The teacher occupies a special place in Sufism and there is a very close bond between teacher and disciple. But as there are many false teachers, the disciple has to be careful and make sure of the genuineness of the teacher. The genuine teacher gives instructions and then leaves the disciple on his own. The teachings are not the same for every aspirant but vary according to the nature and constitution of the seeker. The Sufi teacher is called by various names such as Arif (sage), Murshid (guide), Pir (Elder) or Sheikh (chief). The disciple must have complete trust in the ability of the Teacher or Guide. Complete faith, obedience, submission of the will, respect, confidence, and secrecy on the part of the disciple is very essential. The function of the teacher is to remove the veils which hide the truth from the aspirant. The disciple must begin with humility, must slowly understand the point of view of the teacher.

Once the teaching begins, the aspirant must not hope for any miraculous transformation. The teacher brings about gradual transformation in the disciple—like the seed growing into a plant and then bearing flowers, fruits and so on—by prescribing various meditations. The teaching is given bit-by-bit, because if one is suddenly taken from a dark room into sunlight, he would be dazzled and not see anything at all (Sufi Mysticism by Krishna Bahdur). Especially is this true as regards experiencing Truth, Reality or God. There are twin terms, "Shining and Concealment," as regards perception of God. This is well illustrated by the famous, allegorical romance of Layla-Majnun. The tribe of Majnun ("the madman") interceded with the people of Layla so that Majnun could be allowed to be illuminated with "sight of Layla's beauty." Layla's tribe replied that there was no harm, but Majnun had no power to behold Layla's beauty. The story goes that acceding to the request, they brought him near Layla's tent and only lifted a corner of the tent. Majnun could glance only at the fold of Layla's skirt and yet fell senseless. Idries Shah remarks:

Illumination cannot be sustained by someone who is not ready for it. At the best it will throw him into an ecstatic state in which he is paralyzed, as it were, and unable to consummate the contact. This is why, although dervish poets speak of being "mad for love," they emphasize that this madness is the result of preview, not of genuine experience. It is recognized that genuine experience must take an active, mutual, meaningful form, not a form of useless intoxication. (The Sufis, p. 313)

One of the things that the teacher strives to do is to remove the disciple's habit of thinking according to a fixed pattern. One must fill up the grooves and not have a one-track mind. The disciple should not be in a hurry to jump to conclusions regarding cause and effect. This is illustrated by one of the stories of Mulla Nasruddin. Once the Mulla was passing by when a man fell off the roof. The man was not hurt, but Nasruddin was hospitalized. The Mulla said that what you can infer from this is that it is not certain that if a man falls from the roof he will break his neck. "He fell and I broke my neck."

The journey of the disciple is through various states and at every point he is tested by the Guide. The inward journey of the aspirant involving various psychological challenges and transformations is beautifully depicted in a classic of Sufism and Persian literature, called the "Parliament of Birds," by Fariduddin Attar. The birds, who represent humanity, are asked by their leader hoopoe, the Sufi, to go on a quest to find their mysterious King called Simurgh. Each bird is initially excited and then begins to make excuses, and hoopoe tells them that a spiritual aspirant should not be self-seeking but do what is right. The aspirant cannot make progress if he is complacent. The motive with which the discipline is undertaken is all important. Light on the Path says:

Seek out the way....Is it the way you desire or is it that there is dim perspective in your vision of great heights to be scaled by yourself, of a great future for you to encompass? Be warned. The way is to be sought for its own sake, not with regard to your feet that shall tread it. (pp. 4 and 17)

The birds are told that they would have to cross seven valleys; this reminds one of seven gates, or "seven strongholds held by cruel crafty Powers—passions incarnate," mentioned in The Voice of the Silence. In crossing the first valley, called the Valley of Quest, the disciple has to renounce all desires. Then, he has to cross the Valley of Love, where he would experience deep longing for the Beloved that has to be overcome. In the Valley of Detachment, the disciple has to overcome desires and dependence and transcend the love for outward physical form, etc.

