Chapter 20

He was a Sufi, a Muslim mystic. He sought fana, union with God, and his relationship with God was personal and loving. "If you take two steps towards God," he used to tell me, "God runs to you!"

He was a very plain-featured man, with nothing in his looks or in his dress that made memory cry hark. I'm not surprised I didn't see him the first time we met. Even when I knew him very well, encounter after encounter, I had difficulty recognizing him. His name was Satish Kumar. These are common names in Tamil Nadu, so the coincidence is not so remarkable. Still, it pleased me that this pious baker, as plain as a shadow and of solid health, and the Communist biology teacher and science devotee, the walking mountain on stilts, sadly afflicted with polio in his childhood, carried the same name. Mr. and Mr. Kumar taught me biology and Islam. Mr. and Mr. Kumar led me to study zoology and religious studies at the University of Toronto. Mr. and Mr. Kumar were the prophets of my Indian youth.

We prayed together and we practised dhikr, the recitation of the ninety-nine revealed names of God. He was a hafiz, one who knows the Qur'an by heart, and he sang it in a slow, simple chant. My Arabic was never very good, but I loved its sound. The guttural eruptions and long flowing vowels rolled just beneath my comprehension like a beautiful brook. I gazed into this brook for long spells of time. It was not wide, just one man's voice, but it was as deep as the universe.

I described Mr. Kumar's place as a hovel. Yet no mosque, church or temple ever felt so sacred to me. I sometimes came out of that bakery feeling heavy with glory. I would climb onto my bicycle and pedal that glory through the air.

One such time I left town and on my way back, at a point where the land was high and I could see the sea to my left and down the road a long ways, I suddenly felt I was in heaven. The spot was in fact no different from when I had passed it not long before, but my way of seeing it had changed. The feeling, a paradoxical mix of pulsing energy and profound peace, was intense and blissful. Whereas before the road, the sea, the trees, the air, the sun all spoke differently to me, now they spoke one language of unity. Tree took account of road, which was aware of air, which was mindful of sea, which shared things with sun. Every element lived in harmonious relation with its neighbour, and all was kith and kin. I knelt a mortal; I rose an immortal. I felt like the centre of a all circle coinciding with the centre of a much larger one. Atman met Allah.

One other time I felt God come so close to me. It was in Canada, much later. I was visiting friends in the country. It was winter. I was out alone on a walk on their large property and returning to the house. It was a clear, sunny day after a night of snowfall. All nature was blanketed in white. As I was coming up to the house, I turned my head. There was a wood and in that wood, a small clearing. A breeze, or perhaps it was an animal, had shaken a branch. Fine snow was falling through the air, glittering in the sunlight. In that falling golden dust in that sun-splashed clearing, I saw the Virgin Mary. Why her, I don't know. My devotion to Mary was secondary. But it was her. Her skin was pale. She was wearing a white dress and a blue cloak; I remember being struck by their pleats and folds. When I say I saw her, I don't quite mean it literally, though she did have body and colour. I felt I saw her, a vision beyond vision. I stopped and squinted. She looked beautiful and supremely regal. She was smiling at me with loving kindness. After some seconds she left me. My heart beat with fear and joy.

The presence of God is the finest of rewards.

  第二十章

    他是苏非派教徒，一个穆斯林神秘主义者。他寻求个人意志在真主意志面前的毁灭，即与上帝的结合，他与上帝的关系是私人关系，是充满了爱的关系。“如果你向上帝走两步，”他曾经对我说，“上帝就会向你跑来！”

    他的长相十分平常，容貌和衣着没有任何能让人在回忆时猛然想起的特别之处。我们第一次见面时我没有看见他，这一点儿也不让我感到奇怪。甚至当我非常了解他 之后，在我们一次又一次见面之后，我仍然很难认出他来。他名叫萨蒂什·库马尔。在泰米尔纳德这个名字很平常，因此这个巧合并不十分引入注目。即便如此，我 仍然很高兴看到他们俩有同样的名字。这位虔诚的画包师像影子一样平平常常，身体结实健康，而生物老师是位共产主义者，虔诚的科学信徒，童年时不幸患上小儿 麻痹症，现在踩在高跷上走路，那样子就像一座移动的大山。库马尔先生和库马尔先生教我生物学和伊斯兰教。库马尔先生和库马尔先生引导我在进多伦多大学以后 学了动物学和宗教学。库马尔先生和库马尔先生是我在印度的青年时期的先知。

    我们一起祷告，一起进行虔诚赞颂真主安拉的仪式，即背诵上帝的九十九个启示名。他是个哈菲兹，会背诵整部《：可兰经》，还会用缓慢、简单的音调吟唱经文。 我的阿拉伯文一向不太好，但我却喜欢它的发音。从喉咙里突然发出的声音和拉长的流畅的元音就在我的理解力的层面之下滚滚而过，像一条美丽的小溪。我长久地 注视着这条小溪。它并不宽，里面只有一个人的声音，但却像宇宙一般深邃。

    我把库马尔先生的住处描绘成一间简陋的小屋。然而从没有任何清真寺、教堂或庙宇像这间小屋一样让我感觉如此神圣。有时候我从那间面包房出来，心里沉甸甸地装满了天国的荣耀。我会跨上自行车，将那份荣耀踏进空气里。

    有一次我出城去，在回来的路上，在一处地面很高，左边能看见大海的地方，沿着长长的下坡走着的时候，我突然感到自己是在天堂里了。实际上这个地方和我刚才 经过的时候没有什么不同，但是我看待它的方式却发生了变化。这种由跃动的活力和极度的平静自相矛盾地混舍而成的感觉十分强烈，充满了幸福极乐。在此之前， 道路、大海、树木、空气、太阳都对我说着不同的话，而现在它们却说着同一种语言。树木注意到了道路，道路意识到了空气，空气留意着大海，大海与太阳分享一 切。自然环境中的每一个元素都与周围的其他元素和谐共处，大家都是亲友。我跪下时是个凡人；站起来时却已不朽。我感到自己就像一个小圆的中心，和一个大得 多的大圆的中心相重合。自我和安拉相遇了。

    还有一次，我感到上帝离我很近。那是在加拿大，在很久以后。我正在乡间看望朋友。那是个冬天。我独自一人在他们家的大园子里散步，当时正往回走。前一天夜 里下了一夜的雪，那天天气晴朗，阳光灿烂。大自然中的一切都盖上了一床白色的毯子。就在我朝房子走去时，我转过头。那里有一片树林，树林里有一块空地。一 阵微风，或者也许是一只动物，让一根树枝摇动起来。’细细的雪从空中落下，在阳光下闪着光。在那片洒满了阳光的空地上，那片纷纷落下的金色的尘雾中，我看 见了圣母马利亚。为什么是她，我不知道。我对马利亚的虔诚是第二位的。但那就是她。她的皮肤是白色的。她穿着一件白色长裙，披着一件蓝色斗篷；我记得那… 道道的褶裥和皱痕给我留下了很深的印象。我说我看见了她，并不是真的如此，尽管她的确有躯体有肤色。我感到自己看见了她，那是幻象之外的幻象。我停住脚 步，眯起眼睛。她看上去非常美丽，非常威严。她带着充满了爱的善意看着我。几秒钟后她离开了我。我的心因为敬畏和快乐而狂跳起来。

    神的降临是最优美的报酬。