~The Man Whose Time was Wrong~

Depiction of the Ancient Circular City of Baghdad

We cannot always explain this to people. A person of faith does not have to be the King of Cordoba for his soul to be enlightened as to what is right and what is wrong in the Spirit. We sometimes come across individuals and say to ourselves (and some have said it to me, about me...a few times, not in exact words...and is probably the case now.), "I have to keep a little space between this person in the fellowship of the Spirit because of all that is going on with them and I am feeling it in the Spirit. They got to get on their deen or faith pursuit to a life, work and faith balance". In this case, the King tells his old friend “with these 100 sheep...go up yonder mountain”.

I don't always share tales. But, this is a Dervish Tale I have to share. It is about a respected man that was from Baghdad that ran into some trouble in Baghdad. He sets out for a journey to his friend and King in Corboba. In those days that was a long journey. He goes through a lot...becomes disheveled...losses his manners and etiquettes. By the time he gets to Cordoba he was so unmannerable that he could not be received into the presence of the King. So he is taken away for a time and re-conditioned on etiquettes. He is brought in to his old friend the King for help and is made a Shepherd. I have to spoil the story because his flocks die and he is is given more. This happens a few times. Then finally it happens. He is doing well. He is selling sheep. Selling wool. The sheep are reproducing beautifully and he goes back to see the King again for something and to give the news. The King, upon hearing the news, assigns him to the Throne of Seville. The man from Baghdad asked, "Why did you not send me to Seville when I first got here?" The King, responds, "If I had sent you to Seville when you first got here, it would be a pile of rubble today." It is amazing how connected to God and to the Spirit...spiritual condition of others, men and women of Faith in God were in the past...and are in the present. But a person of faith does not have to be a King to have that enlightenment in their soul about the Spirit. 

Sometimes it's like, "I am already knowing...peace be chill...until you get yourself together and get in better Spirit." [I also have to get myself together in that regard, as well.]

Interestingly enough, it was through menial work that the healing came...tending sheep that this man's spirit was lifted from an oppressed condition. [We can be oppressed in the spirit, in addition to the flesh.] But, no doubt through the combination of work and faith that the spirit was uplifted. And in our times...most cases requires study for work...so through study, as well as, recreational therapy such as art, painting, exercise, excellent nutritional practices, etc. the soul and the spirit can be healed and their condition no longer eclipsing their own potential, as well as, others of Faith. The piece is below.

Ancient Map of the Circular City of Baghdad

From the book, Tales of the Dervishes - Teachings of the Sufi Masters over the past thousand years

By Shah Idrees

~The Man Whose Time was Wrong~

Once upon a time there was a rich merchant who lived in Baghdad. He had a substantial house, large and small properties and dhows which sailed to the Indies with rich cargoes. He had gained these things partly through inheritance, partly through his own efforts, exercised at the right time and place, partly through the benevolent advice and direction of the King of the West, as the Sultan of Cordoba was called at the time.

Then something went wrong. A cruel oppressor seized the land and houses. Ships which had gone to the Indies foundered in the typhoons, disaster struck his house and his family. Even his close friends seemed to have lost the power to be in a true harmony with him, although both he and they wanted to have the right kind of social relationship.

The merchant decided to journey to Spain to see his former patron, and he set off across the Western Desert. On the way one accident after another overtook him. His donkey died;  he was captured by bandits and sold into slavery, from which he escaped only with the greatest difficulty; his face was tanned by the sun until it was like leather; rough villagers drove him away from their doors. Here and there a dervish gave him a morsel of food and a rag to cover himself. Sometimes he was able to scoop a little fresh water from a pool, but more often than not it was brackish.

Ultimately, he reached the entrance of the Palace of the King of the West.

Even here he had the greatest difficulty in gaining entry. Soldiers pushed him away with the hafts of their spears, chamberlains refused to talk to him. He was put to work as a minor employee at the Court until he earned enough to buy a dress suitable to wear when applying to the Master of Ceremonies for admission to the Royal Presence.

But he remembered that he was near to the presence of the king, and the recollection of the Sultan’s kindness to him long ago was still in his mind. Because, however, he had been so long in his state of poverty and distress, his manners had suffered, and the Master of Ceremonies decided that he would have to take a course in behaviour and self-discipline before he could allow him to be presented at Court.

All this the merchant endured until, three years after he quit Baghdad, he was shown into the audience hall.

The king recognized him at once, asked him how he was, and bade him to sit in the place of honour beside him.

“Your Majesty,” said the merchant, “I have suffered most terribly these past years. My lands were usurped, my patrimony expropriated, my ships were lost and with them all my capital. For three years I have battled against hunger, bandits, the desert, people whose language I did not understand. Here I am to throw myself on His Majesty’s mercy.

