In Honour of Shaykh Zakaria Bagharib (q.s.)

A long time ago, I gave the bai'ah, the reenactment of Hudaibiyah to the Naqshbandi Haqqani Sufi Order, the Keepers of the Golden Chain.  This was before my official conversion to Islam.

The son of a wali, of the sons of awliya,

The student of awliya, of the students of awliya,

The teacher of awliya, of the teachers of awliya.

Of a spiritual lineage that goes back to Abu Bakr as-Siddique (r.a.), the First of the Khulafa ar-Rashideen, mentioned in the Qur'an as One of Two in the Cave, the Affirmer of Muhammad after the Isra' wa Mi'raj.

His was a state of hal hidden, of a maqam secluded, and a darajat secret.  But to the Knowers, he was the Keeper of Secrets.  He was my beloved shaykh.

Allah (s.w.t.) has blest me in that I have studied at the feet of many, and I have taken from many more.  But whenever I fell from the Path, whenever I undertook a burden beyond what I could, whenever I became a swineherd dancing away from al-Haqq; it was Shaykh Zakaria (q.s.) who brought me back to the fold.

And most of what I have learnt, it was from him.  And though I never practiced much of what I know until now, he never gave up on me.  He named me again, Sayf ad-Deen, the Sword of the Faith, after I had forgotten it.  And he told me the 70 ayat of sabr and to never give up.  For who gives up on the Most Merciful of the Merciful except those who are astray?

According to Shaykh Maqsud (q.s.), he died the death of a shahid.  According to Shaykh Adnan Kabbani (q.s.), he died the death of a wali.  To me, he died as my beloved Shaykh.  And whatever I have learned and practiced over the years, it is from him and may the barakah of these actions reach him.

I never shed more than two tears in public in all my life, until I carried his body.  He was my Shaykh, and he will be greatly missed.

We are Travellers of the Way.

And this world will pass away.

We are sleepers dreaming.

As time is streaming.

Until the Day of Standing,

Until the Call of Rising.

Where every soul will know its worth,

That we are nothing but earth.

And we are called not to the Garden,

Neither is the Fire a Burden.

We are called to the Presence,

A Return to the Essence.

Harlequin