Layla and Majnun

by Nizami

  Has history ever known a master like Majnun? Has there ever been such a shepherd and such a flock? When the story of Majnun and his new companions reached the people, they found it difficult to believe. Was this not merely the re-working of some old fairy story, some legend from times gone by? Many would not believe it until they saw with their own eyes, and so they traversed the desert wastes to see for themselves. When they found Majnun with his retinue of loyal desert beasts, they were more often than not lost for words, not knowing what to think or say. In many cases, their astonishment was mixed with pity; knowing that love had reduced him to such an existence, they would bring him food and drink, trying in the only way they knew to ease his distress. While Majnun accepted their gifts, he would eat nothing himself, preferring to pass it on to his animal friends. And since he was goodness itself, they, too, became good.

  Chapter 36

  Do animals not reflect man? Are the attributes present in the beasts of the earth not merely an echo of human nature? Ponder this point while we digress awhile …

  There was once a King, the ruler of Marv, who owned a number of guard-dogs. They were not ordinary, run-of-the-mill guard dogs, however; let us say that they were demons on leashes, veritable hounds from hell.

  Each possessed the strength of a puma, while their jaws were strong enough to sever a camel’s head with one bite. Why did the King keep such beasts?

  The reason was simple. Whenever someone fell out of favour with the King, or incurred his wrath in some way, the King would have the offender thrown to these dogs, who would then rip the poor wretch to pieces and devour his flesh.

  Now, among the King’s courtiers there was a young man of considerable wisdom and intelligence, a master of the arts of diplomacy and courtly etiquette. He was aware, of course, of the existence of these satanic beasts and the purpose that they served.

  He was also aware, as were his peers, that the King was a wildly irritable man with a mercurial temperament.

  Those whom the King favoured one day would suddenly find themselves out of favour the next, usually for no apparent reason. The King’s mood was as unpredictable as the spring sky; what has happened to others, the young man reasoned, may so easily happen to me, too.

  And so he lay awake at night, pondering the grim fate that might be in store for him. What on earth was he to do?

  Finally, the young man hit upon a plan. Whenever the opportunity arose, he would pass by the kennels where these canine demons were chained up. There he would converse awhile with their keepers, bringing them small gifts in order to win their confidence and gain their trust.

  Thus began the second part of his plan. His growing friendship with the keepers of the dogs opened up a path to friendship with the dogs themselves.

  Every few days he would bring pieces of meat for them; sometimes, when he had had more access than usual to the royal kitchens, he would bring a whole sheep or goat.

  Gradually, he won the trust and confidence of the dogs; before long, they had become so used to his visits that they would leap up and howl with pleasure whenever they saw him approaching.

  He, for his part, had overcome his fear. He would stroke them and play with them as though they were kittens. This, of course, had been his aim from the outset.

  One day, for no apparent reason, the King became angry with the young man, just as the young man had feared he might.

  Summoning his guards, the King ordered the young man to be thrown to the dogs. Binding the hapless youth’s hands and feet, the guards dragged him to the kennels and pushed him through the gate, locking it behind him.

  Then they stood and waited for the vicious beasts to attack.

  But of course, nothing happened. Human beings may not always repay kindness with kindness, but dogs — however vicious — most certainly do. As soon as they recognised the young man as the one who had brought them gifts and lavished attention on them, they ran to him and began to lick his hands and face in a tender show of affection.

  Then they sat bolt upright at his side, ready to protect him from danger. Not even the juiciest bones and chunks of meat thrown by their keepers could tempt them away from their friend.

  The King’s guards looked on in astonishment. They had come to feast their eyes on a bloodbath; instead they were witness to a touching display of affection between man and beast.

  Unable to believe what they were seeing, the guards shouted at the dogs, urging them to attack, but their cries went unheeded.

  As the sun set behind the mountains, covering the snow-tipped peaks with a mantle of red and gold, the King sat in his chamber, his anger now diminished considerably.

