Rind (along with love, wine, kharàbàt and sàqí) is one of the key terms of Shàh Ni‘matullàh’s mystical lexicon. The word appears in at least one quarter of his poems. Besides, Shàh has a special treatise on the rinds and their states and stations, entitled Maràtib-e Rindàn (The levels of rinds). However, throughout the treatise martabah is used in the sense of “section” or “division” rather than in the meaning of [spiritual] level”. The treatise (which is probably a concise version of Shàh’s oral discourses) contains a brief exposition of the key mystical ideas of Ibn al-‘Arabi or what is commonly known as the principles of the school of waådat al-wujêd (e.g., particular existents as entifications (ta‘ayyunàt) of the Absolute Being; five levels of the entification of Being; the most holy and the holy effusions; the fixed entities, etc.). It appears that Shàh regards Ibn al-‘Arabi’s teachings to be the most adequate theoretical explanation of the practical mystical experience of an accomplished gnostic (‘àrif). (Hence, if we want to understand Ibn al-‘Arabi properly, some kind of mystical experience on our own part is a must. ) However, apparently not all of Shàh’s disciples knew Arabic well enough to read Ibn al-‘Arabi’s own works. Besides, since they were Persians, their native language and its poetry with its elaborated mystical symbolism was, in all likelihood, much more appealing to them than highly sophisticated theoretical discourses in Arabic. (I would venture to say that this has something to do with the Persian national character & its predominantly aesthetic (dhawqí)—may be even sybaritic—attitude to life, due to which the images of wine, sàqí and kharàbàt appeal to it much more than those of the “greater rising” (al-qiyàmah al-kubrà) or the “self-disclosure of the Essence” (tajallí-ye dhàtí) of the Real.)
I shall now quote the ghazal with the radif “rind” from the fifth chapter of the treatise Maràtib-e rindàn, which contains a sketchy portrait of the rind, and then examine every bayt in detail.
The rind is always in the company of a cup of wine.
The rind is permanently in love, drunk and devastated.
The veil of the wretched renouncer is his [acts of] obedience,
But, in our path, the rind has no veil.
Since the rind drinks countless cups of wine,
How can the intellect count him [for anything].
His lips are full of the water of life, and yet he has brought water to his lips—
Isn’t the rind is like a cup of foam full of water.
On whichever path the rind finds a companion, he goes that way,
He does not remain at a water source, nor stays with a mirage.
This unbound one is not bound by anything.
How can he be bound by knowledge and a book?!
Seek the Sayyid’s path of rindí from Ni‘matullàh,
Because the rind makes no mistakes and is [always] right.
The meaning of the first bayt is outwardly quite plain: the sole business of the rind is drinking wine, wherefore he is always drunk and intoxicated to the degree that he is unable to account for his actions—in one word, he is a hopeless drunkard. On the other hand, since he says that he is permanently in love, we can suppose that probably his “wine” might be understood as the witnessing of the beauty of his beloved. Let us, however, check the mystical meaning of the key words—“wine” (sharàb), “a cup of wine” (jàm-e sharàb), “drunkenness and devastation” (mastí yu kharàbí).
One glossary of mystical terms tells us that sharàb is generally an allusion to the drunkenness of love and the attraction of the Real (jadhba-ye åaqq). Besides, the glossary says, passionate love (‘ishq) and the taste of intoxication (dhawq-e sukr) are also likened to wine. Another glossary gives a more specific definition: “Sharàb is the tumult of love (shêr-e ‘ishq), accompanied by actions which cause people’s reproach; it is peculiar to the folk of perfection (ahl-e kamàl).” The “cup” (jàm), in turn, is a receptacle of this spiritual wine, i.e., the heart of the mystic.
However, I think that another interpretation is also possible. To Shàh Ni‘matullàh, every witnessed form is a cup of wine, since it is the locus of manifestation of one of God’s names. What makes the rind’s intoxication permanent is exactly his ability to witness a single meaning in an infinite multitude of forms.
Because of the jealousy of this drunken peerless witness
No-one [else] fits in the abode of kharàbàt.
