[173]. Generally known as Majnún, the lover of Laylá. See Brockelmann, i, 48.
[174]. Nafaḥát, No. 578; Ibn Khallikán, No. 230.
[175]. A village, mentioned by Ibn al-Athír (x, 428, 24), in the vicinity of Baghdád.
[176]. Here a story is told of the Caliph `Umar, who asked Umm Kulthúm, the Prophet’s granddaughter, in marriage from her father `Alí.
CHAPTER XXIV.
The Uncovering of the Tenth Veil: explaining their phraseology and the definitions of their terms and the verities of the ideas which are signified.
Those employed in every craft and business, while discussing its mysteries with one another, make use of certain words and expressions of which the meaning is known only to themselves. Such expressions are invented for a double purpose: firstly, in order to facilitate the understanding of difficulties and bring them nearer to the comprehension of the novice; and secondly, in order to conceal the mysteries of that science from the uninitiated. The Ṣúfís also have technical terms for the purpose of expressing the matter of their discourse and in order that they may reveal or disguise their meaning as they please. I will now explain some of these terms and distinguish between the significations attached to various pairs of words.
Ḥál and Waqt.
Waqt (time) is a term with which Ṣúfís are familiar, and concerning which much has been said by the Shaykhs, but my object is to establish the truth, not to give long explanations. Waqt is that whereby a man becomes independent of the past and the future, as, for example, when an influence from God descends into his soul and makes his heart collected (mujtami`) he has no memory of the past and no thought of that which is not yet come. All people fail in this, and do not know what our past has been or what our future will be, except the possessors of waqt, who say: “Our knowledge cannot apprehend the future and the past, and we are happy with God in the present (andar waqt). If we occupy ourselves with to-morrow, or let any thought of it enter our minds, we shall be veiled (from God), and a veil is a great distraction (parágandagí).” It is absurd to think of the unattainable. Thus Abú Sa`íd Kharráz says: “Do not occupy your precious time except with the most precious of things, and the most precious of human things is the state of being occupied between the past and the future.” And the Apostle said: “I have a time (waqt) with God, in which none of the cherubim nor any prophet rivals me,” that is to say, “in which the eighteen thousand worlds do not occur to my mind and have no worth in my eyes.” Therefore, on the night of the Ascension, when the kingdom of earth and heaven was arrayed before him in all its beauty, he did not look at anything (Kor. liii, 17), for Muṣṭafá was noble (`azíz), and the noble are not engrossed save by that which is noble. The “times” (awqát) of the Unitarian are two: one in the state of loss (faqd) and one in the state of gain (wajd), one in the place of union and one in the place of separation. At both these times he is overpowered (maqhúr), because both his union and his separation are effected by God without such volition or acquisition on his part as would make it possible to invest him with any attribute. When a man’s power of volition is cut off from him, whatever he does or experiences is the result of “time” (waqt). It is related that Junayd said: ”I saw a dervish in the desert, sitting under a mimosa-tree in a hard and uncomfortable spot, and asked him what made him sit there so still. He answered: ‘I had a “time” and lost it here; now I am sitting and mourning.’ I inquired how long he had been there. He answered: ‘Twelve years. Will not the Shaykh offer up a prayer (himmatí kunad) on my behalf, that perchance I may find my “time” again?’ I left him,” said Junayd, ”and performed the pilgrimage and prayed for him. My prayer was granted. On my return I found him seated in the same place. ‘Why,’ I said, ‘do you not go from here, since you have obtained your wish?’ He replied: ‘O Shaykh, I settled myself in this place of desolation where I lost my capital: is it right that I should leave the place where I have found my capital once more and where I enjoy the society of God? Let the Shaykh go in peace, for I will mix my dust with the dust of this spot, that I may rise at the Resurrection from this dust which is the abode of my delight.’ No man can attain to the reality of “time” by exerting his choice, for “time” is a thing that does not come within the scope of human acquisition, that it should be gained by effort, nor is it sold in the market, that anyone should give his life in exchange for it, and the will has no power either to attract or to repel it. The Shaykhs have said, “Time is a cutting sword,” because it is characteristic of a sword to cut, and “time” cuts the root of the future and the past, and obliterates care of yesterday and to-morrow from the heart. The sword is a dangerous companion: either it makes its master a king or it destroys him. Although one should pay homage to the sword and carry it on one’s own shoulder for a thousand years, in the moment of cutting it does not discriminate between its master’s neck and the neck of another. Violence (qahr) is its characteristic, and violence will not depart from it at the wish of its master.
Ḥál (state) is that which descends upon “time” (waqt) and adorns it, as the spirit adorns the body. Waqt has need of ḥál, for waqt is beautified by ḥál and subsists thereby. When the owner of waqt comes into possession of ḥál, he is no more subject to change and is made steadfast (mustaqím) in his state; for, when he has waqt without ḥál, he may lose it, but when ḥál attaches itself to him, all his state (rúzgár) becomes waqt, and that cannot be lost: what seems to be coming and going (ámad shud) is really the result of becoming and manifestation (takawwun ú ẕuhúr), just as, before this, waqt descended on him who has it. He who is in the state of becoming (mutakawwin) may be forgetful, and on him who is thus forgetful ḥál descends and waqt is made stable (mutamakkin); for the possessor of waqt may become forgetful, but the possessor of ḥál cannot possibly be so. The tongue of the possessor of ḥál is silent concerning his ḥál, but his actions proclaim the reality of his ḥál. Hence that spiritual director said: “To ask about ḥál is absurd,” because ḥál is the annihilation of speech (maqál). Master Abú `Alí Daqqáq says: “If there is joy or woe in this world or the next world, the portion of waqt is that (feeling) in which thou art.” But ḥál is not like this; when ḥál comes on a man from God, it banishes all these feelings from his heart. Thus Jacob was a possessor of waqt: now he was blinded by separation, now he was restored to sight by union, now he was mourning and wailing, now he was calm and joyful. But Abraham was a possessor of ḥál: he was not conscious of separation, that he should be stricken with grief, nor of union, that he should be filled with joy. The sun and moon and stars contributed to his ḥál, but he, while he gazed, was independent of them: whatever he looked on, he saw only God, and he said: “I love not them that set” (Kor. vi, 76). Accordingly, the world sometimes becomes a hell to the possessor of waqt, because he is contemplating absence (ghaybat) and his heart is distressed by the loss of his beloved; and sometimes his heart is like a Paradise in the blessedness of contemplation, and every moment brings to him a gift and a glad message from God. On the other hand, it makes no difference to the possessor of ḥál whether he is veiled by affliction or unveiled by happiness; for he is always in the place of actual vision (`iyán). Ḥál is an attribute of the object desired (murád), while waqt is the rank of the desirer (muríd). The latter is with himself in the pleasure of waqt, the former with God in the delight of ḥál. How far apart are the two degrees!
Maqám and Tamkín, and the difference between them.