Diwan al-Layla wal-Majnuun: a poetic tale of love by nashid fareed-ma'at - HTML preview

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48.

 

majnuun took a moment

to reflect on the young man’s words

he then smirked

“you know not the perils you ask for

‘tis better to retreat before it’s too late

misery may look sweet from afar

or when bore in moderation

but my cup boileth over immensely

only the most foolish of fools

would ask to sip of it

 

“besides

how can i take one under my wing

when i myself am penniless and naked

this wilderness of desert

is not filled with fruits and water

or soft places to offer sweet slumber at night

nor am i one for much conversation

solitude is my scepter and my crown

 

“my best advice is that you return home

receive this gem of wisdom

to protect you from needless suffering

a precious reward for your troubles

add not more to your toils

trust the value of my counsel

without having to experience the travails

which will prove its great worth”

 

salaam refused to be turned away so easily

“if nothing more

since i am a foreigner from a distant land

you must accept me as your guest for three days

without question”

 

there was a silence

salaam maintained a firm look

majnuun weighed whether to consent

to this custom regarding guests

it was, after all, a human custom of arabia

and he, as his company affirmed,

was now more of the wild than human

 

finally,

he waved his hand as if to indicate

the choice was salaam’s to make

a choice already made by something greater

that we frame in our concepts as destiny

 

salaam dismounted to celebrate

he pulled out an assortment of treats

and spread them out on a cloth

“come,

let us mark the occasion

with sweets to please the tongue”

 

“such delicacies do not appeal to me

who constantly abides in fasts”

 

“you are too hard on yourself

one with a genius like yours

should be well nourished

after all,

so many are fed by your words

why should you not be fed by the world”

 

unaware,

salaam’s words pricked a nerve in majnuun

who responded sharply

“do not confuse me with your opinion of me

i seek not fame or praise

or even my own desires

the hardships of these sands

have stripped away all my wants

i am not even “i” or “me” any more

i use such language only as convention

there is now only a soul broken

and made pure for love

purer than any conceptions can realize”

 

and then,

as if out of nowhere,

from the precipice,

spun forth a verse

“love is the water that turns this millstone

love is the wind that fondles this leaf in the air

love is the current that flows through this riverbed

all motion belongs to it

all being is only it

 

“as a body dead am i,

drowned within its movement

as a ghost departed am i

the lingering of my form dwindling away

mine existence is no more

naught of me remains

confuse not appearances with what is real

for even dead things can seem alive

in this world”

 

and then,

just like that,

in an unforeseen instant,

his person returned to the stern chastisement

“if you know so much

so as to make suggestions to me

stuff your own face with your own food

and shut up!

the fact that you seek to counsel me shows

you know nothing about me

for if you knew my life

you would know

it is better to keep quiet

if you wish to have any audience with me”

 

thus, was the introduction

for what proved to be a short sojourn

the streets of baghdaad were no preparation

for the brutality of the untamed desert

majnuun’s words proved true

there was no person of him to study or emulate

the verses came as they came

in complete, fleeting spontaneity

without any derived pattern or fixed sequence

nothing that could be followed to arrive

at the same outcome

so what was there to learn

from the non-person of majnuun

what of such fleeing spontaneity

could be studied

 

so after collecting a bunch of verses

many which would have disappeared

with their utterance

in the isolation of the desert

after such collection

the hard wilderness finally broke salaam’s mind

such that he doubted he could continue to survive

so he departed without even a goodbye

just mounted his camel and rode away

but he did not leave empty-handed

his log of these last verses of majnuun

became his gift

 

unbeknownest to all

the strands of majnuun’s earthly fate

were nearing their end

yet a morsel of his last days’ genius

found a home in the distant streets of baghdaad

salaam recited them throughout his hometown

to add to the widening collage of majnuun’s verses

dispersing throughout the universe

delectable sprinkles of love

❍ ● ❍