The king turned to the Chamberlain. “Give him a hundred sheep, make him a Royal Shepherd, send him up yonder mountain, and let him go on with his work.”

Slightly subdued because the king’s generosity seemed less than he had hoped for, the merchant withdrew, after the customary salutation.

No sooner had he reached the scanty pasturage with his sheep than a plague struck them and they all died. He returned to the Court.
“How are your sheep?” asked the king.
“Your Majesty, they died as soon as I got them to their pasture.”
The king made a sign and decreed: “Give this man fifty sheep, and let him tend them until further notice.”

Feeling ashamed and distraught, the shepherd took the fifty animals to the moutainside. They started to nibble the grass well enough, but suddenly a couple of wild dogs appeared and chased them over a precipice and they were all killed.

The merchant greatly sorrowing returned to the king and told him the story.
“Very well,” said the king, “You may now take twenty five sheep and continue as before”

With almost no hope left in his heart, and feeling distraught beyond measure because he did not feel himself to be a shepherd in any sense of the word, the merchant took the sheep to their pasture. As soon as he got them there he found that all the ewes gave birth to twins, nearly doubling his flock. Then, again, twins were born. These new sheep were fat and well fleeced made for excellent eating. The merchant found that, by selling some of the sheep and buying others, at first so skimpy and small, grew strong and healthy , and resembled the amazing new breed which he was rearing. After three years he was able to return to the Court, splendidly attired, with his report in the way in which the sheep had prospered during his stewardship. He was immediately admitted into the presence of the king.

“Are you now a successful shepherd?” the monarch asked. “Yes indeed, your Majesty. In an incomprehensible way my luck turned and I can say that nothing has gone wrong - although I still have little taste for raising sheep.”

“Very well,” said the king. “Yonder is the kingdom of Seville, whose throne is in my gift. Go and let it be known that I make you king of Seville.” And he touched him on the shoulder with the ceremonial axe.

The merchant could not restrain himself and burst out: “But why did you not make me a king when I first came to you? Were you testing my patience, already stretched almost to the breaking point? Or was this to teach me something?”

The king laughed. “Let us just say that, on the day when you took a hundred sheep up the mountain and lost them, had you taken control of the kingdom of Seville, there would not have been one stone standing on top of another there today.”

Further comments by the author:

Abdul Qadir of Gilan was born in the eleventh century near the southern shores of the Caspian Sea. Because of his descent from Hasan, grandson of Muhammad, he is known as Sayedna - “Our Prince”. The powerful Qadiri Order is named after him. He is reputed to have displayed paranormal powers from childhood, studied at Baghdad and spent a great deal of his time trying to establish free public education. Shahabudin Suhrawardi, one of the greatest Sufi writers, who wrote the Gifts of Deep Knowledge, was his disciple. Innumerable wonders are related about both of these men.

He had a large number of Jewish and Christian, as well as Muslim disciples. He died in 1166. As he lay on his deathbed a mysterious Arab appeared with a letter. In it was written: This is a letter from the Lover to his beloved. Every person and every animal has to taste death.” His shrine is at Baghdad.
Since Abdul Qadir is widely venerated as a saint, numerous hagiographies dealing with his life are current in the East. They are full of wonders and strange ideas.

Hayati Hazrat (“Life of the Presence”), which is one such book begins like this:
“His appearance was formidable. One day only one disciple dared to ask a question. This was: “Can you not give us power to improve the earth and the lot of the people of the earth?” His brow darkened, and he said: “I will do better: I will give this power to your descendants, because as of yet there is no hope of such improvement being done on a large enough scale. The devices do not yet exist. You shall be rewarded and they shall have the reward for their efforts and of your aspiration.””
A similar sense of chronology is displayed in “The Man  Whose time was Wrong”

It is also worth noting that there is No god except Allah, Al Qadir (The Most Powerful and Grantor of Powers) that although above the students of the Sheikh petitioned the living Sheikh or Saint like a deity it is not advisable, nor beseech them at their graves in prayer or worship.

With the photos below, I am just making note of the similarity between the Circular City of Ancient Baghdad and Apple Park built by founder of Apple, Steve Jobs. Imitation is the best form of flattery.

Depiction of the Ancient Circular City of Baghdad

Apple Park in Cupertino California, built by founder Steve Jobs. Similar to the Ancient City of Baghdad. I hope that they consider this imitation the best form of flattery. An old design made new.

I held this book by Shah Idrees for about 10 or so years...actually by accident. I got it from the library of the Masjid in Denver, Colorado called CMS or Masjidul Abu Bakr. I just mailed it back to the Masjid in Denver about 2 months ago. The book contained many tales like this. I know that Allah (swt) warns of idle tales...so I didn't get into them.