  In fact, he was beginning to feel pangs of remorse for having acted so recklessly, for destroying the life of a young man for almost no reason.

  Of course, he was unaware of what had happened earlier that day in the kennels, and none of his courtiers had dared to tell him.

  As the evening wore on, he became more and more distraught. ‘Why?’ he cried, his voice aflame; ‘Why did I order that innocent young man to be thrown to the dogs? Why did I act so hastily? Go now, go and bring me news. Go and see what has happened to the poor wretch.’

  The courtiers hastened to the kennels and returned with one of the guards, ordering him to report everything to the King.

  Naturally, the guard was afraid to tell exactly what he had seen that day; how could he confess that the condemned youth had escaped almost certain death by showing affection to the hounds from hell and winning them over with gifts?

  And so he approached the King, bowed, and with a trembling voice said, ‘Your Majesty! This young man cannot be human; indeed, I declare that he must be some kind of jinn or angel for whom God in His compassion has worked a miracle.

  ‘Come, your Majesty, and see for yourself! He is sitting in the middle of the cage, surrounded by your dogs. And what do they do? Instead of tearing him limb from limb they rub against him affectionately and lick his face!

  ‘Is that not a miracle? Is that not a sign from God? These are no ordinary beasts — they are more like demons than dogs — yet in that young man’s presence they are like playful kittens.’

  The King jumped up from his throne and rushed out of the chamber and through the palace grounds to the kennels.

  Seeing the miracle with his own eyes, he began to weep. And when the guards had brought the young man out of the cage, the King, still sobbing violently, embraced him and begged his forgiveness.

  Several days later, the King asked for the young man to be brought to his chamber, so that they might speak awhile in private.

  Not believing in miracles as such, the King was anxious to know what had really happened in the cage, and why the young man had not been ripped to pieces like so many others before him. ‘Tell me, young man,’ he said, ‘why did my dogs not kill you? What is your secret?’

  As the young man told his story, the King’s eyes widened and he shook his head with disbelief. The young man answered him:

  ‘It is true that your dogs became my friends and spared me my life on account of a few bones and some scraps of meat. I showed them a little kindness and they repaid me by saving my life.

  ‘But what about you, your Majesty? I have served you loyally for ten years — for most of my life, and you know this quite well. Yet, you were ready to have me torn apart by your dogs on account of some trivial misdemeanour on my part that happened to displease you.

  ‘Because I annoyed you for a few moments, you gave orders to have me killed! Tell me who, then, is a better friend: you or your hounds from hell? Who deserves my respect: your Majesty or your Majesty’s canine demons?’

  The young man spoke with considerable daring and courage, but the King was not angered. On the contrary, the King was humbled.

  It was clear that the whole experience was a test from God for all concerned, and that from it there was a lesson that had to be learned. The King decided never again to act on a whim and throw innocent people to his hounds;
instead, he would try to tame the beast in his own soul.

  But we have digressed too far. What of Majnun? Well, he was kind to the animals not because he was afraid of them, but because kindness was part of his being; he could not help but treat them with respect and compassion.

  Consequently, the beasts who gathered around him came to love him as much as he loved them. Their loyalty to him was unswerving and, as we have yet to see, they stayed with him right to the very end.

  Is the significance of this anecdote easy to grasp? Do you understand what it means, dear reader? It means that if you, too, follow the example of Majnun, you will not have to suffer the torments and miseries of this transient world.

  Chapter 37

  The moon was a shining silver orb, while on the horizon Venus burned like sulphur. Meteors fell to the earth like blazing spears tossed by some heavenly hand, while the stars sparkled like a myriad of sequins sewn on to the indigo cloak of the sky.

  Majnun stood looking up at the heavens, his eyes wandering from planet to planet, from star to star. Which one of them should he invoke? Which one of them would come to his aid?

