Tagore Plays Rumi's Flute

TAGORE PLAYS RUMI’S FLUTE By: SHAH JAMAL HASHMI

Ah, how soothing this sound is. How enchanting and full of sensitivity. It is taking me into another world altogether. Where are these beautiful thoughts coming from in the form of Houris because of this music? Is it ‘that’ same sound, which has created such an atmosphere? Oh, look at those glasses full of ‘Love’s’ ecstatic wine. These were not here a moment ago, where have these come from? Oh, my soul, I am seeing you after a long time, where have you been hiding? And how come have you appeared after hearing this beautiful sound of music. Your appearance reveals the truth that you were kept a prisoner somewhere, from which you have been freed by the mighty power of this music. And, tell me where has my shadow gone, does it not befriend this mystic sound? Or is it that you and him are sworn enemies? I can hear this music, and am no longer lonely. Life seems to be talking to me in a secretive manner. My heart has overshadowed my mind; such is the greatness of this music. What do you think; can ever a sane person be taken over by a mere emotion of the simple heart? But this music is divine. And that who is playing it, is unknown to me. Do you know Him my soul, who is calling me with these ‘songs’? Wait, let me hear carefully. This ‘wailing’ sound. I can recall this. Yes, I heard this sound when I used to play alone in the fields. How can a wailing sound be beautiful? Only if you have a sorrowful heart. I am back in my memories, not that my memories have come back to me. Yes, I have certainly heard this music. It is that of reed flute. But who is it that has composed such beautiful music, and sings so well. Let me go to Him who plays this music, which touches the cords of my heart. It is Tagore, who loves wailing. His first song starts with the wailing of the reed-flute. And this lamentation becomes the source of happiness and wisdom till the very end. He seems to be overwhelmed by the engrossing breath, which produces such a sound. But this tune of Tagore’s music seems familiar. I have drunk this wine in a gold glass before. I have met with the same houris of thoughts before, but the most beautiful ones are not here today. It was the same time when I had met with my soul last on such a grand stage. Someone whispers in Tagore’s ears, instructs him, guides him, and shows him the true meaning of love. This same Master has lent him His own lute. Let there be no doubt that Tagore is a great musician, but certainly not a Maestro. Salieri can play Mozart’s tune, but can never create one like him. What essentially is played on the lute, is always beautiful because each hollow makes a different sound, and what can be more a glorious than all the different sounds disciplined to form ‘single’ beautiful music. Lord loves individualism, but also cooperation. Lord’s willingness of creation overcame His love for individualism. So He merged His divine quality of individualism into this creation of His.

