible only for those who have renounced the world in the real sense. To support this point of view, the Shaikh praises both Niẓāmī and Khagānī as pious souls but is all praise for Hakim Sanā’ī who had renounced the world fully, and quotes the following verse of his:

[You have heard about the beauties of countries like Rūm and China,

Rise and come with me and see the country of Sanā’ī.]

The country of Sanā’ī, as the Shaikh elucidates, is the country of faqr, true renunciation, to which Khusraw had no access.[4]

What in fact brought the saint and the poet together was, first, their love for poetry and music. It is related in the Fawā’id that the great Shaikh and his teacher Maulānā Uṣūlī were comparing a text between themselves. They came to a verse which both of them failed to decipher correctly. A person came who, otherwise quite illiterate, was able to solve their difficulty. The Maulānā remarked that it was due to the inherent bent of his mind towards harmony and cadence that helped him in this. The great Shaikh, after recounting this event, told his audience that it was after that event that he understood what dhauq, aptitude for appreciating love, beauty, art and music, really meant.[5] This was the characteristic that Khusraw shared with the great Shaikh and that made him dearer to his heart.

 The poet often participated in the audition meetings of the great Shaikh and on certain occasions recited his own verses which led the Shaikh into the ecstatic mood Amīr Khurd gives accounts of certain such meetings. In one such meeting, when the Shaikh was enjoying the poetry of Auḥāduddīn Kirmānī, sung by his favourite qawwāl, and drops of tears were flowing down his cheeks looking like shining pearls, Khusraw began to sing his own ghazal. On the first verse:

[He showed his face to everybody but to me he said: Don’t you see?

I’m unaware of the intoxicating experience; what did he mean?]

The Shaikh was overwhelmed. With a loving glance, the Shaikh looked towards the poet and the previous state of ecstasy returned. Khusraw repeated the verse several times.[6]

There is an account of an another majlis held on the upper floor of the Jamā’at Khānah, during the reigh of Ghiyāthuddīn Tughlaq. It was an auspicious occasion when almost all the friends and disciples of the Shaikh including Amīr Khusraw, were present. The audition began with a verse of Shaikh Sa’‘dī. After a while the situation sub-sided. Then all at once Amīr Ḥājjī, the son of Amīr Khusraw, started singing his father’s ghazal. When he reached the following verse:

[Khusraw! who are you to be worthy of consideration?

Love has struck its sword on the head of several pious people]

the rapture again reappeared — Amīr Ḥjājjī repeating the verse and the Shaikh dancing and swaying. Amīr Khurd states that the situation was so electrifying and spiritually so edifying that he never experienced it afterwards.[7]

I would finish these accounts with the following. Once when the audition was in full swing and Amīr Khusraw was singing and dancing with his arms outstretched upwards, that the Shaikh beckoned him towards himself. In his state of ecstasy and rapture, he could find sufficient composure to address the poet thus: "You are a man of the world, you should not dance in this fashion with hands stretched up.wards (like a true sufi, maybe).[8] It shows that the great Shaikh was fully aware of the real position which the poet occupied.

And yet a sort of psychological rapport was formed between the saint and the poet during different sittings of the audition, and his musical talent and poetic excellence established a relation between the two that seemed to give Khusraw some special glamour among the assembly of the pious. I would, however, refuse to accept Khusraw as a sufi.

The author of Siyar al-Auliyā, while referring to Amīr Khusraw’s poetic charms, says that he was a sufi, enjoying constant spiritual experiences (mustaqīm al-aḥawāl), the greater part of whose life was spent in fasts and prayers and recitations; he was a special disciple of the Shaikh. He adds that he did not see anyone more devoted and attached to his pīr than he and that he had a full share of love and ‘ishq and enjoyed samā’, etc.[9]

In view of what has been stated above, I doubt the authenticity of this statement, especially the first part of it. It is an honest portrayal of a friend’s character, innocently and plainly given by a fellow disciple who was deeply attached to his spiritual mentor and meant well for everybody. The picture that he draws is the picture of any resident of the great Shaikh’s Jam5’at Khānah. But, unfortunately, studied historically and in the light of the mathnawīs and qaṣā’ids written by the poet, this portrayal turns out to be too rosy to be true.

Amīr Khusraw was a poet of eminence no doubt and could be placed along with other great poets of Persian, but he was not a sufi at all, if by ṣūfī we mean the type of life that was led by the great Shaikh and by scores of his other disciples. The contrast drawn by the Chirāgh-i Dihlī between him and Sanā’ī, on the one hand, and then the clear-cut warning given to the poet while in audition, on the other hand, point in the same direction. He lived the life of an ordinary man of the world, amassing and spending wealth as and when he liked; the qaṣīdahs he wrote in praise of the contemporary kings and nobles do not at all reflect the mind and heart of a true sufi.