  As his eyes scanned the horizon, he first noticed Venus, and cried, ‘O Venus! You are the guiding light for all those who seek happiness in this world. Mistress of poets and singers, in your hands lies the key to success. You are the seal in the signet ring of the King, you are the queen in the palace of worldly prosperity, you are the ruling star of lovers. Yours is the gift of pleasant words on ruby lips; those who belong to your circle, and drink your wine, are scented with ambergris. Admit me to your circle also, and bestow your favours upon me! Open the gate of hope: do not let me die waiting! My soul is sick and only you know the cure. Let the night breeze bring the scent of my beloved to me while there is still time!’

  After he had petitioned Venus, Majnun turned to Jupiter. Could he not help him too? Majnun said, ‘O Jupiter, star of delight! You are a loyal soul, for you always keep your promise. You stand for fairness and equity; on each realm you leave your seal, for you are the star of just rulers and jurists. You determine who is to be victorious; the Pen of Fate is in your hands! The future of the whole cosmos depends on you! Keep faith with me, for my heart draws all its strength from you. Do not close your eyes in my hour of need!’

  Chapter 38

  Majnun invoked planet after planet, star after star, yet not once did he receive an answer. The heavens remained silent and Majnun’s soul froze in the chill of their icy, heartless beauty. The heavenly bodies went on their way, unconcerned with his plight, oblivious to his heartache. What did they care? Why should they trouble themselves to help him?

  And then Majnun realised; for the first time it all became clear. The stars did not care for him because they could not care. The stars, like the grains of sand beneath his feet, were blind, deaf and dumb! Their glittering show was just that — a show. Beneath the splendid façade, they were but inanimate creatures with neither voice nor vision. What could the suffering of a human soul possibly mean to them?

  And so Majnun raised his face to the heavens once more, but this time not to invoke the stars. They are mere subjects like me, he thought. And where there are subjects, there must be a ruler. If the creation will not answer me, he thought, maybe the Creator will.

  And so Majnun prayed to Him Who has created all beings on earth, and Who is without need. He said, ‘O Lord! To whom can I turn, if not to You? Venus and Jupiter are but Your bondsmen, doing Your bidding, while Yours is the well-spring of all creation. Your knowledge encompasses all things, while the extent of Your bounty cannot be fathomed. All power belongs to You, and there is no chain so strong that You could not break it. You are the Supreme Judge, the Lord Nurturer and Sustainer of all beings. Whatever the great ones in this world have, they have because of You. You are the One Who comes to the aid of those in need. We are all prisoners in chains — each and every one of us — and no one else can help us if You do not.

  ‘The seven heavens and all that exists therein belong to You. All beings — however great or insignificant — bow to Your command.

  ‘O Lord! You fashioned me from clay, resonant, dark and heavy, and breathed life into me from Your own spirit. Life is from You, for Yours alone is the power to quicken the dead. Tonight I stand before you as one who lives and breathes, it is true, but also as one whose very soul has died. Only Your mercy can save me now; only Your grace can rescue me from eternal perdition. Only Your compassion can turn my darkness into light, my night into day.’

  When Majnun had finished his prayer, he was overwhelmed by a deep sense of serenity. No longer did he feel the need to scan the horizons or scout the night sky. His heart had found a resting-place and when sleep stole into his eyes, he did not notice it. Soon he was dreaming, and in his dreams he saw strange things:

  Out of the ground in front of him a tree appeared suddenly and started to grow. Rapidly it shot up before his eyes until it was towering above him. Following it as it continued to shoot up to the heavens, Majnun noticed a bird perched on one of the topmost branches. Something in the bird’s beak was glittering. The bird left the tree and hovered above Majnun awhile. Then it opened its beak and let the glittering object fall. The glittering object was a jewel, and it fell directly on to Majnun’s head. And there it remained, like the shining centrepiece of a royal diadem.

  Majnun awoke just as the sun was rising. His precious dream had vanished, but his whole being was filled by a feeling of happiness and inner joy. He had not felt so untroubled and peaceful for a long time. His body felt light, as though it had the power of flight. Was his soul about to take wing? Was this sudden burst of happiness all because of a simple dream?