In turn, “drunk and devastated” (mast o kharàb) alludes to submersion in the intoxication (istighràq dar sukr), i.e., to reaching the utmost degree of the latter. This intoxication, again, indicates “leaving the outer and inner bounds and turning the face with undivided attention towards the Real” and, hence, taking no heed of what is other than the Real.
The second bayt is based on a contrast between the renouncer (zàhid) and the rind. The first is veiled from the Real by his witnessing of his own pious deeds. He takes pride in them and hopes to receive a reward for them in the hereafter. He has renounced (zahada) this world (al-dunyà) for the sake of the other one (al-àkhirah). In turn, the rind has no business with this world and the other one: he is so absorbed by witnessing the Real in every form and image that he does not care for anything else—or rather, since he knows for sure that there is nothing but the Real, he has lifted the veils of the two worlds. This takes us to the problem of himmat (aspiration). A Sufi axiom says: “you are worth what you aspire to [therefore do not spend your himmat on trifles].” Let us remember that the Prophet could approach his Lord “at a distance of two bows’ length or closer (53:9) only because “his sight never swerved nor went wrong” (53:17) .
The third bayt is based on a wordplay, which is elegant and witty by its form, but perhaps not exceptionally deep in its meaning. We are told that, since being a rind presupposes permanent intoxication, rindí is incompatible with the intellect (‘aql). None of the counterparts (the ‘aql and the rind) take the other seriously. By doing so, the rind shows his perspicacity (zírakí), but the intellect—its arrogance and wilfulness.
In the fourth bayt Shàh plays with his favourite images of foam and water, indicating that they represent a single reality of water, though the difference in the intensity of these two particular levels of existence creates an illusion of duality (imagine that you are drinking water from a cup that is made of ice!).
It may be worth mentioning that in Shàh’s Divàn the images of water and foam and wine and cup appear more than a hundred times and that Shàh is always keen to point to their oneness and the illusory character of the difference and otherness.
Fill with water the cup [that is made] of foam,
Find the cup and the wine by means of each other.
In reality they are one, [but] the names are two.
If you like, call it “cup”; if you like, call it “wine”.
The actual message, hidden in the imagery of foam and water, is grave and tremendous and difficult to bear for our vanity:
We are the foam that has built a tent of wind on the water.
In this sea, we are waves, and we are our own veil.
When the wave falls, our egos go.
The “wind” is apparently our caprice (hawà): the “wave” is our soul or self (nafs), the “foam” might be the soul as well as the body. Both the foam and the wave are illusory and do not possess a real existence. The secret of rindí, hence, is removing the illusion of I-ness and otherness. Beyond this illusion (“wave” or “foam”) lies the ocean of non-entification. When the Real lifts the veil of illusion, the mystic sees everything as Him and Him as everything.
In the fifth bayt, Shàh tells us that the rind is not at all particular as regards the itinerary of his travels and travelling companions. Besides, he is a restless creature who never remains at one place for a considerable period of time. This laxity and restlessness reminds us of the qalandars. I think the followers of such qalandari shaykhs as Jamàl al-Dín Sàvají and Quìb al-Dín Haydar tried to imitate outwardly the inner states of the rinds: shaving the hair and beards and wandering from place to place symbolized separation and breaking attachments. They believed that imitation (taqlíd) gradually changes into realization (tahqíq) and that frequently repeated actions form acquired qualities (malakàt). But the “traveling companion” also can be understood as anything that belongs to any of the three domains—sensory, psychic or spiritual: whatever form the rind encounters, it instantly takes him to the Real. However, he never becomes a captive of any particular manifestation of the Real (“water source”)—much less of an illusion of “what is other than He” (i.e., a form or an image witnessed as possessing some sort of being of its own, different from the being of the Real).
In the sixth bayt, Shàh explicitly confirms the implicit message of the first five bayts:
This unbound (mutlaq) one is not bound (muqayyad) by anything.
Thus, the deeper meaning of “breaking attachments” and “removing illusory images” is the lifting of all sorts of limitations. Having lifted them, the rind sees that:
A neighbour, an intimate friend and a travelling companion, all is He.