It is again true that Khusraw was a man of love and passion and sang songs of beauty and love. He was no doubt attached to the person of the Shaikh — his qaṣīdahs in his praise, with which we shall deal later, reveal the depth of his love for him; but it was the kind of attachment which ordinary worldly people usually entertain for saintly personages. It is equally true that the great saint had some soft corner for the poet — he could enter his ḥujrah when nobody else could dare s enter, he could beg of him certain things which his most pious and most devoted and far more spiritually advanced disciples could not; but I feel that this exception in his case arose out of his being a poet, a musician, being a past master in the art of companionship and t because he could enjoy and appreciate beauty, art and music, or because he was capable of feeling and sharing the pangs of love which he could express in so beautiful a language. The esteem which the poet enjoyed in the eyes of the great Shaikh arose not because he was a sufi — as most of our chroniclers, including Baranī, have wrongly asserted about him — but because, and I emphasise this point, through his poetic and musical talent he could give expression to human nature’s different moods which even a saint like the great Shaikh could well enjoy because he was schooled, under the benign influence of Shaikh Farīd Ganj Shakar, in the message of love and beauty, both human and divine.

Short Biographical Sketch. Khusraw belonged to the Hazāra- Lāchīn clan of Turkish origin and his great Shaikh often called him as Turk Allah, as he himself says:

[As you call this servant by the title of Turk Allah,

Hold his hand and hand him over to God.]

His family, living in Central Asia, Transoxania or Khurāsān, must have migrated from their native lands under the devastating attacks of the Mongols and came over to India. Khusraw’s father settled in Patyali, a small town in the U.P., otherwise known as Mominpura. His father, Amīr Saifuddīn, called Saif-i Shamsī because of his service with Sulṭān Shamsuddīn Iltūtmish, must have been holding a sufficient high rank, for very soon he was married to the daughter of ‘Imād-ul-Mulk, Rawḍat Arc, the well-known Wazīr-i Jang of Balban.[10]

It is said that his grandfather was an Indian, converted to Islam, and, therefore, though a Turk by race, Khusraw was deeply devoted to his land of birth and spoke the Hindawi, his mother tongue. This love of Khusraw is expressed in most of his mathnawīs, especially in Nūḥ Spihir where he compares the cultural achievements of the people of India with those of other countries and concludes that in every sphere of art and knowledge they far excel others except in fiqh.

His father, as he relates himself, was very distinguished in the art of warfare. "A Turk," he says, "is an angel only in dream but Saif-i Shamsī was a real angel. He was not literate but he tried hi best to give me the best education. By profession, he was an Arnie in the service of the King, but he was in matters spiritual as good as saint."[11] Khusraw was thus fortunate to inherit the best characteristics of the two races, Turkish and Indian, the happy blend of which is visible in the life, poetry and intellectual attitudes of Khusraw.

He was only seven years of age when his father died.[12] It was o course unfortunate in a way, thinking how very anxious his father was about his education. Henceforth, it so seems, the young child could, find peace and consolation in the bosom of his mother who seemed t be very much loving and solicitous of the child’s welfare. She seemed to put all her love and affection on the growing child and, as a result we find Khusraw all through his life looking to his mother with ever increasing affection and ever longing to return to her bosom ant loving care. Even when grown up, whenever he returned after long o short absence with the kings, he would like to embrace her mother, and seek peace and consolation that only mothers can give.

Thereafter, Khusraw went to live with his maternal grandfather where, it so seems, the atmosphere was not only congenial to his spiritual but inspired him to reach higher and ever higher planes. As Khusraw himself relates in the Dībāchah, ‘‘Imād-ul-Mulk was a magnanimous man and showered his beneficence on all and sundry Here Khusraw had the opportunity to listen to the discussions of poets, scholars politicians and litterateurs of the age. He was by nature a pee having the talent to compose beautiful and rythmic verses. It is salt that the teacher to whom he used to go for education first tried to dissuade him from composing poetry, but when he found that this at’ is but natural with him, henceforth he tried to encourage him in this field. Mostly through his natural talent and partly through such favourable circumstances, Khusraw was well on the way to be a poet of great eminence.

