Rabia

Rabia

(“I have told you about the Sufi mystic woman, Rabiya al-Adabiya. She is a rare woman, in the sense that very few women have reached to that height. She belongs to the category of buddhas. Naturally, she was thought to be a little outlandish, a little eccentric, a little insane.”
- OSHO  Zen: The Diamond Thunderbolt)

One evening, the sun was setting and the neighborhood found Rabia searching for something on the street -- an old woman, everybody loved her; of course everybody thought her a little crazy, but she was a beautiful person -- so they all rushed to help her and they asked, What has been lost? What are you searching for? She said: My needle. I was doing some needlework and I have lost my needle. Help me! You are so kind! So they all engaged in the search.

Then one man, seeing the fact that the street was so big and the needle was such a small tiny thing and that unless they exactly knew where it had been dropped it would be almost impossible to find it, came to Rabia and said: Tell us exactly the spot. Rabia said: Don't ask that because in fact I have not lost it outside my house, I lost it inside.

They all stopped searching and said: Crazy woman! Then why are you searching here outside in the street when you have lost it inside the house?

Rabia said: THERE is much darkness. Here is a little light, how can you seek when there is darkness? And you know I am poor, not even a lamp with me. How can you seek when there is darkness? So I am seeking here because still a little sunlight is left, and still something can be done to search.

The people started laughing. They said: You are really crazy! We know that in darkness it is difficult to search, but then the only way is to borrow a lamp from somebody and search for it there.

Rabia said: I never thought you people were so wise. Then why do you always SEEK outside? I was just following your ways. If you are so understanding why don't you borrow a lamp from me and search inside? I know there is darkness...

                                                                        --- Can she be anyone other than Rabia

This parable is meaningful. You search outside: there is a reason -- because inside everything is so dark. You close your eyes and there is dark night, you cannot see anything; even if something is seen it is nothing but a part of the outside reflected in the inner lake -- thoughts floating which you have gathered in the marketplace, faces coming and going, but they belong to the outside world. Just reflections of the outside, and vast darkness One becomes afraid. Then one thinks it is better to seek outside, there at least there is light.

But that is not the point. Where have you lost your truth? Where have you lost your being? Where have you lost your God? Where have you lost your happiness, your bliss? Better it will be before you go to the infinte maze of the outside world, better it will be to first look within. If you cannot find there then it is all right -- you go and search outside. But that has never happened. Whoever has looked within has always found -- because it is already there -- only a look is needed, a conversion, a returning of consciousness. Just a deep look

Islam has had many mystics, but one of the foremost (and a woman) is Rabia Adawiyya. Her poetry,  can be likened to MiraBai's, who lived 800 years after her.

(The following question was asked from Osho:

If truth cannot be expressed in words, then why have all the buddhas used words?

A parable:

The great mystic, Rabia of Basra, was immensely beautiful. And a beauty not of this world. Once a rich young man from Iran comes to Basra. He asks people, “Is there anything that is out of the way, something special here?”

“Yes,” they all tell him. “We have the most beautiful woman of the world!”

The young man naturally becomes interested and he asks, “Where can I find her?”

And they all laugh and say, “Well, where else?… in a brothel!”

That repulses the rich young man, but finally he decides to go. And when he gets there, the matron asks for an exorbitant fee. He pays the fee and is ushered in. There, in a silent and simple room, a figure is praying. What beauty she has! He has never seen such beauty and grace, not even in his dreams. Just to be there is a benediction, and the prayerful atmosphere starts affecting him. He forgets about his passion. He is entering into another kind of space. He is drugged. He is turned on to God.

An hour passes and he intensely feels he is in a temple! Oh, such joy and such purity! He goes on feasting on her beauty. But it is no more the beauty of a human being – it is God’s beauty. It no more has anything to do with the body – it is utterly other-worldly.

And then Rabia opens her eyes, those lotus eyes, and he looks into them, and there is no woman in front of him – he is facing God. And this way the whole night passes, as if it were only a moment.