One teacher remarks that Attar refers not only to the ecstatic who does not take his mysticism further than rapture. He also means the ecstatic's parallel, the person who feels frequent and incomplete love, and who, although deeply affected by it, is not regenerated and altered by it to such an extent that his very being undergoes a change. (The Sufis, p. 122)

Then he goes to the Valley of Unification where he learns to see Unity in diversity. Then comes the Valley of Astonishment where he becomes aware of the deeper knowledge. He then comes to the final Valley or the Valley of Death. Here he understands the paradox and the mystery, of how, even when the drop merges with the ocean, the drop remains the drop and is not annihilated.

Finally one has to shift from learning to wisdom. A true Sufi is not interested in book knowledge. Bullhe Shah, a Sufi of Punjab, was sent to school as a boy, and while the other boys mastered the entire alphabet, Bullhe was stuck with the first letter of the alphabet, Alif. The teacher tried to teach him other letters, but to no purpose. He was tutored by private tutors, but again to no avail. Finally, seeing his father's unhappiness, he ran away from home to the forest. It is said that in the forest he saw Alif (One Reality) manifested in everything—trees, hills, rocks, birds, beasts. He then came back to his teacher, bowed low and said, "I have learnt the lesson you were good enough to teach me," and asked his permission to write it on the wall. The teacher recognized the boy but granted him permission to write on the wall. Bullhe Shah wrote the letter "Alif" on the wall and it, of itself, divided into two. Alif represents the ONE, and as the Pythagoreans say, the, the One becomes Two, then Three and then Four and Seven and so on, giving rise to manifestation. When the teacher humbly accepted Bullhe Shah as teacher, Bullhe sang:

Leave your learning aside.
Fill not your room with tomes.
Your burden the mind with learning.
Cease; for it has no use.
In pursuing the false, lose not the true.
One Alif is all you need to know.

(Sufi Mysticism, pp. 145-46)

As Hazrat Inayat Khan, a Sufi teacher, points out, a mystic is not a dreamer but a balanced person—as wise in worldly, as in spiritual matters. For a mystic, God is all and all is God—the source and goal of all. God is not an abstraction for a mystic, but a Reality. At the same time, he knows that for others God is a concept and that they have not comprehended God fully. He may even sing with peasants in a procession and before a stone idol, for he has no desire to show them that his belief and realization are greater than the realization of others. (The Sufi Message of Hazrat Inayat Khan, Vol. X, pp. 14-15)

The Sufi does not worship anything but God, the Unique, and he holds that the existence and the place of God are not inferred by argument. That knowledge is the result of the Certitude (Yakina). There is the Science of Certainty, when truth is revealed through special states by experience and not by cerebration. God is with the Sufis, as with Theosophy, Unspeakable, the beginningless and endless Reality. It is beautifully expressed by a Sufi mystic, Hasan of Basra:

"From where does that light come?" I asked a child who was walking with a candle held in his hand. The child blew it out at once. "Tell me where the light has gone" he said, "then I will tell you where it came from." (Sufi Mysticism, p. 69)

There is the doctrine of essence, which is of great importance when applied to the relation between personality and the Self. Thus, there is the essence of a thing that is the inner essence (dhat) and the Truth of a thing (hakikat). Truth is the inner meaning or objective reality. People normally perceive outward use of a thing. We know a lamp to give light and heat, and that it can be used for decoration. But other functions of its true reality are imperceptible for the ordinary man. (The Sufis, p. 308)

An object as we see it is not identical with the object as it is in itself. So, Kant said that there is something like a "thing-in-itself." Absolute knowledge is the knowledge of the thing-in-itself.

Dervish thinking is based on the concept of essence. They say: "He who knows his essential self, knows his God." Knowledge of essential self is the first step. A Dervish has to learn to appreciate various stages and conditions of the essence and its progressive refinement. A theoretician may say, "I will think this out," but a Dervish says, "I will prepare myself to perceive this." In understanding the human spirit (essence), i.e., in acquiring self-knowledge there are certain hindrances or veils: (1) Desires (2) Separation (being self centred) (3) Hypocrisy (4) Desire for Praise and Love (5) Illusions of almost divine importance (6) Parsimony (7) Greed (8) Irresponsibility (9) Inconsistancy (10) Negligence—Slothfulness. (The Sufis, pp. 309-10)

(To be concluded)