LAYLA'S LAMENT - God, Man, Love and the Language of Music

Layla's Lament

Oh Majnun, 

Say not that you love me, 

And Majnun, 

Say not that you care, 

For it is you 

Who has always denied me, 

So couch no lies in your words so fair,

Oh Majnun, 

Say not that you seek me, 

And in your search 

Oh how you despair, 

For I am always

There beside you, 

It is you who act 

Like I am not there,

Oh Majnun, 

Say not that you believe, 

And in your heart 

You do not deceive, 

For I am often 

The One lied to, 

Oh, how shall it be 

If I am as untrue? 

Oh Majnun, 

How hollow is your smile, 

For in your life 

You mix truth with your lies, 

And the crown that you wear 

Was never meant for you, 

And the path you choose 

Will take you no where. 

.......................

A Love Story. Everyone (I assume) have heard or read the story of Layla and Majnun. About the poor love-struck Majnun who was utterly, helplessly besotted with Layla, a woman with the unfortunate condition of being someone else's wife. Uh oh. Trouble.

Adam, my nephew, recording Layla's Lament first rough (very rough) cut.
We have passed it on to our singer and composer friend, Azri to flesh out
the song and add a little sparkle. 

God and Man. The story of Layla and Majnun was also read and interpreted as a parable of the love between Man and God. And it is in this context that Layla's Lament was written, way back in 21st November 2005. The date was in fact its original title, and just to add another level of myopia, the poem also had a second name, being 'Qubruz Bluez 2'. So Layla's Lament is its third and final (let's hope so!) incarnation.

I am forced to this rare change because the poem is being adapted for music, and let's face it... '21st November 2005 (Qubruz Bluez 2)' is a little long and vague for a song title. I am no musician, but with a little help from some very gifted friends, we hope to have an acceptable song within the next couple of months. 

My Infidelity. And I guess this is where I must confess... that I have been spending a lot of my free time working on the lyric and music for Layla's Lament. I am having an adulterous affair with music, leaving this almanac untouched for days on end. And it is not just Layla... but many, many other songs and prose, including instrumentals that have torn my attention away from my writing. I have been a bad, bad boy.

But to be honest... At 43, I am thankful to God Almighty and the Prophet (saws) for giving me another chance. Reawakening an ancient passion to fill my days. For I am enjoying becoming a student once again... learning the language of music, making my first untutored, awkward steps to God-knows-what-end. And finding the infinite space in the syllable of each word that is uttered or sang with love. 

184. Cathedral of Beauty

If Layla had not sent Majnun to guide us,

How long would we stray still in the temples of lesser devotions,

Never to set foot in the Cathedral of Beauty?

..............................

I have the story already, you see. Thousands upon thousands. But now I want someone to sing it!

Wish me luck, sunshine, in this new adventure, and for those still yet unknown who will be my travelling companions in this journey.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Layla, Majnun and their Big Fish in God's Ocean of love

26. The Smile

Layla! My Enthroned Sorrow!

My balm and heartache!

My sweet hemlock!

I caught Your Smile intended for another,

And it was I that You drove mad,

Though You were never mine.

Majnun!

Thou art blind,

For if thou saw My Smile,

Then it was always intended for thee,

And if I have ever Loved anyone any better,

Tell me, who can it be?

.....................

As a bona fide sinner, I don't go for the big fish. I am a timid sort of fisherman for love, and I would be happy enough to catch a small halibut for lunch. This is your fate and your limits when you are fishing at the very shallowest end of God's Ocean of Love. I am not complaining, I am gratified already to be allowed to slum about in His Creation. Thank You, God.

But once in a while, the great white whale passes underneath my rickety boat. That manifestation of Divine Love as reflected in the curious entanglement of Layla & Majnun. I don't often record such prose, but when the Big Love bumps my boat, I put down my fishing rod and just write. I dare not tempt fate when Big Love is knocking.