"I was only twelve years old," he says, "when the foundation the various forms of verse were laid strongly in my mind. When scholars and savants of the time saw my proficiency in poetry, the were amazed and their amazement added to my pride, for on listening to my verses they used to encourage me heartily.... From time to time contemporary poets used to test my skill and I displayed to them my art with the burning eloquence of my tongue. As no master has ever trained me,... for some time I placed before me, like the parrot learning to speak, the mirror of imagination, and learnt poetry from the images that were reflected in that mirror.... I studied constantly the works of great masters. From these I culled what was sweet and thus acquired a real taste for the pleasures of poetry. My eyes and intellect brightened when I saw the writings of Anwarī and Sanā’ī, and whenever I beheld a poem bright as gold-water I chased it like a run­ning stream. Every dīwān I came across I not only studied but imitated in my compositions."[13]

Poetry and rhymed verses came to him of their own, though people accused him of his ignorance of prosody and other meticulous rules of metres, etc.

[O thou who saith to me, Khusraw! thou knoweth not prosody;

I’m not in need of prosody for proper rhyming;

Through my natural aptitude, I sing rhymed ye’ se;

When you judge them, they shall be found to be properly rhymed][14]

Born and bred in India of the thirteenth century, Khusraw could compose verses in Persian and Hindawi quite easily and naturally but could not write in Arabic. Commenting on this he says:

[I am an Indian Turk ; I can easily sneak in Hindawi,

I do not possess sweetness of miṣrī that 1 may speak Arabic.][15]

He calls himself Ṭūṭī-i Hind, the Parrot of India:

[As I am a Parrot of India, if you ask aright,

Ask me in Hindawi, so that I may speak nicely.][16]

His grandfather died in 671/1273 at the age of one hundred and thirteen when Khusraw was a young man of twenty. With talent for poetry and music already’ recognised he could find little difficulty with regard to his future. The times were favourable and, after a period of instability, the country could heave a sigh of relief when Naṣīruddīn Maḥmūd, the youngest son of Iltūtmish, ascended the throne in 646 1248. For twenty-two years of his reign and then twenty-one years during Balban’s direct reign, there was peace and security in the country. It was the period when Khusraw’s talent needed wholesome atmosphere to mature and flower and, fortunately for him, the country’s peaceful atmosphere helped the rising poet in further polishing his talents.

Contemporary Intellectual Atmosphere. If we look at the intellectual atmosphere in those days, we find it was one of the enviable periods of Indian history. Poets and scholars came pouring in as if flying from the destructive forces of the Mongol hordes in the heartlands of Islam and seeking not only safety but brilliant chances of rich patronage. Wealth was in abundance and nobles vied with one another in spending their money on anyone who could prove his mettle in the durbar, who could sing beautiful and charming songs in his praise, who could warm his heart with sweet notes on some musical instrument, who could demonstrate his scholarly ability in face of all kinds of challenge to his superiority. In short, there was no dearth of real appreciation for true and real merit.

Though there was no dearth of great scholars and religious thinkers in this age,[17] we shall mention briefly only a few poets who were Khusraw’s contemporaries and adorned, like him, the courts of nobles and kings of the day.

One is Tājuddīn Raizah or, as some call, Sangraizah after Jamālīl. Like Khusraw he is proud of his Indian origin where he was born and educated and could legitimately boast of high quality of his poetry and prose. He says:

[My land of birth and upbringing is this land of Ind,

This prose and poetry of mine glitters as Khurāsān’s.]

He sang qaṣīdahs in praise of several contemporary nobles.[18]

Another important figure who is much more intimately related to Khusraw is Shams Dabīr who was a great scholar and poet and was attached to the court of Bughrah Khān, son of Balban. According to Shaikh Niẓāmuddīn Auliyā’, Shams Dabīr studied Qāḍī Ḥamīduddīn Nāgaurī’s Lawā’iḥ with Shaikh Farīduddīn Ganj Shakar whom he served most devotedly. He used to cook food himself and invite several people for ifṭār, and the great Shaikh, Niẓāmuddīn, used to be invariably present on these occasions. These were the days when he was very poor.[19]

On another occasion, the great Shaikh relates that once Shams Dabīr brought a qaṣīdah in praise of Shaikh Farīd. On being permitted, he stood up and recited it. The Shaikh then asked him his reason for it. Shams Dabīr described his financial difficulties and requested Shaikh Farīd to pray for him. It was after that event that Shams Dabīr be-came Dabīr of Bughrāh Khān.[20] On this occasion Tājuddīn Raizah composed a qaṣīdah in his praise According to Professor Shairānī, Shams was the teacher of Shaikh Niẓāmuddīn Auliyā’ who learnt Ḥadīth and Maqāmāt-i Ḥarīrī from him.[21]

When Khusraw was in the service of Kishlī Khān, one night Bughrah Khān came to visit the noble who was his cousin, to enjoy nightly drink and singing parties that were usually forbidden under Balban’s strict orders. The prince was accompanied by Shams Dabīr and Qāḍī Athīr. There, poetic contest started and Khusraw succeeded in establishing his superiority at which Bughrah Khan showered rich rewards on him — an act which Kishlī Khan took as insult to his magnanimity. Khusraw thereafter left his service and set off to seek another patron. He reached Bughrah Khān at Samānah. The prince was overjoyed but Khusraw’s relief proved shortlived, for Bughrah Khān had to leave for Bengal in the company of the King. Khusraw could not make himself like the new country and returned to Dehli.

