Separation

By absence Thou art making my face pale as gold: do not so. When Thou withdrawest Thy countenance, the moon ist darkened grief; Thou art intending the eclipse of the moon’s orb: do not so. Our lips become dry when Thou bringest a drought; why art Thou moistening mine eye with tears? do not so. My lawless eye is a thief of Thy beauty, oh Beloved, Thou tak’st vengeance on my thievish sight: do not so.

Rumi, Who suddenly had become mad in the exhaltation of union, now became mad with the grief of separation. For over a year He suffered deeply in His Master’s absence.

From time to time He would send communications pleading for His Master’s return, but to no avail. At last He sent His son, Sultan Walad, to Damascus – where the Master was residing – to try and persuade Shamas-i-Tabrez to return.

Upon His son’s departure, Rumi said to him:

Begone, oh friend, and bring that Friend by persuasion – and otherwise if you deem fit. Begone forthwith and come back with that evasive Beloved. If He holds forth a promise to come at another time, be not deluded and be not deceived. Bring that resplendent beauty to my (dark) abode by sweet pretexts and softly spoken words.

Rumi’s former students, for their part, became repentant and promised Jalal-ud-din not to stand in the way should the Master return:

We are (sincerely) repentant, be Thou compassionate, if we repeat our mistake, may we be accursed. Although we committed sins in frivolity, extend to us Thy forgiveness.

Sultan Walad succeeded in his mission. By his father’s orders he walked back while Shamas-i-Tabrez rode on horseback. Who can describe Rumi’s joy at seeing His Master’s return?

Once again His heart revolved around the beautiful form in which God was manifest in all Glory. Submerging Himself totally in the Master, He exclaimed:

I am so much filled up with my Master that I have forgotten what is my name, whether He is in me or I am in Him; I cannot differentiate.

However, Jalal-ud-din’s students once again fell prey to their old malady. Like a cancer it swelled up in their hearts. How could they accept Shamas-i-Tabrez, Whose views conformed only to Truth and not to orthodox bigotry – and Who had formed their own respected teacher into His own image? Their ill will flared up beyond any bounds, and at this time Shamas-i-Tabrez mysteriously disappeared.

Some said He had been murdered – it is stated that He was flayed alive –, but Rumi said:

Who dared say that that Immortal One met His death? Who dared say the Sun of hope has set? Lo! an enemy of the Sun came up to the roof, closed his two eyes and exclaimed the Sun had set!

It is said that He graciously rewarded anyone who said that Shamas still lived.

One day a traveller told Him that he had seen Shamas-i-Tabrez in Damascus. Rumi joyfully took His robe and gave it to that man. A friend of Rumi protested that the man had just lied in order to please Him.

Rumi replied:

Had I believed the news to be true, I would have given him my life, not my robe!

He went to Damascus and asked from house to house for news of Shamas-i-Tabrez.

The whole of Damascus was surprised that He Who was considered to be such a Great Man was searching for Him Who was considered a nobody.

In despair, Rumi cried,

How long will I search for You from door to door? How long will You evade me from corner to corner and from alley to alley?

As it was, Rumi was never to see that blessed physical form again; and so that story was ended.

But from within He was called back to fulfill His commision to give mankind baet, initiation, into the sublime mysteries of Shugal-i-Naghma-i-yazdani – the Divine Sound Current of God.