Our Weakness As Humans

When you are in love with a human being, you have to accept his weaknesses. He may not be geared to please your every whim 24/7. He is unlikely to be a great chef, he is probably not the fittest specimen on the block and he is likely to be hiding some other personal foibles too embarrassing to share with you even now. And sometimes, when he smiles, he is not smiling at you. There is nothing wrong with that.

There Is No Such Thing As Coincidence

If however you choose to love the Divine Being, the Celestial Lord, the One-and-Only-and-No-Other God Almighty, you can safely assume that if you catch the smile of God, it was certainly meant for you. For God does nothing without purpose, and there is nothing coincidental at all about Him and His actions.

Need We Choose?

Must we choose between mortal love or divine love? I don't think so. For if you are fated to love the Unlike-Any-Other (aka God), only then will you truly encapsulate and manifest your love for the any other (aka man or woman). Love for God is the championship of championships of love, The Nulli Secundus (Second to None) of romance, the Rolls Royce of intimacies and the Moby Dick of affections. 

Layla & Majnun is an ancient tale, but you can join the story at any time, sunshine.

Think about it.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

A Moonlight Illuminating Syawal

159. A Moonlight Illuminating
Am I Majnun,
The yearning,
The lover?

Or am I Layla,
The night,
The sought?

Or am I,
In truth,
Neither?

Like a moonlight
Illuminating and
Caressing the skin
Of two lovers entwined?

Anonymous save as
A silent witness in
The brief moments
That Layla and
Majnun appears
In my moonlight,

Lovers reunited
And reconciled,
Appearing like stars
Upon the Balcony of Union,
Set in the Tower of Meanings,
Which is surrounded
By the Seas of Creation,
And bathed by
A glorious moonlight
Made glorious
By the sighs of Layla
And the gaze of Majnun,

A light given meaning,
When once there was
No meaning, where once
There was no one
To bear witness and
None to understand.

Only an hour or so is left of Ramadhan, sunshine. Soon the Moon of Syawal shall be upon us. This is a prose recorded in the month of Syawal, some 3 years ago. We are all perhaps like Majnun, a dervish of love, drifting in the wilderness of our 'right' and 'wrong' conclusions. And after a long doom, we find Love beneath the tree of compassion, and we ask Love, "Lord, we are thirsty. Tired of our own reckoning... please give unto us Your mercy..."

Upon this late hour, the sinner wishes all his brethren, all the Eves and Adams, all his brothers and sisters in the unity of worship of the One God, Eid Mubarak!

Pax Taufiqa

Layla and Me - Prose of Ramadhan Part 13

How would it be, If I was all alone in this world,

Save for Layla and me? (Ramadhan Verses #10)

I waited for my son to sleep,

Until I too fell asleep,

Only to awake to Layla

Calling me as she sighed her yearning

In the nightly drizzle and her breath

Opening and shutting the door

Of my bedroom which I leave

Open for her, and only her.

I slipped away from Mikhail in repose

And disposed of my attachments,

To walk into Layla’s embrace -

The darkness of the night,

The stillness of her face,

Feeling only her words

Enveloping me,

And her tears falling

Unto my skin as rain.

I stumble for words

But only this question remained,

How would it be,

If I was all alone in this world,

Save for Layla and me?

I waved goodbye to Iqbal

Who saw me in my

Nightly wandering

With my unseen

Host.

And I returned to Layla,

Walking into her twilight tears

Into the sight of Her delight,

And shyly, I drew my shirt aside

To expose my right shoulder

To her rain and her wind,

As the Prophet once did,

But me as a courtier,

In service

Of my loving Queen.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

If My Heart is Stone Cold, Burn Me, Layla...

16. Whatever Mould
O’ Layla,
If my limbs have withered,
Heal me, that I may come to thee,
Walking or crawling.

And If my heart is stone cold,
Burn me, that I may melt into
Whatever mould that thou may hold.