In Khusrawī, it is related that Shams Dabīr gave his Dīwān of verses to him, but Khusraw always regarded him as senior to him-self and often talked of his poetic merit because Shams Dabīr greatly liked his talents.[22]

The other great poet of eminence of this period is Shi’hāb Mahmarah who is said to be the teacher of Khusraw.[23] It is at present difficult to speak much about him except that Badā’ūnī in his Muntakhab gives some specimens of his qaṣīdahs.

It was in 680/1281 that Khusraw reached Dehli and cast his eyes around to see if there was somebody who could patronise him. It seems that either Balban was not so well disposed towards poets or else Khusraw himself did not find himself equal to the task of entering the service of the king. He, therefore, decided to seek employment at the court of Prince Muḥammad at Multan. The prince was a man of letters and was a great patron of learned people, scholars, poets and litterateurs. In spite of wild talk and utterly untruthful allegations of certain biographers of Suhrawardī saints, especially of Ṣadruddīn ‘‘Ārif, the prince was one of the noblest that adorned the court at Multan.[24] To him Khusraw went for patronage and was delighted to serve him. Here we find Amīr Masan Sijzī, the great contemporary poet, who is famous for compiling Fawā’id al-Fuwād, a valuable record of the sayings of the great Shaikh, that set an example for Malfūẓ literature of the subcontinent.

Unfortunately, the prince died in one of his encounters with the Mongols and Khusraw had to suffer imprisonment from which, how-ever, he was almost miraculously saved. His safe return to the capital was a happy augury for the future Persian poetry in India to which Khusraw was yet to add his beautiful and charming Khamsah and other mathnawīs of great historical value and poetic beauty.

But he found the country plunged almost in grief at the sudden death of the illustrious prince. Khusraw wrote a moving elegy on the death of the martyr prince which added to the torments of the already dying monarch. After the death of Balban in 686/1287, Khusraw soon secured royal patronage which lasted till the end of his life with very little ups and downs. All this period, from 686/1287 to his death in 725/1325, passed almost peacefully for him, although politically the country witnessed many dangerous situations and sudden and unexpected changes of rulers and dynasties; but to Khusraw it seemed to matter very little: he was always and without exception loyal to the Crown and Throne, whoever there was who adorned (or desecrated) them. It was during this period that he wrote his historical mathnawīs and then during the peaceful reign of ‘‘Alā’uddīn Khaljī wrote the famous Khamsah after the pattern of Niẓāmī.

 Among the historical mathnawīs, the first is Qirān as-Sa’dain, written in 688/1289 after a labour of six months, commemorating the meeting of the King Kaiqubād, the son, and his father, Bughrah Khān, erstwhile patron of Khusraw, who preferred governorship of Bengal to kingship at Dehli.

The second, the ‘Ishqīyyah or the Romance of Khiḍr Khān and Daivalrani, was completed in 715/1315 after a labour of four months and some days. In the Introduction Khusraw gives in brief the history of Muslim ascendancy in India from the days of Shihābuddīn Ghaurī till the enthronement of ‘‘Alā’uddīn Khaljī in 696/1296. It is one of our main and authentic sources of information for understanding the social customs prevalent among upper classes of Muslims of those days.

The third in this category is Nūḥ Spihir that deals with the early reign of Quṭbuddīn Mubārak Shāh, son of ‘‘Ala’uddīn Khaljī. It was completed in 718/1319. In the third sphere, Khusraw praises the people of India who excelled, according to him, all the people of the world in knowledge, arts and sciences. He vehemently states that these people (i.e. Hindus) believe in the unity and eternity of God, His power to create everything from nothing (‘adam)[25] In Tughlaq Nāmah, written in 725/1325, he describes the historical events that led to the murder of Quṭbuddīn Mubārak Shāh at the hands of Khusraw Khān and then the defeat and death of the Iatter at the hands of Ghiyāthuddīn Tuehlaq who ascended the throne at Dehli in 720/1320. These historical mathnawīs occupy a very prominent place in our literature, as they relate contemporary events in their true perspective.