The sun is rising and its rays are coming through the windows, and he feels it is time to go. He says to Rabia, “I am your slave. Tell me anything, anything in the world that I can do for you.”

She says, “I have only one little request.”

He asks, “What is it?”

Rabia says, “Never tell anybody what you have seen and experienced here. Allow the people to come to me – this beauty is nothing but a trap set for them. I use it as a door for them to enter God. Please, promise me that you will never tell others what you have experienced here tonight. Let them come to a whore and a brothel, because otherwise they will never come to me.”

“Oh!” he says, “So this is the secret of this city. The whole city clamors after your beauty, yet nobody tells me about his experience.”

Rabia laughs and says, “Yes, I extract the promise, this promise, from all of them.”

Rabia used her beauty as a trap. Buddha used his words as a trap. Krishna used his flute as a trap. Meera used her dance as a trap.

You have to be trapped. And you can only be trapped in ways that you can understand. You have to be taken from the known into the unknown, but the beginning has to be in the known.

You understand passion. The young man was not in search of God, but he became interested in a beautiful body, in a beautiful woman – and was trapped. He had gone there because of his passion. Once he was there in the presence of Rabia, the passion started changing – it became prayer.

You can understand words, that’s why all the Buddhas have used words, knowing perfectly well, saying again and again, that the truth cannot be expressed in words. But you understand words and the truth cannot be expressed in words, then how to communicate? The journey has to start from where you are. The Buddhas have to speak words. Words will bring you closer to the Buddhas; words will not give you truth, but they will bring you closer to the Buddhas. Once you are close to them, you will start forgetting the words; you will start falling into silence.

Osho, Walk Without Feet, Fly Without Wings and Think Without Mind,.)

Hasan al-Basri is usually referred to as being one of the closest of the Beloveds of Allah around Rabi`a in
her early life. It is he who is recorded as being the person who said to Rabi`a, "Do you desire for us to get married?" To which she replied, "The tie of marriage is for those who have being. But here being has disappeared for I have become as nothing to my self, and I exist only through Allah for I belong wholly to Him, and I live in the shadow of His control. You must ask for my hand from Him, and not from me."

Hasan then replied, "How did you find this secret, Rabia?"
She answered him, "I lost all found things in Him."
Hasan then replied, "How did you come to know Him?"
She said, "You know of the how but I know of the howless."

For Rabia`s case was that she had heard the Voice of her Beloved Who was Allah and none other than He, and she had no need for any earthly husband because the only true marriage for her was with Allah Himself alone.

Like many of the ascetic sufi’s, Rabia made no separation in her love between man and woman if they lived for the Face of her Beloved God. Many people loved her and needed her and wanted to take from her something of the special Gift which she had been given from Allah. She had many followers who yearned to feed themselves from her Love which she gave to all those whom she loved. Allah himself was her real Beloved but she kept company with her fellow beings, as she said, "Everyone who obeys (and she
meant by this the true lover) seeks intimacy."

Then she recited these lines:

"I have made You the Companion of my heart.
But my body is available to those who desire its company,
And my body is friendly toward its guest,
But the Beloved of my heart is the guest of my soul."

She never married nor did she have any children but as she, may Allah be pleased with her, said, "My peace is in solitude but my Beloved is always with me. Whenever I witness His Beauty He is my prayer niche (mihrab); toward Him is my qibla. Oh Healer of souls, the heart feeds upon its desire and its striving towards Union with You has healed my soul. You are my Joy and my Life to Eternity. You were the Source of my life; from You came my ecstasy. I have separated myself from all created beings, for my hope is for Union with You; for that is the Goal of my searching."

At about this time she left Baghdad and returned to Basra where she remained for many years, until she finally travelled to Jerusalem where she died and is buried. She, may Allah be pleased with her, had a long life in this dunya (material world) during which she continued, to her last days, to give of everything that Allah inspired her to give to all who loved her, because she was His special Light for them all.