This is what I call an uncommented poem. So I better stop now before my non-comment amounts to a comment of sorts.

Have a beautiful day, sunshine - and may each of us find our Layla.

Pax Taufiqa.

The Servant and the Master, Rumi and Abdul Qadir Geylani

PARK HERE. Many eminent people park their cars in the multi-level car-park of my soul, but two names often appear on the bumper stickers - Mevlana Jalaludin Rumi and Shaykh Abdul Qadir Geylani (note that spellings of their names differ according to the book / website that you are reading). They are revered as saints and masters of the Path (Tariqa).

ASK FOR A MASTER. I never did, but a friend of mine, Ranaz once said, “O’ Taufiq. I made a good bargain with God. God always asks us to pray to Him for help. Well last night, I asked Him to find me a true Master. A Man of God who will help and guide me through this world. If God does grant my wish, well and good, but if He doesn’t, He cannot very well then blame me if I fail to stick to the straight and narrow, right? I have got all the bases covered!”.

JALALUDIN RUMI. The great master was once reputed to admonish a seeker who was traveling to see Shaykh Abdul Qadir Geylani. “No, No, don’t go to that shaykh. Stay with me! Stay with me!”

SHAYKH ABDUL QADIR. This sublime master once said, “Whoever doesn’t have a master, I will be his / hers!” He is yours, you know. The default Shaykh. Hehehe.

.

Initially, I rather thought Shaykh Abdul Qadir to be an exponent of tough love. Being the coward that I am, I therefore ran to Rumi, only to find him a little err… dramatic for my taste. Hehehe. So now I bounce like a beachball between one and the other. I am no scholar though. I have never finished reading any compilation of Rumi’s work. Others however appear unable to get enough of this fellow’s prose. In 2002, Time Magazine named him the best-selling poet in the western hemisphere. Wow. Dead for centuries and still shooting arrows of love into the hearts of man.

OKAY, SERIOUSLY SERIOUS. The sinner here wishes to apologise. Firstly, for making jokes that isn’t funny, and secondly, for the flippant writing about topics, that let’s face it, are seriously serious, like religion, soul, life, hope, hubris, hate, mankind, prophets, saints, love and God. I write with levity and humour (well, my idea of humour) because my day job is a lawyer and draughtsman. I have legally serious terms coming out of my Wazoo. Nuances, definitions and interpretations of words are my bread and butter. My battlefield lies in statutory meanings, and customary usage of words. By my pen I try to bring a little certainty into the tumultuous world of commerce and contracts. It can get tiring. It is my daily relief therefore, to be able to write what I write here. 6 years ago, worn and world-weary, this sinner wrote…

167. World Weary
World weary,
The mind becomes numb,
And because it considers itself superior,
It feigns deafness to the good advice,
And exhortations of the heart.

The heart, unbowed, unbroken,
Takes its sustenance from a fountain
In the heart of a Shaykh,
Who draws sustenance
From the heart of Muhammad,
Who in turn, drinks from
The Fountain of Divine Presence,
Beyond which there is no further
Drawing or taking that we are aware of.

And Allah knows best.

YOU HIT THE JACKPOT. If you do come across a bona fide master, good for you! He will speak your name and you will think that no one has ever spoken your name in such a beautiful voice. Never have you heard your name sound so appealing… so beautiful. If people do not understand this relationship that you shall have with him, do not worry. It is your path, and only the master would understand what actually transpired…

8. The Observer
The man observed
The long line of devotees
Waiting outside the Master’s cottage.
Each entered. And in time
Each one left the cottage.
The observer approached everyone and queried;
“Are you happier now that you have met him?”

All in their turn answered, “Nay, we were mistaken.
He is not the one. He cannot help us.”

After awhile, the man left,
Convinced that the Master was a fraud,
Though he knew not, in truth,
What really transpired
Beneath the thatched roof.