The five romantic mathnawīs that he wrote after the pattern of Niẓāmī’s — which was probably written after the Pentateuch, i.e. the well-known five books of Moses. Much controversy ranges whether Niẓāmī’s Khamsah is better than Khusraw’s. There are various opinions on this subject, but it is almost unanimously held that no Khamsah, written after the pattern of Niẓāmī’, ever compares in beauty of expression and richness of artistic skill with Khusraw’s.

Khusraw and the Great Shaikh. Many unfounded legends are often related by our Tadhkirah-writers regarding great poets, scholars and saints. It is related that when Khusraw was born his father took the babe to a saint who cried out that he would far outstrip Khāqānī.[26] It is not the first part of the legend that may be doubted, for common people would often take their new-born babies before a great saint for prayers and blessings. But what is doubtful is the foretelling aspect of the episode which plays on our credulity, for foretelling, commonly, is looked upon as the sine qua non of sainthood, especially of a majdhūb. Such stories are fabricated about most prominent people in different ages. It is true, however, that he was blessed by Nature with an exceptionally high level of the Muse. He not only surpassed in poetry but also contributed richly to the art and skill of music which, I think, endeared him to the great saint.

During the two years that the Shaikh lived in the house of Khusraw’s grandfather, his career as a poet was just starting and he used to show his poetic compositions to the Shaikh who advised him to write after the style of Safahanian, that is, he should write poetry employing the usual symbolism of love.[27] It is also related that Khusraw once read a qaṣīdah before the Shaikh, who was greatly pleased. In this state of enjoyment, the Shaikh asked him to beg for anything that shall be granted to him. Khusraw begged for sweetness in his verses. The Shaikh asked him to taste a little of sugar from the sugar bowl lying under his cot, and distribute some of it among the people sitting there. Khusraw did accordingly and the result: his poetry became sweet as sugar and liked by everybody.[28]

The Shaikh is reported to have composed the following quatrain about the poet:

[Khusraw, whose compere in poetry and prose seldom appeared,

It is the realm of letters over which our Khusraw rules;

He is our Khusraw, not Nāṣir Khusraw,

For God is the protector of our Khusraw.][29]

The particular point to note in these verses is the epithet that the great Shaikh uses "Our Khusraw" about the poet which seems to point out the intimacy of relationship. As stated earlier, the Shaikh used to call him Turk Allah or merely Turk.[30]

It is often said that Amīr Khusraw became the disciple of Shaikh Niẓāmuddīn at the age of eight. It does not seem to be correct. As a matter of fact he entered the pīr-disciple relationship, that involves conscious and voluntary commitment to a cause, in 671/1272 when be was about twenty-one. Henceforth the relationship of intimacy grew in depth which was further cemented by Khusraw’s capability to sing songs that moved the great Shaikh to heights of great ecstasy. In these situations, the poet rose in the Shaikh’s regard. In the evenings, the Shaikh would retire to his room and his servant Iqbal used to sit outside the door. Nobody was allowed to enter the room and see the Shaikh except Khusraw who had access to him at all times. If anybody had something to say to the Shaikh which he did not dare place before him, he would ask Khusraw to do that for him, and the Shaikh most often acceded to his requests.

It is related that some backbiters reported to the Shaikh, quite wrongly of course, that one of his dear disciples. Burhānuddīn Gharīb (d 738/1337), had started sitting like Mashā’ikh. The Shaikh was greatly disappointed and naturally grieved over the violation of the spiritual discipline. Later, when the poor disciple came to visit the Shaikh, he noticed clear signs of estrangement and disgust on the face of his murshid. It proved too much for the simple innocent person. He retired to his place totally grief-stricken and despondent. There seemed to him no hope of relief: how to find out the reason of his expulsion from the Shaikh’s Jama’‘āt Khānah, the rendezvous of thousands of stricken people. At last he requested the poet to speak on his behalf to the Shaikh.

One day, Khusraw came before the Shaikh with his turban hanging round his neck like a penance-seeking culprit. The Shaikh asked him the reason and Khusraw sought pardon for the innocent disciple. The Shaikh magnanimously forgave Burhānuddīn Gharīb at the poet’s intercession.[31]

Whenever the Shaikh had the mood, he would ask the poet to sing a song which would enrapture the Shaikh. Often Khusraw would sit in the middle with Ḥasan on the right’ and Mubashshir on the left and thus singing would start in a chorus which brought the Shaikh into ecstatic mood. One day Khusraw invited the Shaikh to his place where most of the Mashā’ikh of the town had assembled, for samā’.

