SPIRITUAL MEETING WITH GIBRAN

By: Shah Jamal Hashmi After a long time, I felt the deep desire hidden somewhere in the memory to meet with my old friend Gibran. He was the one who had weaved much of my speech when I learned The Language in the early stage. He was a master at playing the music of the fountains and composes a symphony with Love, Freedom, Beauty and Knowledge. He rode the winds of passion which took him to places where unseen thoughts used to dwell in harmony. I asked him once to take me there, but he was very possessive for those maidens of thought. These memories of the past, how soothing they seem and also excite the hidden desires. So I decided to pay a visit to him. Though I could vaguely recall his address, I was sure of his surroundings in the fields with a vast fountain just outside his house. When I reached Gibrans house, I was stunned with the entirely different look of his house this time. The majestic fountain was actually playing the music of the unknown. I could not believe my eyes, which I never did, but this was an unusual sight. The surrounding fields were also giving me a sense of longing, which I was a little aware of now. As I entered these fields to move towards his house at the end, a beautifully crafted cage appeared from somewhere so enormous that it closed the whole of Gibrans house surroundings and I was trapped inside. As I contemplated on sudden appearance of this cage, and interpret its meaning, I could see the beautiful hinges of this cage made of pure wisdom. No outsider could breach this strong armor. I was at ease now, I was safe. Doubt had vanished. Suddenly an unheard voice murmured in my ear Gibran crafted this cage to protect himself from man made laws. I moved and stood outside his door, the door of feeling. I knocked, and was greeted by a beautiful young lady. The sunrays which touched her cheeks were triumphantly turned into a shine on her face. She stood elegantly in front of me and exclaimed, we have been waiting for you Jamal. I had never met her before, but her face was familiar. Gibran used to tell me long tales of his Love for beauty and how it opened his eyes. He was eighteen at that time when this same lady I recognized as Selma Karamy touched his soul. The hidden truth was revealed to me now why Gibran had longed for that same Love again and again. She was smiling, interpreting the True Human Spirit into its naked self. I replied to her Selma, I know of you more than you know of yourself through Gibrans expressive words, expressing more even in its meanings. But how do you know about me? I havent been here in your presence before. She laughed and took me inside.

As I went inside, on the entrance were decorated elephants made out of pure gold, shining as if they had never been touched by any sight before. As I looked at them, they turned a bit dull. I felt ashamed, remorse filled my heart. Suddenly I saw them turning brighter again; quickly I diverted my eyes straight and concentrated on my purpose of being here. But Selma had grasped the changing colors of the Gold Elephants. What could I do, I was still young. In the middle of the large room was a feast set up, people in the rags were hovering over it. My eyes were searching for my friend, who I thought must be sitting calmly somewhere with a storm of wisdom in his Heart. In a secluded portion of the room, with sheer curtain separating them, I could see two men in whispering posture. I went straight to them, behind the curtain was seated my friend with a candle of Path burning right next to him on the table which always sparkled his longing. As soon as he sensed my presence, he got up and embraced me and bode loneliness away. He introduced me to his disciple Almustafa. Almustafa looked in a manner as if wanting me to inquire from him my hidden desire of my visit here. But I kept silent, as I had known his will of answering. I quoted his own words, In much of your talking, thinking is half murdered. Then I replied to his questioning eyes, I have a lot of questions to ask once I exchange a few words with my friend. Gibran said to me, the moment you thought about paying me a visit, I set up this congregation for you to attend. Words are not as expressive as the meaning hidden within, but I am a follower of the heart, even more of the desire hidden within. Look at these weary people, lived their miserable lives in adversity, are having the feast of their life, of hope. I could do this at the most, and nothing else. They are contented. If you want to join them, be my guest. I replied, you speak of hidden desires, then you try to confuse me between hope and longing my friend. I know you well, and you know me too. That feeling of longing for wisdom brought me to you, why should I be contented with hope. You sent Selma to greet me, were you not testing me then? Why do you test me again? Silently Gibran offered me a seat next to Almustafa and sat down on his seat comfortably.

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