Part 1

My first encounter with Sufism was through Pakistani dramas and movies, where I witnessed

people immersed in spiritual activities at shrines, deeply involved in their connection with the

divine. One drama, "Alif," left an impression on me. It introduced me to Sufi practices like

Whirling Dervishes and explored themes of divine love and calligraphy, emphasizing the

emptiness of worldly matters. This portrayal deeply influenced me, sparking a profound interest

in the love for God.

As a child, I remember being captivated by the vivid scenes of Sufi gatherings depicted in

Pakistani dramas. In "Alif," Sufism is depicted through the journey of the main character,

Momin, who grapples with spiritual dilemmas while navigating the complexities of life as a

struggling artist. The essence of Sufism is woven into the narrative as Momin seeks answers to

profound questions about love, faith, and the pursuit of truth. Through encounters with wise

mentors and introspective moments of self-discovery, Momin gradually learns to embrace the

path of spiritual enlightenment, finding solace in the timeless wisdom of Sufi teachings.

Similarly, in "Alif Allah Aur Insaan," Sufism is portrayed through the lives of diverse characters

whose fates intersect at the crossroads of destiny. Each character undergoes a transformative

journey shaped by love, loss, and redemption, finding refuge in the teachings of Sufi saints.

Through moments of profound introspection and acts of selfless devotion, the characters come to

embody the timeless values of compassion, humility, and divine love that lie at the heart of

Sufism.

In "Khuda Aur Mohabbat," Sufism is explored through the lens of unrequited love and

spiritual awakening. The protagonist, Hammad, is a young man from a conservative background

who embarks on a quest for true love that leads him to unexpected encounters with the divine.
Through trials and tribulations, Hammad learns the meaning of faith and sacrifice, finding solace

in the teachings of Sufi saints who embody the essence of spiritual enlightenment. As he

navigates the complexities of life and love, Hammad discovers that true fulfillment lies not in

worldly pursuits but in surrendering oneself to the will of the divine.

Similarly in Indian movies, "Rockstar" and "Bajrangi Bhaijaan." I saw sufism being

displayed.In "Rockstar," there's a scene where the protagonist, played by Ranbir Kapoor, visits a

dargah (a Sufi shrine) seeking solace and guidance. The dargah is adorned with vibrant tapestries

and flickering candles, casting a warm glow over the courtyard. As the camera pans, we see

people from all walks of life, their faces reflecting a mix of reverence and hope. The air is thick

with the scent of incense, mingling with the aroma of freshly cooked food being distributed to

the devotees. In the background, the soul-stirring melody of a qawwali fills the air, transporting

the audience into a realm of spiritual ecstasy.

Similarly, in "Bajrangi Bhaijaan," there's a poignant scene where the protagonist, played

by Salman Khan, visits the shrine of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya in Delhi. The courtyard is alive

with activity, with devotees bustling about, offering prayers and seeking blessings. Colorful

chadar (cloth sheets) adorn the graves, and strings of lights twinkle overhead, casting a magical

glow over the scene. Amidst the hustle and bustle, the sound of qawwali music drifts through the

air, drawing people in with its hauntingly beautiful melodies.

These cinematic portrayals captured not only the visual splendor of Sufi gatherings but also the

deep sense of spirituality and communal harmony that permeates these sacred spaces. Through

these scenes, I gained a deeper appreciation for the richness of Sufi culture and the profound

sense of connection it fosters among its followers.

 As a child, I found comfort in the simple tunes of Sufi qawwalis like "Kun Faya Kun,"

"Tu Jhoom," "Tajdar-e-Haram," and "Wohi Khuda Hai." They filled me with a sense of peace

and made me feel connected to something bigger than myself.

Growing up, life got more complicated, especially as a teenager. But whenever I felt lost or

confused, I'd turn to these songs. They gave me clarity and a sense of purpose, like they were

guiding me through the chaos.

Listening to "Kun Faya Kun," for example, felt like letting go of all my worries. It was

like the music was saying, "Hey, it's okay to not have all the answers." And with "Tajdar-e-

Haram" or "Wohi Khuda Hai," it felt like I was being wrapped in a warm hug, safe and secure.