The qawwāl started with a ghazal which, however, did not evoke the right mood. The Shaikh asked Khusraw to recite his own verses. He tried, but, somehow or other, his voice choked and he could not proceed with his own songs and, therefore, he had to fall back on Shaikh Sa‘dī’s ghazal which brought about the desired mood.[32]

In his ‘‘Ishqīyyah, he says of the Shaikh:[33]

[Niẓāmuddīn (wa’l-)Ḥaqq, of auspicious name

Through whose grace the true religion became stable,

His talk is, as Prophet’s tradition, in amr and nahī,

A little lower in rank than revelation;

His breath, like Mary, nourishes soul,

His saliva, the source of wounded hearts’ ointment;

His heart is knower of the old secret of Love;

His nature protector of the treasures of Love;

Wherever wind of his breath goes,

Thousands of mountains of grief disappear.][34]

These verses point out certain aspects of the Shaikh’s life : that he followed the Sharī’ah in his words and behaviour; that association with him brought about moral transformation among the people; that he followed the principle of love for everybody and, lastly, his Jamā’at Khānah served as a haven of relief and peace to the aggrieved people of the land.

In the Nūḥ Spihir (written in 71S/1318) we find Khusraw pouring out his devotional songs in praise of the Shaikh. While the night is dark and the destination far off, there is the dread of thieves, while the traveller is ever unmindful of the impending danger. He indeed is fortunate who finds his ways to good-natured people. The Path is so difficult and full of pintfalls that it is impossible to cross and reach the destination without the help of a leader. Then Khusraw relates his own experiences:

[What an opportunate time it was when, through my conscience’s urging,

I held the hand of that guide, in truth.

I got the saliva of his mouth that watered the water of my mouth;

My pure water which Khiḍr is after, I am alive through it, for it flows through your stream.

The two drops that I put in my inkpot — it’s as if I place darkness in the Water of Life.

When a drop I get out of that place, from that drop I set up a river.][35]

One thing is constantly repeated in these poems in praise of the Shaikh that Khusraw represents him as following very strictly in the footsteps of the Prophet. In the Nūḥ Spihir, for instance, while speaking about him, he says:

[Through abundance of spiritual wealth,

He walks after the character of the Prophet.][36]

In Hasht Bihisht, he says:

[He is the Ghauth of the World, brings order to the faith of our miliat,

Quṭb of seven skies and seven earths;

A foresighted leader, Muhammad his name,

Puts his step after that of the Prophet.][37]

In ‘Ishqīyyah, he says:

[Nīẓām of the true faith, with an auspicious name;

Who has brought order and harmony to the true faith;

His name is Muhammad and signs of Prophet Muḥammad

Are manifest in him as ‘ha’ and ‘mīm’ in Muḥammad.][38]

In Ā’īnah-i Sikandarī, the poet draws the picture of the Shaikh, revealing how he spends his days in prayers and devotions, but his greatest and noblest role is that of Comforter to the grief-stricken populace, the common people who unfortunately suffered untold miseries at the hands of petty officials, which are so often related in the Malfūẓ literature of the period.

Even people like Farīduddīn Ganj Shakar, Shaikh Niẓāmuddīn and Chirāgh-i Dihlī, who never played nor wished to play any part in the politics of the day, were subjected to the attacks of the ruffians most probably at the instance of some influential official of the locality. The doors of the Shaikh’s Jamā’at Khānah remained open till late at night and nobody was ever refused entry. He was himself carefree keeping fasts and yet showered bounties on the poor and helpless people. One day, at Ifṭār, his servant brought him some food but he took very little and returned the rest. The servant pointed out that he had taken very little at Seḥrī, and if he did not take more, he would be weak. The Shaikh remarked: Hundreds of poor people lie without food, how can I take stomachful?

He is described as emaciated due to constant vigils and yet is a source of strength to all those who visit him. He says:

[With pocket empty, but provision bag full of pearls,

With stomach empty, but heart full of treasures;

Breath of his is soul-refreshing like morning breeze,

His magnanimity ever ready to serve guests;

When his pure breath strikes the impure,

Impurities of water and dust ere removed all at once.

Although he bears the greatest burden of the people,

Yet none is so light in weight as he;

Every weak person who gets strength from his door,

Death finds its object away from him ;

For the disease of the heart he is a unique physician of ummat,

Has brought soothing medicine to hosts of afflicted persons.][39]

Type of Mysticism. The type of mysticism prevalent in Khusraw’s days in the subcontinent and as best illustrated in the life of Shaikh Niẓāmuddīn Auliyā’ was the true successor to the mysticism as reflected in the Kashf a1-Maḥjūb. For instance, the controversy over sukr versus sahw (intoxication versus sobriety) and preference of the former over the latter which led to estrangement between Sharī ‘ah and Ṭariqah, was rejected by the Shaikh. In a discourse on the capacity of the way ‑ farer (sālik) to absorb Divine Illumination, the Shaikh categorically stated that the people of sahw are far superior to those of sukr.[40] In another discourse on the same subject, the Shaikh says that the Prophets are invariably people of sahw; and indulging in karāmāt (saintly miracles) often serve as a veil that hide from him the face of Reality.[41]