In pauper’s rags and in king’s satin, all is He.
In the assembly of separation and in the closet of gathering, all is He.
By God, all is He, then [again], by God, all is He!
In fact, this experience can be expressed in one word “hê”, i.e., “He”.
Knowledge mentioned in the second hemistich, is definitely the discoursive (bahthí) or formal (rasmí) one, not God’s knowledge or that of a perfect mystic. Likewise, the book is the book of formal knowledge, i.e., the book of ‘ulamà’ and foqahà’, not the book of God—or perhaps Shàh wants to say that, due to the unboundedness of the rind’s mashrab (“drinking place”), the very notions of “knowledge” and “book” are too narrow to convey his experience.
Turning to the final bayt of the ghazal, I assume that, in the first line, we should understand “Sayyid” as the Prophet, i.e., that Shàh regards the Prophet as an exemplary rind and views his path as the most perfect path of rindí ever travelled, while claiming himself to be an inheritor of this path. Another way to interpret the hemistich is to suppose that “Sayyid” is Shàh himself and to read “Ni‘matullàh” literally as “God’s blessing”. In this case, the message is that, in order to find the path of rindi, travelled by Shàh, one needs to obtain God’s blessing (which, however, can only be given by God himself, not obtained by one’s own efforts). The second hemistich explains why it is necessary to (try to) find this path: “the rind makes no mistakes and is [always] right”, i.e., he is the “preserved one” (ma‘sêm)—preserved exactly by his unboundedness and knowledge that “all is He”.
In brief, one comes to the conclusion that, according to Shàh Ni‘matullàh, the key characteristics of the rind are his lofty aspiration (himmat), separation (tajríd) from the illusory existence of “what is other than God” and ability (i.e., perspicacity (zírakí)) to see the true state of the things, that is, to see the Real in all things, or rather, to see the Real with the light of the Real. The spiritual station possessed by the rind is that of essential oneness, also known as kharàbàt. Kharàbàt literally means the lawless part of town, where all sorts of illegal businesses (in particular wine selling, gambling and prostitution) prosper and where the rinds (read: the lawless people and vagabonds) dwell. In the mystical sense, to become a kharàbàtí (a habitué of the kharàbàt) means to become free from the bounds of the illusory self, thus reaching the station of oneness—the process, succinctly characterized as “dropping ascriptions”.
Shàh is careful to underline that the station of a perfect rind is above the station of the badal (“the changed one, the substitute”, pl. abdàl). The latter means a mystic who has experienced the “change of being” or the “change of character”, i.e., God has replaced his evil traits with good & beautiful ones.
Thus in a poem devoted to Shaykh Aåmad Jàm, he says:
The Shaykh of Islam Aåmad Jàm,
Whose breath made a dead heart alive—
It is said that “his wine became honey”.
Don’t be a denier, don’t say: “When did this happen?”
However, [know that there is] another rind, whose barrel became
Completely empty of wine through a single attraction.
Neither wine, nor honey is left in his barrel;
His sugar has gone and he has gotten rid of the cane.
Although the change of character is good,
It is better to become nothing (là shay’).
Ni‘matullàh who is the commander of the drunk,
Has passed away from himself and gained subsistence through Him.
Hence, to become a perfect rind means to become nothing (and, therefore, everything). Thus, it is not quite proper to speak of the “new creation” or “substantial motion” in case of the rind, though these concepts are most helpful in explaining the change of being and character. I would propose two clues that might be of some use in order to explain the difference between the rind and the badal (both taken from the Maràtib-e Rindàn). First, I think that the rind can be described as one who has reached nearness to God by obligatory works (qurb al-farà’iè) and the badal as one who has reached nearness to God by supererogatory works (qurb al-nawàfil). In the first case, the servant becomes the hearing and the sight of God. God is hidden and the servant is manifest. In the second case, it is God who becomes the hearing and the sight of his servant. God is manifest and the servant is hidden. The second clue is based on the gradation of manifestations (self-disclosures) of the Real. Shàh admits that some rinds are only able to witness the manifestation of His acts (af‘àl), some experience the manifestation of His attributes (sifàt). The perfect rinds, however, know that the acts are concomitants of the attributes and the attributes are companions of the Essence. It might not be improper to describe the abdàls as the mystics who have experienced the manifestation of attributes and the perfect rinds as those who have experienced the manifestation of the Essence—the manifestation which is said to destroy its locus of manifestation:
There is neither a level, nor a locus of manifestation, nor [are there] mirrors.
