“Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in these streets, and too many are the children of my longing that walk naked among these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them without a burden and an ache” Kahlil Gibran
Mountains echo the traces of the Real, the world beneath them, a trial. Prophet Moses speaks on Kohi – Toor with the Haqq and comes down to fight the Pharaoh’s of Ghaflah. The Real meets the originated human form when it soars high and He becomes inaccessible when the spirit falls low. Hence, the whole drama of life revolves around absence and presence, forgetting and remembrance. Prophet Mohammad (SAW), the finality of manifestations, the seal of the Treasure and messenger of the vision meets the Haqq on Jabal-Al-Nor (Mountain of Light). The self is immersed, draped around the cloak of love, fear and hope. The mirror of the Real realizes the unrealized, the traces of the divine names and experiences the unmanifested. Hence, mountains are the perennial witnesses of the unrevealing, the bond, the trust and the law. We all come from the mountains and remain in ecstatic longing down the planes. Mountains contain the vertical truth. The body is horizontal. This is the whole mystery of journey.
It is the contemplation what poets go through in wilderness, it is the witnessing of Being’s treasure what singers sing among mountains. All writing, all speech is the hymn on our real home, and on our real encounter with the Real. Plane markets, narrow streets and haphazard houses constrict our breasts and blacken our hearts. We are from the Immeasurable and we love expansion. When we climb mountains we open the doors of vastness within us and witness the infinity. All poetry is nothing but longing for that which remains unmanifested. Wordworth sings:
“I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats high over vales and hills
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of golden daffodils”
Yes, the daffodils are the expansion of inner gaiety. It is the unquenched thirst and taste. Sisyphus loves to climb between curse and pride and he only longs for the pride of witnessing. Jesus was taken from the depths of streets/Duniya and crucified on the altar. It was the altar which helped Jesus to witness the nothingness of the world before the self sufficient Being. When we climb mountains we all participate in the realization experienced by Jesus. All mountains are altars for those who think.
What is prayer but dhikr of the names of the Real. The witnessing of miracles; when the wind blows and ships sail. The contemplation (actualization) of Ilham (Calling) when bee’s collect secrets from the flowers. The wonder of heart, when trees sing; witnessing the breath of Rahmah. To climb mountains is akin to prayer. The people of the cave meditated in the flow of eternal now. Time becomes timeless when spirit resides in caves. The Sufis call it Basti-zaman. What is prayer but the contemplation of heart when it sings “There is nothing but God’’. The beauty of the Kalima is when it assures the burdened heart that the mercy operates in history. Yes, when it remains in silence after reciting “and Mohammad is the messenger of God”. It is the bond with the lovers that God operates in history. Mohammad SAW is the truth that God is with us. When I become the embodiment of ingratitude, I climb the mountain. I become empty and” There is nothing but God.” Mountains are the signs, a call to know one’s own predisposition.
P.S. Kashmir is not a paradise because of gardens and gardeners. Kashmir is heart of mountains and that makes the difference. Sheikh-Ul Alam meditated in a cave. The cave of meditation is the place, the soul pines for. Let us all visit to our mountains. Alone with the Alone.
The author is a Phd research scholar, Dept. of English, University of Kashmir, can be reached at aqib007javeed@gmail.com