Bāyazīd of Bisṭām (d. 2601874) is reported to have uttered that everybody including the Prophet Muḥammad shall be under his banner. The compiler of Fawā’id one day asked the Shaikh about it, stating that he could not understand its significance and that he could not bring himself to accepting it as such. The Shaikh at once replied that these were not the words of Bāyazīd. He added that he is reported to have said: Subḥāni ma ẓamu shāni [All praise to me! How lofty is my position], but later on, he recanted from it and recited the kalimah (Islamic profession of faith) once again (implying that what he had uttered was blasphemous which took him out of the fold of faith).[42]

This statement of the Shaikh clarifies certain points. He does not enter into controversy whether Bāyazīd actually said these and other words; he simply denies the existence of some of these statements. The only basis of his denial — which he does not mention — seems to be that whatever is contrary to the letter and spirit of the Sharī‘ah cannot be true and correct. Thirdly, the Shaikh does not attempt to interpret (ta’wīl) the words — which have been designated as Shaṭḥāt, as if, by coining a new word, its blasphemous character can be changed—but states openly that Bāyazīd recanted from it. Historically, he may have no evidence to support this statement but he absolutely and finally rejected its validity because, as he saw, it was quite untrue to the letter and spirit of the Sharī’ah.

Another problem is the relative merits of saints and Prophets. Ever since Ḥakīm al-Tirmidhī (d. 285/898) wrote his book Khātim al-Wilāyah, the question of superiority of saints has often been raised and discussed. But when this question was raised in one of the Shaikh’s meetings, he said that some believe that saints are superior to Prophet because, as they state, Prophets are most of the time engaged with people of the world (while saints are always with God). The Shaikh at once retorted that it was totally absurd and wrong Although, continues, the Prophets are always engaged in the world and 1 people around them, the little time that they spend with God is f more in quality than the whole time thus spent by the saints.[43]

It is thus evident that the type of mysticism contemporary with Khusraw as it is reflected in the Malfūẓat of the great Shaikh, was not at all contaminated with the germs of waḥdat al-wujūd.[44] The poi, becomes clearer when we come to consider the famous verse of Jamālī of Delhi, made popular by Iqbal while explaining the difference tween the two opposite points of view, the theistic of the Qur’ān and pantheistic of Ibn al-‘Arabī and a host of his followers:

[Moses fainted away by a mere surface illumination of Reality:

Thou seest the very substance of Reality with a smiled [45]

It indicates that the finite ego of the highest order can retain its individuality while face to face with the Infinite. This two-sided relationship, I-Thou in terms of Martin Bober. is the basic aspect of te. theistic view of life that is presented in the Qur’ān. The God of the Qur’ān is an individual and "each of us shall come to Him on the Da of Resurrection as a single individual".[46] This is the clearest refuta tion of the pantheistic conception of God which had been trying to escape from the individualistic conception of God as well as man.[47]

When we turn to the pages of Fawā’id al-Fuwād, we find the Shaikh endorsing this theistic interpretation quite categorically. In a discourse, the compiler says that the Shaikh came after saying prayers n the death of a friend and then began to talk of the deceased. The Shaikh said: At the time of death nobody was there; only he and the Divine Presence — it is a great blessing. Then the Shaikh began to relate about Shihābuddīn Khaṭīb nsvī who used to pray to God ‘us: I have tried feebly to fulfil most of Thine ordinances and I hope Thou wouldst also fulfil my last wish and that is that at the time of death there should be none — neither an angel of death nor anybody else — between Thou and me; there should be only Thou and I.[48]

It is related that one day the Shaikh was sitting on the top floor of his Jamā’at Khānah, situated by the Jamna. It was some religious occasion and the Hindus of the city had gathered in thousands offering their devotions to the Almighty. On observing them the Shaikh spoke out in his sweet tone:

[Every people have a way, a law and a qiblah.]

And Amīr Khusraw who was sitting beside the Shaikh, at once added:

[We have set our qiblah in the direction of our beloved ][49]

Some people have tried to develop a theory on the basis of this lone verse that the Shaikh was a cosmopolitan, had no particular affinity with Islam and the Muslim millat and that he was not at all interested in the conversion of the people to Islam, that, in short, he believed all religions to be equally true.

