In Hazrat Inayat Khan’s short lecture on ‘The Tragedy of Life,’ he tells us that what is desired is limited, but the power of desire is unlimited. This is the cause of the unhappiness that is nearly universal in the world. From this clear teaching, it is only a short step to the Sufi story about the dervish who came to a king with an empty bowl and asked the king if he could fill it. The king was amused to be asked if he, with all his wealth and power, could fill a little bowl. He discovered, though, that no matter how much he placed in the bowl, it still remained empty. ‘O dervish,’ he said, ‘is there something magical about your bowl? Why is it never filled?’ ‘Because, O King,’ the dervish replied, ‘this bowl is the longing of the world.’
We might suppose that the bowl of the dervish, if it existed at all, was the product of some strange esoteric practice, perhaps involving flickering candles, some bones and muttered spells in an abandoned cemetery, but in fact we all have such a bowl, and the interaction between the king and the dervish represents our own inner process. (It can be instructive to view all the characters in Sufi stories as representing different aspects of ourselves.) The ‘king’ is that part of ourself that is concerned with wealth – external wealth, that is – and with power, or in other words, with names and forms and the exercise of ego. The king feels that he can and must rule. Dervishes are known for their radical renunciation, so the dervish, we might say, is the part that turns away from the outer, and therefore represents the gateway to the inner realm. By looking within, the dervish has recognised the capacity of desire that cannot be satisfied by the wealth of the material world.
‘Desire’ is one of the faces of love, and since that divine power is unlimited, it shouldn’t surprise us if the bowl of love can never be filled to satisfaction by the limited. How could the infinite ever be content with the finite? Imagine the eagle finding happiness with the snail! The image of the unfillable bowl illustrates the interaction of the light and power of the soul with the limited clay of physical manifestation. The soul wears the garb of the world, and learns much from the experience, but is always restless and never feels truly at home here. Whether we sense it or not, the soul is forever longing for the freedom it knew before it took birth on earth. When it begins to awaken to its true nature, the infinite Intelligence, which is the pure light of the soul, rises into view, and throws its light on all that surrounds us.
It is those who are blessed with this recognition that know their real home, and their real power. That is why Hazrat Inayat Khan said such people are kings in themselves. In Gayan Boulas we find : The domain of the mystic is himself; over it he rules as king.
Munar and I read this together online tonight.
I am enthralled by the unfolding story, the introduction of the king and the dervish and the bowl. The encouragement to view all the characters in Sufi stories as aspects of ourselves. The renunciaton of the dervish representing the gateway to the inner realm, where souls reside, and from where in us, they long to awaken to their true nature.
Munar says: ‘The story and the explanation take us where there is silence, silence found in the depths of our heart. Thank you.’
Dearest Zubin and Munar, thank you for your deeply appreciated response. Meeting you in the infinite silence, Nawab