BAH! HUMBUG! What people do not understand, they become suspicious of. And perhaps a little envious. This is a common perception faced by all apprentice of love in all religion. Your critics shall say that you are stupid to place someone between you and God. They shall say that man is supposed to be a servant to God and no one else. They will say that this is innovation. They shall say all this because they forget an old wise saying… “If you cannot bow to another man, how can you bow to God? If you are not a servant to mankind, how will you ever be a servant of God?” Dear friends, the best of Masters is the best of Servants and the best of Servants is the best of Masters. That is the rule, but some people will not be able to circumnavigate their mind through this Sea of Love... Not everyone are born to be sailors, you see...

13. I am a servant II
I am a servant,
But it is my Master
That supports me,
Attending to my every need,
Knowing what is best for me,
The Guarantor of my success,
My Love, My Layla.

O’ gainsayers!
Begrudge not my happiness.

For what you call the chain of servitude,
I call home.

And what you say is your mind,
I call it a prison of self-deception.

THEM ARE FIGHTING WORDS! Hehehe. Well, do not take what I write here too seriously, pumpkin. I am after all a sinner (and, OH God… a lawyer too!). But you, who are bright and fresh like a boiled egg, you would see better and travel further along the spiritual path to God. My only hope is that wherever you find yourself, perhaps atop some peak of guided enlightment, you will not forget this old sinner. You will write me a postcard, yes? .

Have a good day, sunshine. Meow.

Pax Taufiqa.

Rumi, the Wedding Carriage of Love and Vows on the Day of Promises

Death, the Wedding Carriage of Love

.

Upon birth I became engaged with Love,
And my life has become a journey
To accumulate a dowry
Fitting for her
Although beset as I am
By a world who
Is doing her best to
Supplant my fiancé.

So if you find me one day
Ill and slipping fast,
Wash me, pray over me
And dress me in
A virgin white robe
That they call a shroud,
For even though my Love
Is well aware of my many transgressions
And countless broken vows,
She has not once broken her vows to me,
And still desires our union despite
Me being clearly a poor match
To her Splendid Beauty…

So do not grieve, my friend
When you see my wedding carriage
That they call Death come
To take me away to her, for
I am only finally concluding
A consummation long sought!

… and grieve not for yourself, my friend!
For if Love desires me still,
As a sinner and degenerate soul that I am,
How more would she desire you?

How I wish for a moment to be like you,
And just for once in my life
Show my Love just how much
I am in Love with her,

To be the suitor that
Love truthfully deserves...
.......................

"We do not glorify death, we glorify love!", was the accompanying whisper of Rumi that followed the writing of Death, the Wedding Carriage of Love. A second advise arrived this morning, "Do not look for what is certain, which is death - but what must be chosen, which is love". And finally, I remembered an earlier comment, "Those who desire death does not know the true value of this life but those who desire Love, understand the true value of life and death."

"If you know the world is to end tomorrow, and today you intended to plant a tree, plant it!" , the Prophet once said.

It is a cool Wednesday morning here in Kuala Lumpur. I have tummy pains from my inconsiderate consumption of chilli last night. Transcendental prose is nice and interesting, but I wish I had an indigestion elixir right this very minute. "Ahh.... once a sinner, always a sinner!" says Rumi.

Hehehe.

.

But you, my friends - you are the gentle light on my eyes and a cool balm of my heart. How I wish to be like you, and love Love as Love truthfully deserves. Alas, I cannot be you. I am me.

.

But when we met earlier on the Day of Promises, you promised me that you shan't leave me, and that you shall always be patient with me. I remember what you said, and I will hold you to your vows... Do you think that on the Day of Promises, vows were made only between God and man?

.

Take care, sunshine.

.

Pax Taufiqa.

A Layla Majnun Exposition No.5

9. Majnun #1
Don’t speak of yourself that way,
The worst of you has no meaning to me,
How can it be?
When right or wrong,
I have loved you all along.

