Can a King Be a Vali?
By Professor Nazeer Ahmed
Concord, CA
The aging seer sat on a coir mat in the masjid courtyard, his glistening white beard matching the spotless white of his turban. His weathered face showed not a wrinkle from eighty years of its earthly life. His large, penetrating eyes darted forth like laser beams from one student to the other, eager souls who had gathered around him after the fajr prayers and were seated in a halqa (circle) with the sage as its locus. They listened, absorbing every word of his wisdom like the parched earth absorbs the first drops of monsoon rain.
“There lived in a land far away a noble king”, the sage began his sohbet. “He was God-fearing and just. He walked the streets of his Golden City at night, disguised as a beggar to find out for himself if his people were happy. When he found a hungry man, he offered him food. When he found a woman in distress, he offered her help. When he found an old man with tattered clothes, he brought him clothes. He tolerated neither obscenity nor oppression in his realm. It was said that the angels walked the streets of his kingdom bringing with them, with God’s permission, rain in due measure and plentiful harvests.
The king lived in his own white marble palace high on a plateau at the center of his city. On moonlit nights, the palace seemed to float in the clouds, like a heavenly abode, lit from a light beyond celestial source. The king was surrounded with opulence but he was a man with a singular focus. When he was not busy with matters of state, he was in a state of dhikr (remembrance of the Divine). Everyone said he was a great king. Some even said he was an angel who had descended from the heavens to rule the land.
”There lived not far away from the Golden city a hermit. He had renounced the world and retired into the forest where he spent his time in penance. His clothes were tattered, his beard unkempt. He was so extreme that would not even eat normal food, living off the bark of trees.
“One day a poor man who had gone to the forest to gather some wood chanced upon the hermit. Struck by the pitiable condition of the hermit, the poor man asked him why he was so extreme in his renunciation of the world.
“You cannot be a vali and a king at the same time”, replied the hermit.
“The poor man told him about the king who lived in a grand palace and yet was so God-fearing that people called him a vali.
“That is impossible,” said the hermit, “I will go and confront the king.”
“The hermit ventured forth from his forest hideout and went into the city to seek out the king and confront him about his piety. People told him to wait in a street corner at night so his tattered clothes and unkempt beard would catch the attention of the king.
“So the hermit waited in a street corner. Sure enough, the king, dressed as a beggar himself, walked the city streets at night, looking for any man, woman or child who needed help. The hermit caught the king’s attention.
“Approaching the hermit, the king said, “You seem to be in distress, sire. How can I help you?”
“Here at last was the chance that the hermit was waiting for. “I hear you are a king and you live in a palace. Yet , people call you a vali. That is impossible. Either you give up your palace and come with me into the forest and become a vali , or you instruct people not to call you a vali.”
“I will agree to your suggestion”, replied the king, “but on one condition. You spend a day with me and do as I say”. The hermit accepted the offer.
“The following morning the King ordered that all the streets in the city and all the buildings be decorated with lights. The city took on a festive atmosphere. Canopies were erected and a thousand lights illuminated the city.
“The king ordered that a cup be filled to the brim with water. He handed the cup to the hermit. He asked the hermit to walk from one end of the city holding the cup in one hand. He then ordered the executioner to walk with the hermit, sword in hand.
“If the hermit drops even a single drop from this cup, you chop his head off”, ordered the king.
“The hermit protested but to no avail. It was a royal command and it had to be obeyed. Reluctantly, he started the walk, the full cup in one hand, trembling in his bones from fear of the fate that awaited him if he but spilled one drop from the cup. He kept his gaze on the cup, even as he inched forward, making sure that the water in the cup would not spill.
“The walk seemed like eternity. Every step was a trial. The legs of the hermit did the walking but his upper body was rigid like a monolithic stone. The executioner was right with him, his long, sharp sword glistening in the sun, ready to chop off his head if he but spilled one single drop of water from the cup.
“At last, the hermit arrived at the other end of the city. The king was waiting for him with his entourage.
“Did you notice the lights and decorations in the city?” the king asked the hermit. “They were indeed beautiful, were they not?”
“Your royal highness! I was in state of terror for my life and was so focused on the cup that I did not see a single light on the road”, replied the hermit.
“It is the same with me”, admonished the pious king,” I am surrounded with luxuries. But I am so focused on Divine presence that I am not even aware that the luxuries exist. My vision, my thoughts, my actions all have a singular focus, and that is the Divine Name”. The hermit understood.”
The seer at the masjid concluded his sohbet with an admonishment to his students: “Taqwa (piety) lies not in self-abnegation and renunciation of the world. Taqwa lies in focusing your consciousness on Divine presence even when you are surrounded by the embellishments of the world. If you lose sight of Divine presence, your executioner, namely your Nafs, is always ready to slaughter you”.
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