Her life and sayings became a source of deep inspiration and yearning (himma) for all those who were drawn to her and followed her, both in her time and afterwards. This was because her love, manifesting directly from the Spirit and for the Face of her Beloved alone without any trace of self in it, brought a special fragrance from the deep Secret Love into the more austere teachings of those early Sufis. She was the Word which gave life to the hearts of those beloved people of Allah who followed after her in the
same Line of the Love of God, as she had done.

Rabia and her Pilgrimage

One of the early stories about Rabi`a relates how she set about making the Pilgrimage to Mecca. She joined a caravan of other pilgrims and she had a small donkey on which she put her baggage for her journey. However, in the middle of the desert the donkey died. Some of the people in the caravan
offered to carry her baggage for her, but she said to them, "Go on your way for I must not depend upon you for help, but I trust myself to Allah." So, seeing that they could not persuade her otherwise, the other pilgrims continued and Rabi`a remained behind alone in the vast desert all around her. She prayed to her Lord, saying, "O my God, do kings deal thus with a woman, a stranger who is weak? You are calling me to Your House (the Ka`ba) but in the middle of my way You have suffered my ass to die, and You have
left me alone in the desert." Hardly had she finished praying when her ass began to move, and finally it

stood up. Rabi`a put her baggage again on it and continued on her way.

"Everyone prays to You from fear of the Fire;
And if You do not put them in the Fire,
This is their reward.
Or they pray to You for the Garden,
Full of fruits and flowers.
And that is their prize.
But I do not pray to You like this,
For I am not afraid of the Fire,
And I do not ask You for the Garden.
But all I want is the Essence of Your Love,
And to return to be One with You,
And to become Your Face."

One of her companions, Sufyan al-Thawri, asked her, "What is the best thing for the servant to do who desires proximity to his Lord?" She said, "That the servant should possess nothing in this world for the Next, save Him." Rabi`a, may Allah preserve her secret, never had any doubts about her Beloved being present or absent, because she was not concerned only to have His good pleasure and bounties. She lived for a Love which does not seek. for any answer, reward or reciprocity. It was related how one day one of
her followers said in her presence, "Oh Allah, may You be satisfied with us!" Whereupon Rabi`a said, "Are you not ashamed before Him to ask Him to be satisfied with you, when you are not satisfied with Him?" By this she meant that first we must be truly satisfied with Allah, Most High, before we can ask Him to be satisfied with us. Then this was followed by the question to her, "When then is the servant
satisfied with Allah Most High?" She replied, "When his pleasure in misfortune is equal to his pleasure in
prosperity."

She said:

"O God, if I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell,
And if I worship You in hope of Paradise,
Exclude me from Paradise.
But if I worship You for Your Own sake,
Grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty."

Her faith came from her total surrender to her Beloved God, as she said, "I have fled from the world and all that is in it. My prayer is for Union with You; that is the goal of my desire."

It was part of her faith that she welcomed an asceticism which accepted everything as a Gift from Allah, the Lover to his beloved slave. Therefore, she regarded misfortune in the same way as she regarded favors and happiness, and this was the ultimate of bondsmanship to her. About this she said, "You have given me life and have provided for me, and Yours is the Glory." And she added, "You have bestowed upon me many favors, and gifts, graces and help." In this she acknowledges her bondsmanship to the Giver
and Bestower of all Bounty.

The sole object of Rabi`a's life was bound up in her yearning and passionate love (shawq) for her Beloved, which meant not merely the destruction of her self (nafs) but surrender to Allah every moment in the perfect Union in which there is no Lord and slave, no Creator and created being, only He in Himself. In that state she came to realize that she existed in Him without any possibility of separation from His indivisible Oneness.

One day a man, who was said to be a knower of Allah, met Rabi`a who asked him of his state, whereupon he replied, "I have trod the Path of obedience and I have not sinned since Allah created me." She, may Allah be pleased with her, said to him, "Alas my son, your existence is a sin wherewith no other sin may be compared."

