In my life there was a time that it had become a house of doubts, suspicions, uncertainties, and whispers. When I took steps on the path of certainty, the storm of whispers and doubts attacked me. I said: what did I get in return for this. For such a long period I called upon Allah, why did Allah not answer. Gathered nights into my eyes, why no unveiling occurred. My right over my Murshid is this, is that…..what did he give me. For the Silsila I made day and night one, what did I get from the Silsila. Why was that man favored, why was I kept deprived?
All the letters that used to come addressed to Hazrat Qalandar Baba Auliya (may Allah’s mercy be upon him)….I had the honor that I would read them aloud. And I also wrote the replies.
One day I submitted: Hazoor, I sacrifice myself for you. Do I not even have as much ability as this person whose letter I have read?
Hazoor said: no, you do not have ability.
Sometimes I would think…this lady, MashaAllah, makes such good journeys, flying about in the heavens. Am I even worse than her?
He said: yes.
When the water went above the head, and attacks of despair began upon me, when Satan made me his instrument…..one day Murshid had mercy.
He said: Khawaja Sahib, sit down.
He asked: what is my relation with you? I said: I am your servant. He said: that is correct, but what am I to you?
I, trembling, said: Hazoor, you are my beloved.
Smiling he said: see, the problem is solved. Now tell me, when the beloved is in your arms, can any other thought come? And if it does come, then it is insult of the beloved. Because after the beloved’s embrace, if a thought comes, then in truth it is the beloved whose thought is coming. You want to see Paradise. You want to fly in the heavens.
Then how is your beloved me? Your beloved is Paradise, is flight, is unveiling and miracles.
My companion! Believe me, I trembled, and my eyes grew wet. The world in my heart became a house of mourning. With weary steps I rose and placed my head on Murshid’s feet and wept, when noble Murshid gave a sigh and embraced me to his chest.
The taste of union with the beloved even today is alive within me. And it is this very taste of union that keeps me restless day and night. In search of this taste I did not leave a place unreached.
I saw every corner of Paradise. In the heights of heavens I saw the beauty of the angelic wings of attributes. In the holy bodies of the exalted assembly I saw the reflection of divine radiance. I went about the layers of Hell. I saw death. I wrestled with death. I saw that which there are no words to describe.
But…the taste of union with Murshid I did not find. Every moment after dying I live because I will gain nearness to Murshid. After living, every moment I die because I will gain union with Murshid.
When I look within, Murshid is seen. When I look outside Murshid’s glimpse falls.
Ah, what taste of union it was that after ages passing still the soul is in yearning, in agitation, in waiting. With this certainty I live, with this certainty I will die, with this certainty I will live again that noble Murshid, Hazrat Qalandar Baba Auliya (may Allah’s mercy be upon him), will once again embrace me to his chest and gather me within him so completely that my existence will be dissolved, and no one will know that Murshid and disciple are two separate layers.
Traveler of the spiritual path, my son, I wished to write a few lines to you. But within me the restrained storm of love for my noble Murshid burst forth, and I kept writing the tale of madness. May my madness become your madness.
(Ameen)
By Beloved Khawaja Shamsuddin Azeemi RA, Booklet: Beloved in My Arms