Following a soft negotiation of price with the rickshaw driver, I finally had initiated my way back home from the Time to Help foundation. Next to a quick introduction of our names, the driver asked me where I was from. I smiled at him. It was an easy-to-answer question for the majority of people, but not for me.

I was born in Russia, but my family left the country when I was only two; so I don’t remember much to feel part of it.

Perhaps I could say India, as I had lived my childhood within its peculiar, sweet but dirty, and adaptable environment. I saw clean walls filled with images of deities adjacent to walls filled with human excrement. I made friends who were Hindu, Christian, Muslim, or Jain. My friends taught me the language that is spoken by nearly 1/3 of the world. I also sang the national anthem with pride in every assembly. “Where there is love there is life,” says Mahatma Gandhi. The colors that covered everywhere in the “Holi” celebration were the clear message of love and joy lived by the people of India. I simply had been part of the “Bollywood” of the world. The Bollywood where I lived my childhood, gained my patience from its traffic, and celebrated diversity from its people and culture.

Yet, I could not ignore what was written in my passport and I could not ignore my parents, who raised me with the language and values of Turkey. The majority of the books I read when I was a child were in Turkish. I learned about Turkey by listening to Turkish songs, reading Turkish literature, and on top of all I spent a full month every year in Turkey, which gave me a chance to observe the country with first-hand experience. I have therefore socialized within a modified and extended family. Turkey was not a place where I felt at home to the fullest, however the importance of all these past experiences were revealed following the coup attempt of 2016 since which we no longer could visit what my father used to call our “place of rehabilitation.” Thus, my visits to Turkey temporarily ended.

For a moment, I looked at the driver as he was in the middle of a phone call. The loud African music playing behind me reminded me of the fact that I have been living here in Tanzania for 6 years now. As Turkey was waning from my annual calendar, I thought to myself, “Hakuna Matata.” Tanzania had been where I had built a character and made hundreds of friends in schools, orphanages, on streets, and with rickshaw drivers such as Emmanuel sitting in front of me. The smile on the faces of little orphans when I speak to them and play soccer with them has been part of my favorite experiences in life. The day I tried to dance like those children had placed me into the rhythm of their tradition and culture. I learned the true meaning of benevolence and gratitude as I observed the joyful moments of villagers approaching their water well when it was filled with a pure water supply, or orphans who untie their gift boxes in extreme excitement. I learned that true satisfaction was found through serving others. I learned that life could be sincerely enjoyed only when one would explore himself or herself. Life was, indeed, different in the eyes of each individual. I saw many of those vulnerable people becoming only “happier” than they used to be, while many people in wealth have lots to complain about. This relation had always enhanced my curiosity over psychology. I always felt that I had to understand myself, my existence, and my own sense of being before trying to benefit others. In Tanzania, I developed an ambition; an ambition of living, so that others may live.

I suddenly regained my consciousness as the driver threw a glance at me, still waiting for a response. I looked at him and answered “Natoka Tanzania siku hizi” (I am from Tanzania these days), and watched him, as he was laughing, in satisfaction of making someone happy at least for some part of his day.

they set out for eternity

And wherever the journey led, they carried their gift of radiance.

Gleams of Beauty unfading so entranced their souls,

they heard at night in their dreams angels

singing of bliss and the music of other worlds.

More enchanted, more earnestly they searched in every place, and

yearned for their homeland

the dream of a beloved of matchless excellence, hero or saint or both.

Without pause, they strove on in high, passionate hope;

some mysteries of life they unraveled

as they journeyed apace, and at last obtained the promised happiness.

Lovers of the Light are pledged to a long journey, its end Unseen:

the very roads are proud upon which they journey:

the rhythm of their surging on is Certainty,

and their rank as slaves of the King.

Whoever disdains that rank, disdains his own good fortune,

Exchanging hope for a regret everlasting:

he shall not attain, not ever,

the further horizon of all that is.

Only passionate lovers of the Ideal,

may behold that far horizon,

eternity itself impressed upon their faces,

their names rehearsed in hymns of praise.

They desire life reborn only to be martyred again,

hearts forever surrendered to the Light,

forever remembered in our hearts.

They raise now light-filled eyes,

in their hands translucent beakers held aloft, at ease,

filled to their brim from rivers of Paradise.

Another man of letters discussed in this issue is from a neighboring literary nation to that of Aytmatov’s: Dostoyevsky. From his masterpiece Crime and Punishment, Alice Bolton produces a thought-provoking analysis of nineteenth-century “human-centered theories and movements that would be implemented later in the twentieth century.” This piece sheds a bright light on why we continue to have violence at all levels of human existence and how such bloody atrocities, which most of us cannot even stand to hear of, can easily be perpetrated by some people. For those of our readers who would rather focus on the spiritual than the criminal, Bolton’s conclusion offers a comforting solution: “The repair of the human soul is possible only through a return to the Absolute Being.”