Her attraction to a life of poverty was also part of her need not to be distracted from her inner journey by the necessity for material considerations. There is a story about this poverty of hers, as one of her companions said, "I went to visit Rabi`a and saw her in her house with nothing but a broken water pitcher out of which she drank and made her ablution. There was also an old reed mat and a brick which she sometimesused as a pillow. When I saw this, I felt very sad and I said to her, 'I have rich friends. If you wish I will get something from them for you.' She said, 'You have committed a grievous error. Is not my Provider and theirs one and the same?' I replied, 'Yes.' Then she said, 'And has the Provider of the poor forgotten the poor on account of their poverty? And does He remember the rich because of their riches?' I replied, 'No.' She said, 'Then since He knows of my state, how should I remind Him? Such is His Will
and I too wish what He wills.'"

She also said, "You must conceal your good deeds as you conceal your evil deeds."
In the same way, she said, "What appears of any (good) works, I count as nothing at all."

And again, a story of the same nature is as follows: It is related that Ibrahim ibn Adhan, a very holy person, spent fourteen years making his way to the Ka`ba because in every place of prayer he prayed two ruk`u and at last when he reached the Ka`ba he did not see it. He said to himself, "Alas, what has happened to my eyes. Maybe a sickness has come to them." Then he heard a voice which said, "No harm has befallen your eyes, but the Ka`ba has gone to meet a woman who is approaching." Ibrahim was seized with jealousy and said, "O indeed; who is this?" He ran and saw Rabi`a arriving, and the Ka`ba was back in its place.

Once when Rabi`a, may Allah be pleased with her, was asked, "Where have you come from?" She said, "From that World." They then asked her, "Where are you going?" She replied, "To that World." They asked, "What are you doing in this world?" She said, "I am sorrowing." They asked, "In what way?" She
said, "I am eating the bread of this world and doing the work of that World." Then someone said, "One so persuasive in speech is worthy to keep a guest-house." She replied, "I myself am keeping a rest-house. Whatever is within I do not allow to go out, and whatever is without I do not allow to come in. If anyone comes in or goes out, he does not concern me, for I am contemplating my own heart, not mere clay."

"O God, my whole occupation
And all my desire in this world,
Of all worldly things,
Is to remember You.
And in the Hereafter
It is to meet You.
This is on my side, as I have stated.
Now You do whatever You will."

( In a lighter vein ….

Mulla Nasrudin was milking a cow, when suddenly a bull tore across the meadow toward him. The Mulla didn't move, but kept on milking. Several men, who were watching from the next field, were surprised when the bull stopped dead within a few yards of the Mulla. He then turned around and walked away. "Were you not afraid, Mulla?" asked the men. "Of course not," replied Nasrudin. "This cow is his mother-in-law."


Mulla Nasrudin was watching the youngsters put on their horse show. He said to a bystander, "It's terrible the way they dress today. Just look at that young boy with the cigarette, sloppy haircut, and tight breeches." "That is not a boy," said the other. "It's a girl and she's my daughter." "Oh, excuse me, Sir," said the Mulla. "I meant no offence. I didn't know you were her father." "I am not," said the other. "I am her mother."


Mulla Nasrudin was watching the youngsters put on their horse show. He said to a bystander, "It's terrible the way they dress today. Just look at that young boy with the cigarette, sloppy haircut, and tight breeches." "That is not a boy," said the other. "It's a girl and she's my daughter." "Oh, excuse me, Sir," said the Mulla. "I meant no offence. I didn't know you were her father." "I am not," said the other. "I am her mother."

Mulla Nasrudin's wife complained bitterly to the Mulla. "I am absolutely ashamed of the way we live. Mother pays our rent. My aunt buys our clothes. My sister sends us money for food. I don't like to complain, but I am ashamed that we cannot do better than that." "You should be ashamed," said Nasrudin. "You have got two uncles that don't send us a dime."