Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Lamentations of the Flute

HEARKEN to the reed-flute, how it complains,
Lamenting its banishment from its home:
"Ever since they tore me from my osier bed,
My plaintive notes have moved men and women to tears.
I burst my breast, striving to give vent to sighs,
And to express the pangs of my yearning for my home.
He who abides far away from his home
Is ever longing for the day ho shall return.
My wailing is heard in every throng,
In concert with them that rejoice and them that weep.
Each interprets my notes in harmony with his own feelings,
But not one fathoms the secrets of my heart.
…………. Mulana Jalau-D-din Rumi

What a beautiful way to begin his Masnavi Book I! The authentic mystic fiber of Rumi is exhibited in this passage. We are like the reed flute that has been transplanted from its natural home at the osier bed in some fertile river. The fertile riverbed is the cosmic realm to which we really belong. We have been reshaped into this earthly body which is so appealing that many have been captivated by its charm. It evoked many emotions in the heart of the beholder.
We are always homesick to return to the source from which we came. Though all our actions in this earthly realm is pleasing for its apparent values, the true earning in our soul is the pining for our true home.

In the Gospel of Thomas, Jesus says: “If the flesh came into being because of spirit, that is a marvel, but if spirit came into being because of the body, that is a marvel of marvels.
Yet I marvel at how this great wealth has come to dwell in this poverty.”
…….saying 29

This saying uttered 2000 years ago is the embodiment of supreme wisdom. Modern science now confirms that all matter, at its most fundamental level is energy. It is the subtle vibration that manifests itself as something we see or touch. This is similar to the inherent music present in the reed of osier bed and as Rumi says “Each interprets my notes in harmony with his own feelings,But not one fathoms the secrets of my heart”.

This is the manifestation but not the reality. Yet the inherent attribute of the reed as the harbinger of sweet melodies is always present whether it is in the riverbed as the rooted plant with insect drilled airways or in the hand of the musician, in its new embodiment as the flute. This is the marvel of marvels. The music emanates from the reed or the flute only when the spirit or air moves through it. Think a little deeply, ultimately the musician is the same.

Love to you all

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