Following his final comments on thought and imagination, Hazrat Inayat Khan now begins to speak about memory. ‘Sati’, referred to below, in HIndu mythology was the first wife of Shiva. She is said to have thrown herself into a sacred fire for love of her husband – in other words, the picture of complete devotion.

Memory is a mental faculty, a distinct aspect of the mind. It is a recording mechanism that records all that falls upon it through any of the five senses. What one sees, hears, smells, touches and tastes is recorded upon the memory. A form, a picture, an image, once seen, sometimes remains in the memory for the whole of one’s life, if it is well recorded. In the life of the world, one hears so many words during the day, yet some words that the memory has recorded remain for one’s whole lifetime, as living as ever.

So it is with music. Once a person has heard wonderful music and it is recorded upon his memory, it remains forever and ever. Memory is such a living machine that one can produce that music at any time, it is all there. A good perfume, once experienced, once perceived, is remembered. The feeling of taste remains, also the feeling of touch. Memory holds it all.

It does not remain in the memory as in a notebook, for as the notebook is dead, so what remains in the notebook is dead; but memory is living. Whatever is recorded upon the memory is also living and gives a living sensation. A record of a pleasant memory is sometimes so precious that one wishes to sacrifice this objective world for such a record.

I was very touched once by seeing a widow whose relatives wished me to tell her to go into society, to mix with people, to live a more worldly life. I went to advise her on that subject. She told me gently, ‘All experiences of this world’s life, however pleasant, do not afford me pleasure. My only joy is in the memory of my beloved. Other things give me unhappiness, other things make me miserable. If I find joy, it is in the thought of my beloved.’ I could not say one word to change her mind. I thought it would be a sin on my part to take her away from her joy. If her memory had been a misery for her, I should have preached to her otherwise, but it was happiness for her, it was her only happiness. I thought that here was a living Sati. I had only a great esteem for her, and could not speak one word.

In the memory, the secret of heaven and hell is to be found. As Omar Khayyam said in his Rubaiyat, ‘Heaven is the vision of fulfilled desire, and hell the shadow of a soul on fire.’ What is it? Where is it? It is only in the memory. Therefore, memory is not a small thing. It is not something that is hidden in the brain. It is something living, and it is something so vast that a limited mind cannot conceive of it. It is something that is a world in and of itself.

To be continued…