#sufiteachings

By the Pen of Divine Light and the Ink of Eternal Wisdom

Prologue: The World Before the Flood

Idrees (AS) entered the world in the city of Babylon, cradled by a lineage of light: he was the great-grandson of Seth (Sheeth AS), the son of Adam (AS) who carried the mantle of prophecy after the tragedy of Cain and Abel. From infancy, Idrees was unlike other children. His eyes, it is said, reflected the constellations, and his first words were not of childish folly but the glorification of Allah: "Subḥān Allāh!"

By age seven, he had mastered the tongues of men and the silent language of the cosmos. He would wander into the desert at night, tracing the dance of the planets with his finger, whispering, "These are but signs for those who reflect."Elders marveled at his wisdom, while tyrants bristled at his defiance. When the priests of Babylon demanded he bow to their idols, the young Idrees replied, "Shall I prostrate to a stone that cannot hear, see, or breathe, while the Lord of the Throne calls me to His light?"

Chapter 2: The Prophet-Civilizer

At thirty, Idrees (AS) received revelation. Angels descended with tablets of emerald light, instructing him to "rise as a warner and a mercy." He became the first man to wield the pen, etching divine laws onto parchment made from papyrus reeds. To a people clothed in animal hides, he taught the art of sewing: "Stitch garments to cover your bodies, as piety covers the soul." To astronomers lost in superstition, he mapped the orbits of planets, revealing how they bowed in submission to Allah’s command.

Yet his greatest battle was against the Jabābira—the giants of tyranny who ruled Babylon. These kings, descendants of the wicked, had allied with fallen angels (the Watchers of the Book of Enoch), who taught them black magic and the secrets of war. Idrees (AS) confronted them in their marble palaces, his voice thunderous yet gentle: "You build towers to reach the heavens, but the highest station is a heart purified by tawḥīd!"

Chapter 3: The Ascension: A Bridge Between Worlds

For 365 years, Idrees (AS) walked the earth, his beard whitened by time but his spirit unyielding. One night, as he prayed atop Mount Qāf—a mountain of sapphire said to encircle the earth—the angel of death, ʿIzrāʿīl (AS), appeared not to take his soul, but to escort him alive into the heavens.

In a whirlwind of light, Idrees (AS) ascended through the seven celestial realms. In the fourth heaven, he met the Angel of Tears, who wept for humanity’s sins. In the sixth, he glimpsed the Preserved Tablet (al-Lawḥ al-Maḥfūẓ), its letters pulsating with the destiny of creation. Finally, at the boundary of the seventh heaven, Allah declared: "This is your station, O Idrees, until the Hour is established."

In Shia tradition, this ascension mirrors the Miʿrāj of Prophet Muhammad (SAW), and Idrees (AS) is said to reside in paradise alongside Khidr (AS), eternally alive, interceding for those who seek knowledge.

Chapter 4: The Bloodline of Salvation: From Idrees to Nuh (AS)

Idrees (AS) left behind a son, Methuselah (Mutushalikh AS), whose name meant "man of the javelin"—a symbol of the prophetic truth that would pierce the darkness of the coming age. Methuselah’s grandson would be Noah (Nuh AS), the ark-builder, who inherited his forefather’s resolve.

The Book of Enoch foretells this lineage: "From his seed shall arise a plant of righteousness, and he shall build an ark in the day of wrath." In the Dead Sea Scrolls, Enoch warns Noah of the Flood, urging him to "carry the fire of Adam’s covenant." Shia narrations add that Idrees (AS) entrusted Methuselah with celestial books, which Noah (AS) later preserved in the ark—a lineage of knowledge spanning from Adam to the Imams of Ahl al-Bayt (AS).

Chapter 5: Echoes in the Heavens: Enoch in Judeo-Christian Lore

The Book of Enoch, rediscovered in Qumran’s caves, paints him as a scribe of judgment who walks among angels. In Jewish mysticism, he becomes Metatron, the celestial scribe. Christians honor him in the Epistle of Jude: "Enoch prophesied, saying, ‘Behold, the Lord comes with ten thousands of His holy ones!’"

Yet Islam strips away the myth, returning him to his essence: Idrees (AS), the mortal prophet, whose ascension was not deification but divine favor. Where the Book of Enoch speaks of fallen angels breeding giants (the Nephilim), the Quran hints at corruption without compromise: "And [We sent] Idrees... every soul will taste death" (Quran 21:35).

