You have been here before. Many moons ago, conspiring against the venomous bitterness of the world by splashing love all over it.
And yet, you are still here, peeking through the crisp pages of the tiny furnaces of the inked books that lonely hearts like to sit around.
You are still here, tugging at the corners of the cream coloured pillowcases as we rest our bobby-pinned heads pondering over life.
You are still here, hiding behind dusty bookshelves, inspiring all the souls who have ever touched love.
Rumi, you were the sunlit blessing to those who thought the dawn will never arrive. You still are the first light at daybreak when our lonely waits around at empty city squares for a hummingbird to remind us that love still matters, and love still happens. You are the Hummingbird.
As for me, you are that person who once distorted reality and lead me to that alternate universe where I drenched myself with self-love and the ecstasy that one could only feel after swallowing the milky way,
Or a poem whichever is more believable.
And the houses had hidden encryptions in the words that I somehow managed to decode. The air tasted delicious in that alternate universe as I kept reading the words and had my own little escapade.
1. “Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
Lightning flashed. All the walls inside of me crumbled, brick by brick, I didn’t mind.
The soft rain produced music so melancholic that I lost parts of myself with it on the street. Rumi told me that love is there wherever you are looking for only that one was choosing not to look. I, who learnt love like learning to speak out of a stutter, found my way out of it.
2. “In your light I learn how to love. In your beauty, how to make poems. You dance inside my chest where no-one sees you, but sometimes I do, and that sight becomes this art.”
If I remember clearly then I was walking, but if I remember only half-vividly through blurred visions of dewy binoculars, then I was dancing. I was dancing in the loop of eternity there in the middle of the road, shying away from the clocks wearing roman numerals and the street-lamps guarding me against the dizziness and keeping me awake. My heart felt so full and the complete sense of ‘Sufiana love’ engulfed me.
3. “Explanation by the tongue makes most things clear, but love unexplained is clearer.”
As I danced my way through the streets, I entered the fog which was the clear embodiment of love. The crickets watched me closely as I made out with the presence of what I still remember tasted a lot like iron bullets soaked in cinnamon. I felt brave.
4. “A thousand half-loves must be forsaken to take one whole heart home.”
There was something about that architecture in that place I was in which made me let go of all the heartburns. I found the pieces that I lost lying on the sidewalk, unarmed yet unharmed. I picked them and fixed them; put them on as I unjinxed them. It was okay. I felt okay.
5. “Love is the bridge between you and everything.”
Love came to me when I was asleep and love has escaped when I was wide awake. But maybe love has always been nothing but energy which can neither be created nor be destroyed and can only be transferred from one being to another. Maybe love never was lost. Rumi, you taught me how love is the path that one needs to walk while resisting the strong urges to pluck all the daisies on the sides of it. That path leads you home.
I lost myself in that universe of poetry. Came back into my own reality, ecstatic, elated and breathing so delicately, I could melt on my knees.
Dearest Rumi, you taught, you preached and you inspired.
So I have my own little poem inside of me that is called ‘Thank you’ that I want to share with you.
You were there many moons ago and you are still here in this moon that I recognise.
You asked us, lovers, to meet you in the field beyond the ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing.
And in that alternate reality, finally found the field that had always been inside of us all.
So, thank you.
Your yet another student in the matters of love,