15

“Are you still into all that?”

Her question preoccupied him. It was not an interest as much as it was faith. He had been like a ship adrift at sea, and they had been a lighthouse shining to lead him onto the right path. Yes, the idea of salvation had been in his mind, but he had been drowning in the mire, unable to pull himself out; and even if he had managed it, he could hardly have managed to get all the mud off himself. Until he met them and discovered that this world was temporary and ephemeral: the eternal world, on the other hand, was right there, behind a delicate veil, a veil that did not need to be lifted to reveal what lay beyond it. All we must do, he had realized, is purify our souls, and then we shall see everything clearly. He would tell himself: I was bewildered; my mind was confused, and so was my soul. That man was my guide, that man who appeared to me from the other world. I needed someone to reach out their hand to me: and in our world, where everyone is chasing after their own interests, no one cares or takes an interest in others. On the contrary, they reached out their hands to me to drag me further into the mire of the world they occupied, while those on the outside envied me my wealth and position. No one thought to ask themselves what I had given up to get where I was; and even if they knew that it was my very peace of mind that I had given up, would they have cared? Would they have taken pity on me? Who cares about peace of mind when compensated with fat bank accounts? Screw peace of mind, they would say, and screw conscience as well and its incessant nagging.

He had come back from Konya a different person. It was not only his mind that had changed, but his face, his eyes, his voice. He told no one of what had happened, of the ray of light that had penetrated his heart and soul. It had catapulted him into a war, not only with his baser nature, but with everyone around him, for all roads led to a single path. Because he knew that the wars where the fiercest fighting raged were with oneself against one’s own desires, where if one won, one won everything, he was quick to cut off all ties with his former life. He quit his job, moved out of his house, abandoned the circles he had traveled in, and changed his phone number. He began to establish a new life and a new world for himself.

His trip to Konya had not been just a vacation or an experience after which he could go back to the way he was before; it had been the gateway to a new, purer world. The fireplace of faith needed to be stoked, from time to time, with the logs of purification: he sat meditating for hours at a time, alone with only God for company. His rituals of worship were conducted in a corner of his house in a seaside town, with windows all overlooking the sea and the open sky. The more of himself he liberated, the lighter and freer and happier he felt. Sufi tenets preach primarily the liberation from the self’s desires, not repressing those desires, for repression burdens the self, and the heavier the burden on the self, the body correspondingly suffers and with it the soul, which is no way to put an end to the conflict. In the end, evil will release the fetters that tie you down.

He had grown up in a moderate family, not overly religious. He had only prayed on Fridays, and that because his father made him go to mosque with him. He only fasted in Ramadan because it was impolite to be eating in public in the holy month. He had grown up hearing people saying the same old thing: “Pray or you’ll go to Hell”; “God’s punishment is terrible”; “Hellfire is waiting for you”; “You will bring God’s wrath down on your head.” These are the words that imams, families, siblings, and friends use to exhort others to obey God’s commandments; but these words did not bring him closer to God but quite the opposite. He had found himself unable to worship the Lord out of fear of punishment, but he found it quite easy to worship, speak to, and approach Him out of love. That was why, when that man had whispered in his ear, “Love God and He will love you; come closer to Him and He will come closer to you; He is the best of lovers and the closest of friends,” he had thought hard on these words and worked hard to make them come true, based on the central tenets of Sufism: obedience to God and worship of Him out of divine love, not out of fear of Him and His vengeance. Love opens all doors: it inspires worshipers to purify themselves and liberate themselves from sins and transgressions, and so it was that he found his path in love.

It was true that he had not gone deep into the Sufi orders, nor had he officially joined any order as such, but he was always reading about and researching Sufism. He was especially drawn to the Mevlevi order founded by the poet Jalal al-Din al-Rumi, better known only as the Rumi. He had written his best work in worship of the Divine Presence, where he had called upon his students and followers to listen to the melodies of a melancholy flute and dance to its tune.

When Sherif left Yasmine and went home, he found himself pulling on the wide white skirt he had bought in Konya, and putting on the tall felt hat of the dervishes. Then, to the tune of the reed flute, he spun through the kingdom of God, calling and praising the Lord, eyes fixed on the distant horizon.