Ma'ee Sahiba

Tall, with rosy cheeks and beautiful eyes, lips like petals of a flower, an attractive face on a graceful neck, hair like strands of silver, fragrant, and walking ever so gracefully, a Ma'ee sahiba ['an elderly lady'] came to visit. As she stepped into the room, there was a flash of light, and colours of the rainbow spread before my eyes. Ma'ee Sahiba gazed at me with hazy every and said, 'Son, I had a desire to see you; that desire has been fulfilled."

With eyes wide open in surprise and a mind still not focused, I milked, "What is your name? Who are you? And where have Ali come from?"

With an angelic smile she said, "I have two names. One name Imaginary and fictitious, and the other name is opposite to Imaginary and fictitious conscious."

I had never heard such a definition of a name. With surprise and inquisitiveness I asked, Can names be unreal too? Are same not means of identification!"

Staring, in space in a rather strange way, she said, "When was your name given?"

I respectfully replied, "When I was born."

She laughed and said, "Are you still the same person who was born then? Hasn't every single part of your body changed? Haven't you come out of the cradle and now run around? When you were born, were your hands as big as they are now? And what is your opinion regarding your height and weight?"

Feeling foolish and embarrassed, I remained silent. As curiosity goaded again, I asked, "Who are you?"

She said, "I have two types of existences. On one existence, death befalls at every moment and in every instance, and within the same moment, a new body is formed. This existence of mine is, at every moment, death, and at every moment, life. My other existence is one upon which moments, hours, days months and years, have no effect. It is neither born, nor does it die."

At hearing this talk of [spiritual] secrets and symbolism, it occurred in my mind that she must be a very learned and scholarly person...or a manifestation of marvels [‘mazher-ul-ajaa’aib’] As soon as this thought entered my mind, Ma’ee. Sahiba said, "No son, I'm not a learned or scholarly person. 1 cannot even write a letter. I am a daasi ['servant/ devotee'] of Khwaja Ghareeb Nawazr"."

"You are a daasi of Khwaja Ghareeb Nawazr"? Where is your residence?"

"Son, residence depends upon one's station. I have two k of stations in life. One station is closed within time and space I feel imprisoned and confined within this status. Even a few miles of my journey, I have to rely on resources. My other status is one where I'm not dependent upon resources [where] resources lay under my command."

Hearing this conversation about time and space, my rand grew akin to that of a 60 year-old farmer who is being explained the atomic formula.

When Ma’ee Sahiba saw that the child had become nervous, she came forward a few steps and kindly put her hand over my head. As her gentle hand was still on my head, children loudly began to call out [in excitement], "Daadi Amman [paternal grandmother'] is here, Daadi Amman is here!" Daadi Amman” embraced her innocent grandchildren and showered them with prayers.

The older daughter put her hands around her neck and said, " Daadi Amman” tell us something about your life?" Ma'ee Sahiba was quiet for a little while. Tears started to flow from her eyes, and she started her life story thus:

My name was Jayoti. I was probably 14 years old then, when my parents arranged for my marriage. I was still a bride when my husband passed away. My in-laws started exchanging views on performing my sati ['old Hindu custom of burning the widow along with her deceased husband's body']. When I happened to chance upon [their plan] I left my in-laws' house in the dead of night and came to my parents' home. My mother embraced me. My father, however, was a religious man; he did not like me arriving in that fashion. When most of the night had elapsed, my mother secretly got me out of the house from the back door. I ran and I ran until sun started to rise from the horizon. I laid myself down between some shrubs and trees all day, crying and sobbing, lamenting my fate. As sun hid its face back into the night, I started running without any destination in mind. With bleeding feet, a weak and frail body, and a dry mouth, somehow or the other, I reached the shrine of Khwaja Ghareeb Nawazr's. I was so overcome with fear and terror that I entered the tomb, locked it from inside, and lay there with my arms around the grave of Khwaja Sahib(RA. I entered into such a state of peacefulness as if I was a girl two or three years old and the grave of Khwaja Ghareeb Nawaz was my mother's lap. Here, I was filled with this blissful experience, and there, outside the tomb, people were banging on the door and screaming that "a madwoman has entered [the tomb]." The people kept yelling and screaming and pounding on the door, but I was in an entirely peaceful state. [What they were doing] did not affect me at all. Eventually as I was completely relieved of [my earlier fear and anxiety], I opened the door. I was then given the assignment of sweeping the floor there. As Pakistan was created, I fell in love with a woman just like me, and came to Pakistan with that lady."

The younger daughter said, "Daadi Amman, who gave you thh address for our house?"

Ma'ee Sahiba gave a loud and hearty laugh and said, "Daughter for the person who has found his true Master, it is not difficult to find any address, any destination, or any location."

God be praised! What a blessed day it was, for holy light showered like rain the entire day. Lights of so many colours shone out of all parts of the house. It was an atmosphere which could only be felt, and not described. At night, at the time of departure, I paid homage to Ma'ee Sahiba. I took her beautiful, ever so soft hands, kissed them, and touched the, with my eyes, and said with an overwhelmed heart, "Ma’ee Sahiba, Please [honour me] with some advice."

Ma'ee Sahiba, all of a sudden, started looking towards the sky in such a manner that her eyelashes did not move any the movement of her eyeballs came to a standstill. It seemed as though her brain, both were focused upon an unseen point. All of us, in a stale of rapture, kept staring at the completely absorbed and enlightened face of Amman ['mother/ grandmother/elderly lady']. A loud voice sounded, "Son!"... Her Shahadah ['Index finger of right hand'] finger moved, and with hand raised towards the sky, her tongue uttered these words..."Son! When the Lord is pleased; all are pleased."