Don’t speak of our past that way,
For the past is an ocean deep with meaning,
And how else can it be?
For I would not trade the pain,
I would dare endure the ocean again
Than to lose what I have found in you,
My grey sunless sky,
My twilight star,
The sun that set in my heart
And blinded my eyes.
My Layla,

So please, don’t be so cruel,
And speak of her so callously,
For seasons have come and gone,
And the nights have grown shorter,
Yet she lives in me still,
Growing larger and larger.
Till I cannot comprehend
Where my Layla begins
And Majnun ends.

If there is black and white in you,
Then let me be a pawn on your chessboard,
If there is right and wrong in you,
Then let me be in your left hand
To do as you wish,
And let me be in your right hand
To do as you wish.

Oh, Layla
Can you not see?
Sadness seems meaningless,
Goodness all empty,
When with thee,
I am without.

So say not that Majnun knew Layla in her worst,
Rather say that Layla knew Majnun when he was blindest,

Layla Dearest,
Though the wind has taken our acorns
And our hopes tilled on different fields,
At least let my tree
Grow tall and strong
To shade yours,
Wherever yours may be.

Then cut me down,
Timber, branch and burning brand
And take me as kindling
To your magnificent inferno,

For no burning flame
Have I stoked
And no consuming love
Have I found,
Better, greater
Than Thee.

....................
(From chapter 20 entitled 'Raindrops'. Circa 2005)

The earlier postings on the lovesick Majnun and the love-candle they call Layla can be clicked here; A Layla Majnun Exposition No.1, No.2, No.3 and No.4.

I think the prose speaks for itself. No commentaries offered. Take your interpretation and follow it wherever it may lead you. Have a wonderful journey, sunshine.

Pax Taufiqa

A Layla Majnun Exposition No.4 (The Wedding Carriage)

28. The Wedding Carriage
All this day I ask, shall I wait for You to say, "I do"?
For You to say, "I accept"? For You to say, I love you"?
For You to bind Yourself to our vows in perpetuity?
Or shall I press my suit on You come what may.
O' Layla! Blindness has blinded me and my eyes only follow
The grooves on my heart left by the wheels of our Wedding Carriage.
Where are You leading me? Where shall my journey end?
How long shall I cry, 'Layla, Layla!" to Your receding vision?
Stay Your carriage but awhile and marry me, be it by a layside!

The reply:
O' careless Majnun! Hear me;

My vows to you precede your vows to Me,
My love of you is greater than your irresolute passions for Me,
And lo! It is I Who is the Pursuer, not you,
But it is you who has led yourself astray desiring something other than Me!

And My Vision doesn't diminish save for those who, I say again, desires something other than Me!

O` Majnun, understand what I say, for love without understanding is a flute that renders songs, But they are all desperate and sad, and do you really think I am one wont to keep My lover in despair?

...........................................

From chapter entitled 'What is in your basket', completed 31st May 2005

This Saturday afternoon, warm and balmy has found me weary but contented. We speak of love so freely, you and I. We make our solemn vows of fidelity and honesty so smoothly. But do we even understand what we say? Islam means 'surrender' or 'submission'. But to submit to what?
.
Submission to God, submission to Love, submission to Mercy. This is not a straightforward matter as it appears to be. For submission means permitting God, as Love and Mercy to define who we are. But too often, it is we who lead ourselves astray, and instead of allowing God to define us,... alas it is we who begin to define God.
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Then we fall into the trap of discord, when our definitions and dictionaries do not gel with the terminologies of other people. Leading to conflict, sorrow, despair.
.
As Layla says, if you really know me, you would never despair.
.
Despair is not a sign that there is something amiss in this world. Despair is an indication that there is something amiss in you.
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Let us search for Love together. Let us take this path. Let us reject the road to enmity and despair. That is not what was promised to us, my friend. Come. Love is waiting, and I cannot make this journey alone.
.

Pax Taufiqa.

