Once there was a bold mureed of sorts

Who went and took his sufi shaykh to court!

He stood before the judge with indignation

The shaykh stood in the docks with resignation

“So what’s your case?” began the magistrate

As jury, public, media stood in wait:

“Dear judge,” began the bold mureed of sorts

“By this man I was guided, helped and taught

But now I’ve realised, he is of no use!

As he has subjected me to spiritual abuse!”

“Describe in detail your experience,”

The judge advised with this august appearance:

“Well,” said the mureed, “Let me start with this

He made me give my own ego the miss!

He forced me to reduce my reputation

By begging in the streets with humiliation

Then he said that I would be inspired

If I gave up my ego’s deep desires.”

The mureed wept, tears streaming down his face

He looked up to the judge: “Sorry your grace.”

“So what was the result?” enquired the judge

“Well here’s the crux of my permitted grudge

This sufi shaykh committed heresy

By making me forego my agency

He forced me to ingest unearthly wine

Which he said had appeared from the divine

And then I lost all concept of my self

All I could see was light and heavenly wealth

I was imprisoned in the malakut

Where angels served my needs all to my suit

But here’s the worst reality you see

All I could see was Him; nowhere was me!”

The mureed opened his indignant eyes

And stared around the court in great surprise

For judge and jury looking rather guilty

Now stood before the shaykh swearing their fealty!

The judge said: “dear mureed, you got us thinking

I think we’ll have what you have just been drinking!”