Another heart-expanding analysis comes from Mesut Sahin who discusses how we can come to an understanding of suffering in the world that is in agreement with God’s Mercy. He shares with us the glad tidings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, who said, “Never is a believer stricken with a discomfort, an illness, an anxiety, a grief or mental worry or even the pricking of a thorn but God will expiate his sins on account of his patience.”

Time is adorned with the colors of divinity; people become more sociable, as if they were the peaceful residents of the world-to-come, and they are able to attain a profound awareness. Everyone hears an otherworldly poem, both from within themselves and from the hearts of all existence, and they travel at the sunrise and sunset of many fantasies and memories, expectations, and dreams. With associations that are sometimes sad and at other times joyful, the blessed three months remind us of the longing for a lost paradise and embrace us with a thrilling hope that we will be able to find it again. Memories and associations in these days, every minute of which is filled with bliss, happiness, motivation, and action, transform our feelings into a silent poem and our lives into mystical exquisiteness.

This illuminated time of the year presents various delights and spiritual pleasures to those who can appreciate its worth and value, and restores heavenly times as hearts are enlightened with spirituality, as the streets and minarets are adorned with the brightest of lamps, and faces glow with charm and elegance. The colorful lights of this time shine at various wave lengths, the comforting atmosphere of its delicate breeze echoes manifestations of the present time and enchants all in its direction, permeating those of us who have reached an understanding of the belief, Islam, the mosque, and the prayer, preparing us for knowledge and love of God, and spiritual pleasures.

As we live through this golden phase of the time each year, we feel as if we are once again experiencing those pleasant and joyful heavenly days, which are true life itself. Once again, spring pervades the vision of our hearts and life pours out from every location; the countryside flourishes, verdant and cheerful with a multitude of colors, flowers dance and nightingales sing . . . and our emotions burn as if enflamed by roses and tulips. The prevalent ambiance inspires us with a promise of happiness and whispers to us about these unique and exclusive emotions. Even those ill-fated individuals whose lives are locked up in cynicism and gloom benefit from this divine celebration. The days strike those hours of prayer like a plectrum on the wires of the hearts, playing the real meaning of life. A poem starts as the call to prayer is heard in as much purity as in the singing of birds and in the joy of children . . . a poem of prayers as impressive as the beauty of heaven and as complete and mature as a heart which is in love with that beauty . . . a poem of feelings overflows our bosom with praise and reflection in a mode where we are both an addressee and an addresser to God at one and the same time. And then the veils on the face of existence are removed; we are blessed with special peaceful moments of satisfaction of being near to God. Five times a day we tour around a spiral of light, go through times of heavenly ascension, and dream of being a perfected human. 

The Four Holy Nights

Raghaib, Mi‘raj, Bara’a, and Qadr

The calendar may indicate the beginning of Rajab as being on a different day each year, but the blessed three months actually start on the first Thursday evening of Rajab, with a most-welcomed divine grace. Raghaib, the Most Desired, is the first night that stimulates our feelings, preparing them for holier days to come.2 Almost three weeks later, Mi‘raj, the Night of Ascension, comes along, as the creak of the heavenly doors opening wide is heard and the divine breezes for those determined souls can be felt. Bara’a, the Night of Salvation (or Record), calls out to the enthused and watchful ones with good tidings of salvation. And finally the Qadr, the Night of Power, embraces us with forgiveness, mercy, and a blissful prosperity that is beyond imagination and which can only be obtained after an effort of a thousand months.

Days and nights continue one after the other, spreading out a sweet and tempting tenderness for believing hearts. Each day comes along with a brightness and dynamism and pours down on us abundant blessings. After the sun sets at the end of the day, a fantastic morning follows . . . a new, quiet morning with every kind of beauty, a morning that weaves original motifs in the hearts of the wise.

RAJAB

Those of us who are on full alert with prayers, supplications, and glorifications within the month of Rajab, attain a pure pleasure of a wonderful spectacle. Everyone speaks in an elevated manner and style; a majestic look, awe for the divine, and the joy of hope is on our faces. Communication between each and every individual is established through the medium of the heart, improper behavior decreases, and people unload all their worldly burdens and rise to spiritual joy as if on an Ascension. The splendor overflowing from their souls and the colorful refinement on their faces reach such lofty levels that they can soften even the most hardened of hearts and extract elegance from them.

Nights evolve into a mystical form and inspire brilliant thoughts as Rajab begins. Each moment becomes a gateway to the divine and infuses us with hope and heavenly fancies, appealing to our desire for the infinite. Our silent feelings are awakened and remarkable thoughts of happiness are voiced in an extraordinary expression.