A Layla Majnun Exposition No.3 (Durham Cathedral, England)

184. Cathedral of Beauty

If Layla had not sent Majnun to guide us,

How long would we stray still in the temples of lesser devotions,

Never to set foot in the Cathedral of Beauty?

............................................................

From the 1st Chapter entitled Dam.SunSun.Ana (circa 2004)

I studied in the UK from 1991 to 1995, in Leeds and later pursuing my Bar exams in London. To my lasting regret, I didn’t visit Durham Cathedral, a place of piety and beauty adored by my favourite travel writer, Bill Bryson in his book entitled "Notes from a Small Island”.

I am resting my oars awhile here, by the banks of the Layla and Majnun, a river I often paddle and play in. No talks of the worries of this world today, only of love and beauty. That sublime nectar in the flower of God that sends bees like us mad. People will say we are in an asylum, but we say we are in the Lord's Cathedral of Beauty.

Have a nice day, sunshine.

Pax Taufica

.

P/S See: -

A Layla Majnun Exposition

A Layla Majnun Exposition No.2

I am a Congress of Atoms

I am a congress of atoms,
Called upon to bear witness
Upon the Creator of atoms,

Once before, my atoms
Were formed to be very
Different things and persons,
Part of a tree perhaps,
Or a flaming fountain
Of a distant star,
Or a wavering wave
Of an ancient lake.

Then as now, my atoms
Continue to form and unform
In many trillion ways
As my Lord may
Infinitely dream,

And only my soul
Is real, living and
Possessing life
For a brief
Moment.

I am my Lord’s dream
In this world of form,
As you are.

If we talk then,
Is it mere words
You hear through
The reverberations of
Molecules in the air?
If we kiss then,
Is it merely pressure
That you feel upon
Your nectar lips?

I look into your eyes then,
But is it merely light that
I see reflected in them?

I have seen eternity,
I have spoken without speaking,
And our lips interlocked
In an ocean of honey stolen
From the bees of paradise,
So do not ask me anymore, o’ love,
Whether I love honey or not.
For we are all lost in God
And His Thoughts.

................................................................

Another prose recorded in October 2009, in the chapter entitled 'How Beautiful Love is'.

Me a Ghost!? ....NEVER!

208. Shakespeare
The world is at best a stage
For ghosts, shadows and imagination.
A path that may take you far inland,
Or return you home to the Ocean.

2. Layla’s ghost
I thought I was tangible,
I thought I had meaning,
I thought I was a lover,
Ruling with the heart of a king.

I now know
I am none of the above,
I am but a ghost,
A vagrant amongst the living.

..............................................................

From the chapters entitled 'The Dam.SunSun.Ana' and 'These Words', and posted here in response to my dear friend, Feisal Bajrai's question (via Facebook) to an earlier posting. So you see, Feisal, my conscience is quite prepared to be a ghost to God's True Reality. But my ego doesn't want to be some silly intangible ghost! My ego is NOT prepared to play a minor role... It wants to be the Real Thing!

Stupid stubborn ego.

Help!

A Layla Majnun Exposition

I am foretold, o’ Swallow

In this love for you,
I am foretold of a joyous union,

But Layla,
I am besotted by you only in separation,
Whereof am I to love you…
Sunken in a deep ocean
Where there is only you and no other?

Not for myself do I sing;
That nothing brings me pleasure
Than to be separated from my love
And to behold her,…
The Sun of my days
The Moon of my gladness
The scent of her Beauty found,
In a secret garden of Roses.

.......................................................................

(No. 9 from the chapter entitled 'Tiramesu'. I must have been feeling good when writing this.)

The Song

I am the song spun from the beaks of nightingales,
I am the sonnet in the gurgling of little brooks,
I am the cymbals in the crashing of waves,
The drums in the thunder,
The woodbine of the wind,
The oboe in the breeze.

I am the voice of life in the orchestra of life,
And I am also the silence of the night.

I am the verse and melody of Majnun’s prose,
And My Composition is most persuasive,

If you would but listen!