One night after their expulsion from Shíráz, the Báb, who was visiting the home of Hájí Mírzá Siyyid ‘Alí, where He had summoned to meet Him Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alíy-i-Nahrí, Mírzá Hádí, and Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím-i-Qazvíní, turned suddenly to the last-named and said: “‘Abdu’l-Karím, are you seeking the Manifestation?” These words, uttered with calm and extreme gentleness, had a startling effect upon him. He paled at this sudden interrogation and burst into tears. He threw himself at the feet of the Báb in a state of profound agitation. The Báb took him lovingly in His arms, kissed his forehead, and invited him to be seated by His side. In a tone of tender affection, He succeeded in appeasing the tumult of his heart.
As soon as they had regained their home, Mírzá Muhammad-‘Alí and his brother enquired of Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím the reason for the violent perturbation which had suddenly seized him. “Hear me,” he answered; “I will relate to you the tale of a strange experience, a tale which I have shared with no one until now. When I attained the age of maturity, I felt, while I lived in Qazvín, a profound yearning to unravel the mystery of God and to apprehend the nature of His saints and prophets. Nothing short of the acquisition of learning, I realised, could enable me to achieve my goal. I succeeded in obtaining the consent of my father and uncles to the abandonment of my business, and plunged immediately into study and research. I occupied a room in one of the madrisihs of Qazvín, and concentrated my efforts on the acquisition of every available branch of human learning. I often discussed the knowledge which I acquired with my fellow-disciples, and sought by this means to enrich my experience. At night, I would retire to my home, and, in the seclusion of my library, would devote many an hour to undisturbed study. I was so immersed in my labours that I grew indifferent to both sleep and hunger. Within two years I had resolved to master the intricacies of Muslim jurisprudence and theology. I was a faithful attendant at the lectures given by Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím-i-Iravání, who, in those days, ranked as the most outstanding divine of Qazvín. I greatly admired his vast erudition, his piety and virtue. Every night during the period that I was his disciple, I devoted my time to the writing of a treatise which I submitted to him and which he revised with care and interest. He seemed to be greatly pleased with my progress, and often extolled my high attainments. One day, in the presence of his assembled disciples, he declared: ‘The learned and sagacious Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím has qualified himself to expound authoritatively the sacred Scriptures of Islám. He no longer needs to attend either my classes or those of my equals. I shall, please God, celebrate his elevation to the rank of a mujtahid on the morning of the coming Friday, and will deliver his certificate to him after the congregational prayer.’
“No sooner had Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím spoken these words and departed than his disciples came forward and heartily congratulated me on my accomplishments. I returned, greatly elated, to my home. Upon my arrival I discovered that both my father and my elder uncle, Ḥájí Husayn-‘Alí, both of whom were greatly esteemed throughout Qazvín, were preparing a feast in my honour, with which they intended to celebrate the completion of my studies. I requested them to postpone the invitation they had extended to the notables of Qazvín until further notice from me. They gladly consented, believing that in my eagerness for such a festival I would not unduly postpone it. That night I repaired to my library and, in the privacy of my cell, pondered the following thoughts in my heart: Had you not fondly imagined, I said to myself, that only the sanctified in spirit could ever hope to attain the station of an authoritative expounder of the sacred Scriptures of Islám? Was it not your belief that whoso attained this station would be immune from error? Are you not already accounted among those who enjoy that rank? Has not Qazvín’s most distinguished divine recognised and declared you to be such? Be fair. Do you in your own heart regard yourself as having attained that state of purity and sublime detachment which you, in days past, considered the requisites for one who aspires to reach that exalted position? Think you yourself to be free from every taint of selfish desire? As I sat musing, a feeling of my own unworthiness gradually overpowered me. I recognised myself as still a victim of cares and perplexities, of temptations and doubts. I was oppressed by such thoughts as to how I should conduct my classes, how to lead my congregation in prayer, how to enforce the laws and precepts of the Faith. I felt continually anxious as to how I should discharge my duties, how to ensure the superiority of my achievements over those who had preceded me. I was overcome with such a sense of humiliation that I felt impelled to seek forgiveness from God. Your aim in acquiring all this learning, I thought to myself, has been to unravel the mystery of God and to attain the state of certitude. Be fair. Are you sure of your own interpretation of the Qur’án? Are you certain that the laws which you promulgate reflect the will of God? The consciousness of error suddenly dawned upon me. I realised for the first time how the rust of learning had corroded my soul and had obscured my vision. I lamented my past, and deplored the futility of my endeavours. I knew that the people of my own rank were subject to the same afflictions. As soon as they had acquired this so-called learning, they would claim to be the exponents of the law of Islám and would arrogate to themselves the exclusive privilege of pronouncing upon its doctrine.