SHA’BAN

Sha’ban, or “Shahrullah al-Muazzam” (The Great Month), as it is frequently called, is felt with a pleasure suffused into the entire existence and our inner selves. Our hearts incline toward a hope, an expectation, and joyful beauty. Sha’ban is like a magical tune that captivates those who seek shelter across the horizons of mercy, like a mother hugging her child in a most compassionate manner. During this month it is as if time has been shattered and our feelings welcome blessings from worlds unbounded by time. In the course of the illuminated moments and profound perception of Rajab, everyone goes through a reality; it is as if they were to take one step further they would be elevated up to Heaven on a magical stair. And these moments introduce us to the exhibition of our hidden desires that pertain to infinite existence.

RAMADAN

Ramadan appears on the horizon with its unique warmth and charm; our conscience becomes vigilant and awake. Crowds pour into the mosques and from thereon walk toward Our Lord. Ramadan strengthens spiritual connections and other-worldly desires. Believing hearts acquire greater enthusiasm with love and yearning. Ramadan is the most illuminated, intense, effective, and pleasant of times; it is the most significant dynamism of our religious life. The entire city becomes a residence of the other world . . . the breaths of the minarets echo in the hearts with a Qur’anic lament. Mosques glow with light and resonate with the prayers of worshippers. The joy and contentment of turning to God is felt everywhere. Praying hearts rise aloft, sharing with others all their beauty, and declaring their love in utmost privacy. They consider every night a shab-i arus3 (wedding night), as if commanded “Prepare for the union!”

Every sound during Ramadan resonates with a promise of a new start, just as every breath gives us a glimpse of a hope for salvation. Iftar dinners (breaking the fast) appear on our horizon with implications for the “grand meeting,” while whispering some secrets into our soul. Tarawih prayers (a sunna-an act conducted or recommended by the Prophet-prayer peculiar to Ramadan, observed at night) are each a pledge for our “realm of hope.” Nights open their harem gates like a coy bride and pour into our soul blessings that glow in lights of every hue. Dawns come along, echoing the high pitch of the ferry’s horn, or the sweeping by of a jet, or the blast of a rocket, and bring the good tidings of a night journey on the path to a reunion with the Friend. And finally, a long day embraces us with the first hours of this sweetest encounter in excitement, but cautious; exhilarated, but full of hope.

Life is so profound and meaningful during Ramadan that every word uttered and every sound heard is like a composition gushing out from its very core; exposed to the most fantastic tunes our feelings undergo refinement. The soul blooms in Ramadan, and dormant feelings embedded deep-within awake as we stroll around the most enchanting and wonderful dreams, filled to the bone with zeal and a yearning for ecstasy, filled with a need for reunion, and infusing us with the joy of true life.

Having achieved the attainment of the Ramadan provisions in full, everyone reaches a level of perception where they can see that the end of this illuminated, but slightly veiled, road upon which we are traveling opens to an eternal serenity for which they have always longed; here awaits much beyond what they have been granted here. They turn to Him with all their being. At each dawn and evening they sense a new gate of reunion opening, as well as the need and hope for a loftier and captivating meeting which is merely two steps ahead. They are filled with homesickness and loneliness, on the one hand, and with expectations and dreams on the other; they are enwrapped in a greater magic and drawn into the profundity of true love. They become intoxicated as they start feeling the love . . . the love around which every phenomenon in the infinite space takes place, as it does in the infinity of their hearts. Male and female, old and young, rich and poor, every individual experiences an important time of preparation in Ramadan; each in accordance with their level of perception, and from then on it is as if they are walking toward God on a road that has no end. 

Notes

1. The lunar calendar used by Muslims. The emigration of Prophet Muhammad from Makka to Madina in 622 AD marks the beginning of this calendar.
2. Raghaib is celebrated on the night preceding the first Friday of Rajab.
3. A metaphor by Rumi, portraying death as union with God, the most beloved. 

having fixed their hearts upon the Light

they set out for eternity.

And wherever the journey led, they carried

their gift of radiance

Gleams of Beauty

unfading so entranced their souls,

they heard at night in their dreams

angels singing of bliss and the music

of other worlds.

More enchanted ,

more earnestly they searched in every place,

and cherished for their homeland the dream

of a beloved of matchless excellence, hero

or saint or both.

Without let our pause

they strove on in high, passionate hope;

some perplexities of life they unravelled

as they journeyed apace, and at last obtained

the promised happiness.

Lovers of the Light

are pledged to a long journey, its end Unseen;

the very roads are proud upon which they go;

the rhythm of their going is Certainty, and their rank

slaves of the King .

Whoever disdains

that rank, disdains his own good fortune,

exchanging hope for a regret everlasting;

he shall not attain, not ever, the further rim

of all that is.

Only the lovers,

passionate lovers of the Ideal, may behold

that far horizon, eternity itself impressed

upon their faces, and their names rehearsed

in hymns of praise.

They desire life

again only to be martyred again, hearts

forever surrendered to the Light, forever

remembered in our hearts. They raise now

light-filled eyes,

in their hands are translucent beakers

held aloft, at ease, filled to the brim from

rivers of Paradise.

***