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The wailing reed conveys this message of love. The Grand Master is coming. He will now play the lute himself, and also teach others this divine art. The Grand Master learnt this art from the Creator Himself when he was created. I sit hours in the middle of the field, meditating, while Tagore sings his beautiful songs to me. This reminds me of the time when I used to learn music from the Grand Master Himself. He taught me what was right and wrong, what is beautiful, and how to ‘make’ everything beautiful. But then, because of my disobedience, he refused to teach me anymore. But now, I find myself like Adam; find in Tagore a friend, from whom I can learn the words of the Maestro. My repentance and obedience to Tagore will certainly open the windows to my Master’s mercifulness. I can recall the songs of the Master, when Tagore sings his own. And I, feeling the great quality of Master’s songs, also make him aware at times when his voice trembles a bit. While yesterday, Tagore was singing his song to me, ‘Where art Thou my lover, why dost thou hide in the shadows?’ I told him that Master always told me that ‘Lover and Beloved were ‘one’ and ‘inseparable’. Both see from each other’s eyes, and suffer the pain, which the other suffers’. Tagore said to me, ‘ how can you say that I and your Grand Master speak of the same Lover?’ And I replied ‘does it require eyes to see that truth, or a tongue to speak of such love? It only requires a heart to feel that same love, of the same Lover.’ And he smiled. Now, Tagore was losing his consciousness, as I had seen my Master several times when He spoke of the Beloved. And He used to call it ‘Sema’. So, Tagore being in the same ecstasy, started to sing another song, “my song has put off her adornments, she has no pride of dress and decoration. They will come between thee and me and mar our union. Their jingling would drown thy whispers.” Now this, I told him, was the same thought that my master gave to me, when He said, “there is no room for two in my house, and neither is there enough food for two. Come inside if you come as ‘myself’”. Again, Tagore gave a smile. And I, not being a good ‘Mind’ reader (but only heart), could not comprehend the meaning hidden within. Both of us drank the wine from the crystal glasses, which Tagore had brought along with him. Though it was two of us, still we could feel the presence of the Maestro, and also our Beloved. Today, again I am sitting in the field, and in my vertigo I can hear the sound of the lute. It seems to be the Maestro playing Himself; such is the grandeur of the tune. Is it really the Grand Master? Has he returned? Oh, my soul, blessed be my life, which is honored again to receive the blessings of my Master. And look at Tagore, following Him, learning to play the same tune, but unable to keep up the momentum of music with the Master. Though Tagore’s tune takes me into another world, but my Grand Master’s words bring Paradise to me. My grand master once said to me, ‘this world’s a children’s game, and how can anyone be called an adult until he leaves the children’s play’. Tagore said the same thing in these words, ‘ a child who wears silken clothes and gold ornaments, loses all joy in his play’. Both speak of the same reality, Tagore carrying forward the message of Grand master.

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Behold O humankind, Rumi has come. He has come to transform all of you from humans into a part of your Lord. To become a part of your Lord, you have to ‘Believe’ yourself not His creation, but His lover. The moment you turn into a true lover, you cease to be His creation, but His ‘Partner’. A partner without whom a circle would be incomplete, even if that part were only a millionth dot. Rumi has come with a reed flute in his hand, with Tagore coming right behind him, trying to follow the steps of the Grand Master, but his feet are smaller than the Maestro’s. They are singing the songs of love. Rumi has made the wailing reed flute to sing the songs of ‘Love’, which has dissolved the sorrow it received when it was separated from the reed bed. But why does Tagore look so weary? Is he tired of playing the difficult tunes on the flute, which my Master is playing so swiftly? If not then why is he singing this sad song “bid me farewell, my time has ended. We were neighbors for long, but I received more than I could give. The summons have come to take me on the eternal abode”. He is mistaken. He is giving his failure a final approval. Rumi does not speak in the same manner. He says “we are tasting the taste of eternity this moment”. Further, Rumi denies the existence of death in his sweet love song in these words, “How can a part of this world, leave this world. Can water leave wetness”? Look where Tagore is headed. How magnificent this carriage is which has come to take him away. The hands of none other than the Creator Himself created it. Beloved has bestowed such honor upon His lover. Oh my dear soul, could you answer my question which my mind is unable to comprehend, ‘why has this glory not been bestowed upon Rumi, who in all aspects is a greater lover, and he is still walking alone, bare feet.’ What is it that you are whispering to my heart, my soul? Let me meditate a while. As Rumi says, ‘when the grapes are put in isolation and a dark place, and are fermented, like a person in meditation, they produce a taste beyond imagination.’ Dear heart, what has my soul told you about Rumi? Heart replies, “Soul has revealed to me that Beloved lives inside Rumi; he does not require any magnificence to be bestowed upon him. Tagore was always waiting for his meeting with his Beloved when he said ‘I have spent my time in stringing and unstringing my instruments. I hear your footsteps, but this meeting is not yet.’ But Rumi always said; ‘when You are with me, we stay up all night. When You are not with me, I cannot go to sleep.’ Rumi also said ‘my heart is burning with love, all can see this flame. I am drunk with the ecstasy of Love.’ And beloved has called Tagore ‘Now’ to taste that wine, after which he will realize the charm of walking bare feet.” Tagore has gone, but just to come back. When he returns, he will have a lute of his own. Master will not let him play on His flute. But the tune both play, will be the same.

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