Epilogue: The Eternal Teacher

Today, Idrees (AS) watches from his celestial post. To the Sufi, he is the patron of mystics; to the scholar, the father of letters. In Shia lore, he whispers secrets to the Imams—for did not Imam Jaʿfar al-Ṣādiq (AS) say, "The knowledge of Idrees is inscribed in the hearts of the truthful"?

His legacy is a covenant: that knowledge, when wedded to faith, becomes a ladder to the Divine. As Babylon’s towers crumbled, his words endured: "The ink of the scholar is holier than the blood of the martyr." In every child who gazes at the stars, in every pen that writes "Bismillāh," Idrees (AS) lives on—a prophet not of endings, but of beginnings.

Echoes in the Courtyard: Farid’s Living Wisdom

In many old homes across South Asia, the courtyard is the heart of the house. Walls surround it, yet the sky remains open above. Voices spoken there linger longer than expected. Conversations soften in its shared space. For Baba Farid, wisdom moved much like those courtyard echoes—spoken once, yet returning again and again across generations.

The courtyard in his teaching symbolizes the living center of human connection. It is not a throne room of authority, nor a private chamber of isolation. It is a shared middle ground—where listening, reflection, and everyday life intersect.

Baba Farid did not imagine wisdom as a sealed doctrine. He saw it as resonance. A truth spoken sincerely continues traveling long after the speaker has gone. Like sound bouncing gently between courtyard walls, insight finds new ears, new contexts, new meanings.

This is why his teachings still circulate centuries later.

What he offered was not rigid instruction but living guidance. Words meant to adapt as life evolves. Baba Farid trusted that wisdom grows deeper when people revisit it through their own experiences.

In modern times, this idea feels refreshing. Today information travels faster than understanding. Gen Z scrolls through oceans of advice. Millennials balance competing philosophies of productivity and healing. Gen X navigates leadership while questioning inherited systems.

Everyone receives noise.

But echoes are different from noise.

Noise disappears quickly. Echoes linger.

The courtyard metaphor teaches us something subtle: wisdom becomes meaningful only when we pause long enough to hear its return.

Baba Farid understood that insight rarely lands fully the first time. Sometimes a sentence heard at twenty reveals its depth only at forty. Sometimes hardship transforms a forgotten teaching into clarity.

The echo is not repetition; it is maturation.

And this is why the courtyard matters. In a courtyard, sound does not vanish into distance—it circulates. It returns softened, reframed, enriched.

Baba Farid’s wisdom functioned like this open space. He created environments where people could bring questions, doubts, and lived struggles. His role was not to impose certainty but to allow truth to reverberate within them.

This approach requires humility.

A teacher who demands immediate agreement shuts down the echo. A teacher who invites reflection allows wisdom to travel.

That is precisely what Baba Farid practiced.

He trusted that insight becomes alive when people engage with it personally. When they wrestle with it. When they test it against reality.

In the courtyard of his presence, farmers, scholars, travelers, and skeptics could all listen together. Each heard something slightly different, because each stood at a different place in life.

Yet the echo connected them.

For today’s generations, the lesson is profound: wisdom is not consumed; it is revisited.

You return to it at different ages. Different crises. Different stages of love and loss.

And every time you return, it sounds slightly new.

This is what makes wisdom living rather than historical.

Baba Farid believed that the real measure of insight is not how impressive it sounds initially—but how often it comes back to guide you when life grows complicated.

An echo that still speaks decades later is stronger than a lecture that dazzles once.

And here lies the quiet power of the courtyard: it reminds us that wisdom thrives in shared space. Not inside rigid ideologies, but inside conversation.

Inside reflection.

Inside humility.

The courtyard remains open to sky for a reason. It acknowledges that truth ultimately belongs to something larger than us.

🌿 Practical Toolkit: Creating Your Own Courtyard of Wisdom

1. The Echo Pause

When you hear meaningful advice, write it down instead of reacting immediately. Revisit it days later to see how its meaning evolves.

2. The Courtyard Conversation

Have one weekly conversation focused on listening rather than persuading. Let ideas circulate before judging them.

3. The Return Practice

Revisit a meaningful quote, teaching, or memory once a month. Notice how your interpretation has changed.

4. The Silence Interval

Spend five minutes daily in quiet reflection. Wisdom often returns in stillness.

5. The Shared Reflection

Discuss a life lesson with someone younger or older than you. Generational perspectives deepen the echo.

6. The Life Journal

Farid’s River: Flowing Through Faith and Fire

A river is born soft — a mere trickle — yet it carves mountains, feeds civilizations, and reaches oceans no matter how many obstacles stand in its path. Baba Farid often used the river as a metaphor for the spiritual journey: an unbroken flow through faith and fire, tenderness and trials, surrender and strength.