  Chapter 39

  Often a dream is so real, so full of the light of truth, that its effulgence permeates our whole being and brightens our waking hours. Such was Majnun’s dream. When he woke, he woke to a morning whose possibilities seemed endless. The air was crystal-clear and filled with a scent that could only have wafted down from Paradise itself; each breeze was like the breath of Christ, sent to awaken the dead and alert them to the beauty of living.

  The day, the whole life that stretched ahead, seemed to Majnun to be a wondrous rose-garden, filled with magic. How could the seeds of misfortune take root in such heavenly soil?

  Fate, too, had grown tired of Majnun’s suffering and so She had dealt him hand after hand of happiness. But was it too late?

  Majnun was sitting on the mountainside, in one of his tiny retreats that were surrounded by rocks for protection. His animals were nearby, as usual, some sleeping, some keeping guard.

  Suddenly, he caught sight of a small dustcloud at the very bottom of the valley. Violet-coloured in the pale ochre light of morning, it whirled like a dervish as it moved upwards. Slowly, it came nearer until it looked like a veil covering a woman’s face. And just as it is sometimes possible to perceive the face behind the veil, Majnun could see that the swirling dust hid a rider, a rider clad in deep violet whose steed was moving like the wind.

  ‘Who is he and what does he want?’ thought Majnun. ‘There is neither tent nor caravanserai for miles around; what is he doing here?’ Clearly, the rider was looking for him, for Majnun. Majnun rose to his feet, his heart beating wildly. Could it be the same black camel-rider who once brought him the news of Layla’s marriage to Ibn Salam?

  The rider reined in his horse and dismounted, covering the last twenty paces over the rocks on foot and with considerable difficulty, for as Majnun could now see, his visitor was an old man and his face was quite unfamiliar.

  Majnun lifted his hand to quieten his animals, who had begun to stir and growl. Then he went forward to greet the rider.

  Majnun said kindly, ‘Noble sir, it seems that you have lost your way. Tell me, where are you bound? Or could it be that you are here to see me? No, that could not be, for we are strangers to each other. I like your face, but my animals do not trust you: see how they growl and snarl. And I feel that I should not t
rust you either. As they say, those who have been bitten by a snake will recoil at the mere sight of a rope! I have been bitten by such a snake — no, it was not a snake, it was a dragon!

  ‘Some time ago, another rider came to me and drove a stake through my heart: the splinters are there still and cause me great pain. So you see, I have a right to mistrust you. And if you have come to finish what he started, you had better keep silent and retrace your steps immediately.’

  Hearing these words, the stranger threw himself at Majnun’s feet and cried, ‘Among all creatures you are the noblest, for you have tamed the wildest of beasts and made them your boon companions! Gazelles nuzzle against you and give you their love; tigers brush against you with tenderness and affection; lions gambol with you as though they were tabby cats bought from a market stall.

  ‘Why should you and your animals be afraid of a frail old man like me? I wish you no harm; I am here with a message from your beloved. It is a secret message, a missive such as no one has ever brought before. It is from her to you, and to you alone. If you still want me to remain silent and retrace my steps, so be it, but I think you had better let me speak.’

  Such words Majnun had not expected, and his heart was suddenly filled with hope. Grasping the old man by the shoulders he said, ‘For the love of God, speak, man! Speak quickly and put me out of my misery!’

  The old man continued, ‘I know that Fate has been unkind to you: your stars have behaved like a pack of obstinate mules, but there is no reason why you should not tame them! But first let me tell you what happened to me.

  ‘A few days ago, I happened to pass by a camp of tents close to a garden — a shady grove with streams, flowers and tall palms. I walked around for a while until I saw someone sitting alone, all but hidden by leaves. I say “someone”, but in reality I thought I had chanced upon a star that had fallen down from heaven! It seemed as though the garden was the Garden of Paradise itself, and she one of the houris promised to the faithful.