I feel that those who put forth this theory do this because they feel ashamed to call themselves Muslims. Only a true Muslim-one who believes in a personal beneficent God, in the unity of God (and not unity of existence) — is capable of this experience which the great Shaikh expressed in so beautiful a way. As Iqbal says in the appendix to Jāvīd Nāmah:

[Man of love tries to follow in the Way of God, Is kind to all,

believer and unbeliever alike.

Let belief and unbelief find room in thy heart;

If thy heart feels ill at ease, then God protect thee.][50]

That such an interpretation of the Shaikh’s utterances is u justified is, moreover proved both from Khusraw’s praise and Fawā’id’s accounts. Whenever and wherever, Khusraw speaks of the Shaikh, most often refers to his following in the footsteps of the Prophet which he was very scrupulous. He looked upon the Traditions of Prophet as next in importance to the Qur’an. When Ghayāthuddīn’ Tughlaq called a Maḥḍar to decide about the legality of samā’, Shaikh quoted a ḥadīth in his favour. Thereupon, one of the Assembly controverted by a saying from Abū Ḥanīfah. The Shaikh was enraged and remarked: How strange that any Muslim should controvert the saying of the Prophet and prefer the statement of a person to the saying of the Prophet?[51]

We have already quoted a verse from Khusraw’s Nūḥ Spihir about the Shaikh’s following in the footsteps of the Prophet. In Hasht Bihisht he says about him:

[The pure divine soul, strengthened by dīn,

Keeping alive the Prophet’s Sharī’ah.][52]

The Shaikh’s efforts were directed not only towards following t . Sharī’ah but towards reviving it and making it an active element in t, life of the people.

In the Nūḥ Spihir, Khusraw writes about the Prophet:

[Materiality draws you down to earth; catch hold of the Prophet;

Without following in his footsteps, there is no way to heavens.][53]

There are two different occasions mentioned in the Fawā’id which I would like to quote here in this context In a discourse, a person asked the Shaikh’s opinion about a Hindu who recites kalimah (Islamic profession of faith), believes in the unity of God and the prophethood of the Prophet, but does not profess it publicly. While replying to the question the Shaikh comments that it was within his personal know-ledge that many Hindus regard Islam as a true religion, yet they do not declare their Islam publicly (due to certain circumstances)[54]

The other instance is more revealing. A person visits the Shaikh in the company of a Hindu friend whom he calls his brother. The Shaikh himself asks the person: Has your brother any inclination towards Islam? He replied that he had brought him for that very purpose; perhaps he may embrace Islam through your influence.

Here the very question which the Shaikh asks of the visitor reveals the real attitude of the person. On seeing a Hindu in his presence, he is very much anxious to see him converted to Islam and is solicitous about his future welfare. The Shaikh was, however, conscious that there were certain factors, arising out of their social customs, that stood in their way of conversion and, on thinking over it, he was moved to tears and said: Alas! these people usually do not accept one’s advice; maybe some holy person’s society may influence their decision.[55]

To be a Muslim or to wish people of other faiths to be converted to Islam does not imply that such a man is incapable of broad human sympathies. It is true that the great Shaikh was above sectarian differences with regard to his treatment with the visitors. This humanism of his arose, not in spite of, but solely because of, his deep commitment to Islam. A true and consistent pantheist is a materialist whose morality is earth-rooted: it is only a theist who can rise higher and love mankind without any distinction.

As regards ‘aql (reason) and ‘ishq (love), the Shaikh states that they are opposed to each other. Scholars rely on ‘aql while Ṣūfīs follow the path of love; the intellect of scholars is preponderant over their love, while the love of Ṣūfīs is preponderant over their reason; but in Prophets both reason and love are combined. In Khusraw we find an echo of this ‘ishq, love.[56] In Nūḥ Spihir, he says:

[When the body of Adam was fashioned out of clay,

A portion of his so I was reserved for "heart".

Man is one in whom there is a heart, or

Otherwise. it is a storehouse of fodder.

What is life of the heart? It is burning and rapture.

What is life of body? Mere dust.

To be alive does not mean that you have soul within;

He alone is alive who has love in him.

Life that is without love is a mere play,

Love is not a play but sacrifice of life.][57]

In the romance of ‘Ishqīyyah, while praising God, Khusraw says:

[Khusraw is not aware of the treasures of reason,

He has no defect except that he is possessed of love.

O God! when Thou bast given life, grant me heart—

Heart of a lover, not a life of reason.

So lay the foundation of love in the heart

That greenery may constantly grow out of this earth;

So enliven the soul through "light of heart"

That I may live even after death.]

During this invocation, Khusraw cries out:

 [Hand over my reins into the hands of the Prophet ][58]

Notes and References