We are the Ahl al-Kit\u0101b [1]
\nWe are the orphaned wanderers
\nThe soles of our feet now sticky
\nWith the imprint of lands sweet like poisoned honey
\nWe sip from their rivers flowing with milk
\nBut are thirsty
\nfor the thirst we felt in our own deserts
\nHungry
\nfor the hunger we felt in our own mountains
\nThe seas that we cross
\nHave not been parted for us
\nand are not Red
\nThe only Red we see
\nIs the mark of the sajda [2]
\nOn our foreheads like a Sindoor [3]
\nWe turn our faces to the East
\n\u201cAssalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh [4]
\nWhere is God, my brother?\u201d
\nWe turn our faces to the West
\n\u201cAssalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh
\nWhere is God, my sister?\u201d<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Where is God not? the Dervish [5] from Kabul answers
\nDo you not see the Ayat [6] that He has left for you
\nWritten on your palms
\nIn the curve of your lover\u2019s lips
\nOn the skeletons of leaves as you watch them burn
\nHow could you?
\nWhen you close your eyes,
\nAs you turn your face to the East and West.
\nWhen you cover your Saaghar [7] with your hand,
\nFrightened that it will overflow with wine.
\nIf you want to find God\u2019s house,
\nDo not come knocking at Mecca\u2019s gates.
\nIf you want to learn to love God,
\nDo not look to the Men of Letters who collect books
\nLook to the wandering Majnun [8] instead
\nAnd taste what God has poured in his cup
\nThat intoxicates the sober and drunk alike<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
I smile and reply I am no Dervish,
\nBut I am a weary wanderer too,
\nThe red-hot memory of my own motherland rubbing clean
\nfrom the soles of my shoes
\nAs they collect grime and grub
\nFrom the Pardes [9] I walk through
\nAnd on this journey
\nI have found no home
\nBut the home in Him
\nSo place a tombstone made of camel hair upon my head, Brother
\nWrap me in your own white shroud
\nAnd ask My Prophet to take back his black Burda [10]
\nSo that I may return to where I belong
\nBecause when all was lost
\nAnd everyone left,
\nAnd it was time to turn off the lights
\nIn my heart there was a niche,
\nAnd in that niche there was a lamp,
\nAnd in that lamp was God\u2019s light
\nAnd within me, I found that which I had sought all along<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Now when I turn my face to the East,
\nand I turn my face to the West,
\nI find that I have turned my face to God
\nAssalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh
\nAssalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh
\nAssalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh<\/p>\n
Week 2: The Qur’\u0101n, God’s Word as Sacred Design, and the Art of Calligraphy Having perused through the many calligrams and scholarly texts offered during Week 2, I have become aware of the fact that devotion to God does not merely mean turning your face to the East and West in prayer. Instead, Muslims worship God and celebrate his Prophet on a daily basis through various art forms such as poetry, music, and art. These different forms of expression lead to many different interpretations of Islam and it therefore can be difficult to celebrate these differences while still acknowledging the tawhid, or oneness of the Muslim community. Professor Asani introduces a commonly shared ideal in Chapter 2 of his Infidel of Love that expresses the importance of \u201cSelfless love for God.” I attempted to express this important ideal in the form of a poem, by drawing on \u201cheretical\u201d imagery and language commonly used by important poets of the past and from excerpts of poems Professor Asani included in his own creative analysis. I also mixed English with words borrowed from the Hindi, Arabic and Dari\/Farsi languages to reflect the tawhid of the Muslim community despite their differences.<\/p>\n The poem starts with \u201cWe are the Ahl al-Kitab\u201d (people of the Book) to remind the reader of the family that they are a part of. The second line stands in stark contrast to this solidarity and sense of belonging. We are also isolated in our journeys to the extent that we are like orphans without a home. This journey is both a spiritual and physical one. It specifically refers to the experience of being a refugee and immigrant, longing for the familiarity and safety of your home-country, while also being a wandering mystic seeking for Truth and longing to be reunited with God. The poem draws clear inspiration from commonly used symbols in the Abrahamic traditions such as the image of a land flowing with milk and honey and the parting of the Red Sea, while even drawing direct quotations from the Quran like the Surah an-Noor. The poem expresses the idea that there is more than one way to find God, and that to be one with God, one must lose themselves, be \u201cintoxicated\u201d with his love so to speak. The poem ends with the poet accepting the Sufi tradition that to know God, you must sacrifice your ego-centric tendencies and allow yourself to be annahilated (fana fillah) so that you can dissolve into love and experience God. This acceptance of fana relieves the tension created earlier when the phrase \u201cAssalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh\u201d is said twice, instead of the customary three times at the end of salat (prayer). The poem resolves itself by stating the phrase three times, symbolizing the completion of his life’s devotion and reunion with God. [1] Ahl al-Kitab. Arabic for \u201cpeople of the book\u201d and refers to those who follow monotheistic religions based on divine revelations written in holy books that were transmitted to people by God\u2019s messengers, some examples of ahl al-kitab including Jews and Christians. We are the Ahl al-Kit\u0101b [1] We are the orphaned wanderers The soles of our feet now sticky With the imprint of lands sweet like poisoned honey We sip from their rivers flowing with milk But are thirsty for the thirst we felt in our own deserts Hungry for the hunger we felt in our […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7991,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-50","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","post-preview"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/7991"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=50"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":74,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/50\/revisions\/74"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=50"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=50"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/archive.blogs.harvard.edu\/lailafortheloveofgodandhisprophet\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=50"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n
\n_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
\n <\/p>\n
\n[2] Sajda. Arabic word meaning “prostration to God” by pressing your forehead to the ground.
\n[3] Sindoor. Red pigment applied as a dot to the forehead or in the parting of the hair of a married Hindu woman.
\n[4] Assalamu\u2019alaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatuh. Arabic phrase meaning “May the peace, mercy, and blessings of Allah be with you.” This is commonly said as you turn your head to the East and the West a total of three times after a prayer to signify you wishing your neighbor peace, mercy, and blessings of Allah.
\n[5] A Dervish is a member of a Muslim Sufi religious order who has taken vows of austerity and participates in devotional exercises.
\n[6] Ayat. Arabic for “evidence” or “sign.” Also refers to phrases in the Quran.
\n[7] Saaghar. Dari for a cup with a stem and flat base, used commonly for drinking wine.
\n[8] Majnun. Arabic meaning “mad man.” Refers to the famous love story between Qays and Layla, Qays becoming so mad with love for Layla that people forget his real name and call him the mad man.
\n[9] Pardes. Pardes is Hindi word made of par (other) and des (country). It therefore means “foreign country.”
\n[10] Burda. Arabic for “cloak.” It refers to a poem written by Kab ibn Zuhayr who at first was a rival to the Prophet, and to seek forgiveness offered a beautiful poem to the Prophet. The Prophet was so moved by this poem, that he took off his cloak and placed it on the shoulders of to the poet.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"