Mid- week blues can really bog some of us down. The fabric of time keeps stretching and existential questions pave their way surreptitiously into those tamped down mental frameworks. While it’s purely our journey that will ultimately show us the beacon of light, a little help from beautiful artists, who have taken ungainly walks on similar roads, can help us understand and sustain the mystery of living. Here are some beautiful translated works of Rumi by Farrukh Dhondy, interspersed with art by accomplished artists – together they create a beautiful dance of ‘The Inspired’ and ‘The Inspiring’.
Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī, also known as Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Balkhī, and more popularly simply as Rumi, was a 13th-century Persian poet, faqih, Islamic scholar, theologian, and Sufi mystic originally from Greater Khorasan.
The essence of Sufism is ingrained in the poet’s work. “Tomorrow is a hope – the dreamer’s way. The Sufi lives the moment, rejoices in today!”
The latest heinous crime
Are passing shows, the real news
Is the stillness beyond time.
ON THE JOURNEY
Follow your Guide, Traveller, don’t trust to the map
These highways and low ways are prone to mishap
We all travel down the ways we haven’t been before
So trust to Him and follow – he’ll take you, door to door.
THROUGH A GLASS
He who looks at wine
Through coloured glass
Knows not the colour of the wine.
Reflected light must pass
Through the filter of the cup
And yet the wine
Remains what it is.
Cannot be filtered
Through the mind
Or through your reason strained,
Through patience and
Can it be attained.
My fellow traveller
Don’t ask where I go
The only logical answer
Unhelpful and yet not,
Is that I do not know.
A pen is
It doesn’t know how to write
Does a ball
The trajectory of its flight ?
The drunk and
Are characters in this play
Pieces on a
Can only move in a certain way.
THE WILL TO DROWN
Desire and your longings will bring you to a fall
Why fear falling, my friend isn’t it after all
Like willing yourself to drown in God and go to paradise,
To a haven under the waters or a garden in the skies?
What ecstasy is it to be pierced by the glance
The arrow from a lover’s eye, the wound that makes you dance,
O Heart, what difference then, between joy and pain?
Opposites are identical and logic is in vain.