To him, faith was not mere belief — it was movement. The river never asks if the path is safe; it simply flows. Likewise, Baba Farid taught that true faith is not passive; it is a fearless surrender to the Divine current, even when life burns with uncertainty.

He lived in an era where survival required resilience — invasions, droughts, poverty. Yet his heart flowed like water: soft, generous, and unafraid. He showed that faith is not the absence of fire but the ability to move through it without losing your essence. Water passing through flames may hiss, but it does not stop being water.

This is the paradox that sets Baba Farid’s wisdom apart: softness is not weakness; softness is what survives. Fire consumes what is rigid; it purifies what flows.

He often reminded seekers: “The river reaches the sea not by force, but by persistence.”

Today’s world — overwhelmed by pressure, identity conflicts, anxiety, and the demand to constantly “perform” — needs this message more than ever. Gen Z battles comparison and chaos, Millennials carry responsibility and burnout, Gen X balances family and aging parents. Each generation walks through its own fire. And yet, like water, we are meant to continue moving.

Baba Farid believed that every soul is a river. The source is divine. The journey is sacred. The obstacles are teachers. And the destination is unity.

Flowing Through Faith

Faith, in his eyes, was not blind acceptance. It was deep remembering — remembering that we are held, guided, and carried. The river does not question the direction of its flow; it trusts the pull of gravity. Similarly, faith is the gravity of the soul — the invisible force pulling us toward truth.

Faith for Baba Farid was also humility. Water never boasts, yet it nourishes everything. It never claims a shape, yet it takes all shapes. It flows low, not high — because only the low places can hold life.

Faith, then, is not an upward climb but a downward softening — becoming humble enough for wisdom to gather within.

Flowing Through Fire

Fire, in his teachings, represented trials, heartbreaks, losses, misunderstandings, delays, and the burning away of illusions.

Where most fear fire, Baba Farid saw purification. What cannot survive fire — ego, pride, false identity — is exactly what we are meant to release. What does survive — compassion, clarity, resilience — is what we are meant to keep.

His river metaphor carries an empowering truth: When faith flows, fire transforms rather than destroys.

He endured hardships without becoming hard. He passed through pain without letting pain define him. He taught seekers that the fire outside cannot burn you if the river inside keeps flowing.

The River’s Secret

At its heart, Baba Farid’s river is about motion with meaning. Stagnant water decays; moving water purifies. The same is true of the soul.

Do not freeze. Do not cling. Do not become a dam in your own path.

Flow through what scares you. Flow through what confuses you. Flow through what feels unfair.

Faith is the movement. Fire is the test. Flow is the transformation.

Practical Toolkit: Becoming Farid’s River in Daily Life

1. The Flow Breath (Morning Practice)

Inhale deeply for 4 seconds, exhale slowly for 6. As you breathe out, whisper inwardly: “I release. I flow.” This resets the nervous system and invites softness into your day.

2. The Fire Journal

Each time you face anger, fear, or stress, write:

What is burning me?

What is this fire trying to teach me? Over time, patterns of transformation reveal themselves.

3. The River Walk

Take a 10-minute walk daily with one intention: keep moving. No headphones, no agenda — just flow. Let your mind loosen like water.

4. The Let-Go Ritual

Once a day, release one small thing — a complaint, a grudge, a comparison, a fear. Say: “Water does not cling. Neither will I.”

5. The Faith Pause

Whenever life feels overwhelming, place your hand on your chest and affirm: “Something bigger carries me.” Remember the river’s source.

6. The Cool-Down Act

When someone’s words or behavior feels like fire, respond with one cooling action — a kind message, silence, or a compassionate question. You become water where others bring flames.

Closing Reflection

Baba Farid taught that the soul is not meant to be a wall, but a flow. Faith does not protect you from fire — it helps you pass through it unbroken.

Join us on a transformative journey as we delve into the profound wisdom of Sultan Bahoo's Abyat e Bahoo, guided by the insightful explanations of Sultan ul Ashiqeen. For the first time in life, viewers will truly grasped the hidden meanings behind these mystical Sufi poems. Prepare to be captivated by the profound spiritual teachings, as we explore the depths of these verses and uncover the essence of divine love, wisdom, and enlightenment. �

ارشادِ باری تعالیٰ ہے:

 اپنے ربّ کے راستے کی طرف حکمت اور مواعظِ حسنہ سے دعوت دواور ان سے احسن طریقے سے بحث کرو۔ (سورۃ النحل۔ 125)