These songs reminded me that there's more to life than just the everyday stuff. They showed me

that there's a deeper connection waiting to be discovered, right within myself.

Later , I was introduced to the enchanting poetry of Rumi. His mystical verses captivated me,

and I vividly recall the moment I stumbled upon his work in a quiet evening at a local bookstore.

Delving into his words, I felt an undeniable sense of connection and resonance.

Part 2

In my journey of learning about Sufism, I have discovered that it's not just about

spirituality; it's also an integral part of Islam. One topic that really got me thinking in class was

about music in Islam. Growing up, I was taught that listening to music was haram. But as we

delved deeper into Sufi teachings, I realized it's not that straightforward. We pondered: Is music

truly forbidden? It was confusing because certain types of music, like Naat and qawwali, which
praise Allah with instruments, are accepted. This made me contemplate the meaning of music in

a religious context. Why is some music permissible while others are not? It is a puzzle that

prompted me to reflect on the deeper connection between music and spirituality. The Sufi music

I have been using as a tool to connect will Allah is Haram. The class addressed this issue and

through a long debate of discussion and assigned video I found myself deeply engaged as the

speaker delved into Imam al-Ghazali's perspective on music within Islamic tradition. Exploring

the historical context and the intricate nuances of al-Ghazali's teachings really opened my eyes to

the depth of Islamic scholarship.

I was particularly struck by the discussion surrounding the permissible and impermissible

forms of music, as outlined by al-Ghazali. It made me realize the importance of understanding

the spiritual significance behind music and how it can either elevate or detract from one's

connection to the divine.

The speaker's emphasis on being mindful of the content and context of music resonated

with me deeply. It reminded me of the responsibility we have as individuals to approach art

forms with intention and discernment, especially considering their potential impact on us and

society.

One significant lesson I gleaned from Sufism is the notion that we're all on a journey to

draw closer to God. This journey necessitates introspection, acknowledging our flaws, and

striving to become better individuals. Sufis achieve this through practices like meditation and

prayer.However, what struck me the most was the concept of surrender. It's not about giving up;

it's about placing complete trust in God. It's akin to wearing rough wool instead of comfortable

clothes, forsaking worldly luxuries to focus on what truly matters.

 This idea of surrender taught me to be comfortable with uncertainty and to trust that

things will unfold as they should. It's like saying, "Okay, God, I trust You've got this." And that

realization is incredibly liberating; it helps me remain calm amidst life's chaos.

When I shared my views on Sufism with friends and family, I encountered a range of

opinions. Some praised its spiritual depth and poetic beauty, while others dismissed it as a

deviation from orthodox Islam. Despite differing viewpoints, I found myself drawn to the

profound spiritual essence that Sufism embodies.Moreover, Sufism also helped me gain a better

understanding of the beliefs of people who visit shrines and participate in their festivals, which I

initially judged based on my cultural influences.

In a documentary I saw a conversation of a reporter with an elderly Sufi scholar during a

visit to a bustling marketplace in Istanbul. He shared tales of legendary Sufi saints and the

transformative power of Sufi practices. His eyes gleamed with wisdom as he spoke of the inner

journey towards divine union, igniting a spark within me to explore the mystical realms of

Sufism further.

However I was confused about “Transmotive power of Sufis”.In class it was cleared with

examples such as individuals providing healing to others by placing their feet in oil and then

applying it to the affected area. The crucial lesson here was that such acts were possible because

these individuals recited certain words taught to them by their teachers, highlighting the tradition

of passing down rituals and teachings in Sufism.

Furthermore, the classes on the origins of sophisticated Islamic architecture and mosques

have reinforced the notion that Sufism underpins the spiritual dimensions inherent in Islamic

architecture. All the magnificent mosques worldwide stand as testimonials to Sufism's teachings
and values, evident in every arch and minaret. The elaborate patterns adorning its walls are more

than just decorative; they serve as conduits for spiritual reflection, inviting worshippers to

contemplate the beauty and grandeur of the divine.

Sufism has evolved from a mere subject of curiosity to a guiding light on my journey

towards spiritual fulfillment and inner peace. And as I continue to delve into its depths, I am

reminded of Rumi's timeless words: "Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what

you really love. It will not lead you astray."