There is no name. What are the attributes?
“The essential manifestation is received by a realizer who is completely void of the necessary and contingent descriptions, states and properties of names. This emptiness is not totally different from the emptiness of the Real, but it is [like a] flash of lightning, which appears, but does not last, as our Prophet said: ‘I have a time with God, when no prophet sent out or angel brought near embraces me’, and the reason why this manifestation does not last is the property of all-comprehensiveness of the reality of human being”.
In other words, the reality of a human being is like a mirror which reflects God’s names in their totality. By virtue of being a mirror, it cannot be void of images save for a moment. Hence, what distinguishes a perfect rind from other mystics is his ability to recognize the Real in every image and to know Him by every name. In this sense, he is the possessor of the station of Adam, to whom God ?taught… the names, all of them? (2:31).
That said, I would like to conclude with the assertion that, like qalandar, ‘àshiq (lover) and mast (drunk), rind is a symbol by means of which we attempt to qualify what is above qualities and to name what has no name. In practical terms, to be a rind means, first of all, to preserve the loftiness of one’s himmat.
The drunk lover does not seek anyone except the Friend.
Ni‘matullàh does not seek anyone except Him.
Notes
M.L?hij?, Maf?t?h al-i‘j?z f? sharh golshane r?z, 5th ed., Tehran, 1992, p.636.
One should mind the words of ?q? Sayyid Raè? L?r?j?n? (d.1853 or 1854): “The teaching of the “Fuæ?æ” is the work of a qalandar” (M. Sadughi Soha, “A Bio-Bibliography of Post Sadr-ul-Muta’allih?n Mystics and Philosophers”, Tehran: Iranian Academy of Philosophy, 1980. p.47).
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, Ras?’il, v.1, Tehran, 1978, p.232.
“Sharh-e mokhtasar-e estel?h?t” in: R. M. Khomeini, D?van-e Imam, 35th ed., Tehran, 2002, p.331.
“Mostalih?t wa ta‘bir?t-e d?v?n-e Sh?h Ni‘matullàh Wal?”, in: Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, with the introduction of S. Nafisi, 2nd ed., Tehran, 1999, p.726.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.37.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.732.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.726.
The Holy Qur’an, translated by Abdullah Yusuf Ali. London: Wordsworth Editions 2000, p.455.
The Holy Qur’an, p.455.
Cf. the bayt (which is sometimes wrongly attributed to H?fiz):
If you see the intellect, take him and bring him quickly to us,
Because he has deserted the service to the king of rinds.
(Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.105).
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.542.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.174.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.51.
‘Abd al-Rahm?n J?m?, “Law??h”, in: M. M. T. Majlis?, Ris?le-ye tashw?q al-s?lik?n, with the attachment of A. J?m?’s Law?yih and F. ‘Ir?q?’s Law?mi‘, Tehran: N?r-e F?tima Publishers 1996, p.62. We have consulted W. Chittick’s translation, (W.Chittick, Sufism: A Short Introduction, Oxford: Oneworld 2000, p.75) as well.
M.Shabistar?, Golshan-e r?z, in: M. L?hij?, “Maf?t?h al-?‘j?z”, p.763.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.608.
See: Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, Ras?’il, v.1, p.242-243.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, Ras?’il, v.1, p.231.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, Ras?’il, v.1, p.254.
The English translation of the åadíth is from: W.Chittick, The Self-Disclosures of God: Principles of Ibn al-‘Arabi’s Cosmology, New York: SUNY Press 1998, p.437.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, Ras?’il, v.1, p.254.
The English translation is from W. Chittick, The Self-Disclosure, p.421.
Sh?h Ni‘matullàh, D?v?n, p.442.