“I remained absorbed in my thoughts until dawn. That night I neither ate nor slept. At times I would commune with God: ‘Thou seest me, O my Lord, and Thou beholdest my plight. Thou knowest that I cherish no other desire except Thy holy will and pleasure. I am lost in bewilderment at the thought of the multitude of sects into which Thy holy Faith hath fallen. I am deeply perplexed when I behold the schisms that have torn the religions of the past. Wilt Thou guide me in my perplexities, and relieve me of my doubts? Whither am I to turn for consolation and guidance?’ I wept so bitterly that night that I seemed to have lost consciousness. There suddenly came to me the vision of a great gathering of people, the expression of whose shining faces greatly impressed me. A noble figure, attired in the garb of a siyyid, occupied a seat on the pulpit facing the congregation. He was expounding the meaning of this sacred verse of the Qur’án: ‘Whoso maketh efforts for Us, in Our ways will We guide them.’ I was fascinated by his face. I arose, advanced towards him, and was on the point of throwing myself at his feet when that vision suddenly vanished. My heart was flooded with light. My joy was indescribable.
“I immediately decided to consult Hájí Alláh-Vardí, father of Muhammad-Javád-i-Farhádí, a man known throughout Qazvín for his deep spiritual insight. When I related to him my vision, he smiled and with extraordinary precision described to me the distinguishing features of the siyyid who had appeared to me. ‘That noble figure,’ he added, ‘was none other than Hájí Siyyid Kázim-i-Rashtí, who is now in Karbilá and who may be seen expounding every day to his disciples the sacred teachings of Islám. Those who listen to his discourse are refreshed and edified by his utterance. I can never describe the impression which his words exert upon his hearers.’ I joyously arose and, expressing to him my feelings of profound appreciation, retired to my home and started forthwith on my journey to Karbilá. My old fellow-disciples came and entreated me either to call in person on the learned Mullá ‘Abdu’l-Karím, who had expressed a desire to meet me, or to allow him to come to my house. ‘I feel the impulse,’ I replied, ‘to visit the shrine of the Imám Ḥusayn at Karbilá. I have vowed to start immediately on that pilgrimage. I cannot postpone my departure. I will, if possible, visit him for a few moments when I start to leave the city. If I cannot, I would beg him to excuse me and to pray in my behalf that I may be guided on the straight path.’
“I confidentially acquainted my relatives with the nature of my vision and its interpretation. I informed them of my projected visit to Karbilá. My words to them that very day instilled the love of Siyyid Kázim in their hearts. They felt greatly drawn to Hájí Alláh-Vardí, freely associated with him, and became his fervent admirers.
“My brother, ‘Abdu’l-Hamíd [who later quaffed the cup of martyrdom in Tihrán], accompanied me on my journey to Karbilá. There I met Siyyid Kázim and was amazed to hear him discourse to his assembled disciples under exactly the same circumstances as he had appeared to me in my vision. I was astounded when I discovered, upon my arrival, that he was expounding the meaning of the same verse which he, when he appeared to me, was explaining to his disciples. As I sat and listened to him, I was greatly impressed by the force of his argument and the profundity of his thoughts. He graciously received me and showed me the utmost kindness. My brother and I both felt an inner joy we had never before experienced. At the hour of dawn we would hasten to his home, and would accompany him on his visit to the shrine of the Imám Husayn.
“I spent the entire winter in close companionship with him. During the whole of that period, I faithfully attended his classes. Every time I listened to his speech, I heard him describe a particular aspect of the manifestation of the promised Qá’im. This theme constituted the sole subject of his discourses. Whichever verse or tradition he happened to be expounding, he would invariably conclude his commentary on it with a particular reference to the advent of the promised Revelation. ‘The promised One,’ he would openly and repeatedly declare, lives in the midst of this people. The appointed time for His appearance is fast approaching. Prepare the way for Him, and purify yourselves so that you may recognise His beauty. Not until I depart from this world will the day-star of His countenance be revealed. It behoves you after my departure to arise and seek Him. You should not rest for one moment until you find Him.’
“After the celebration of Naw-Rúz, Siyyid Kázim bade me
depart from Karbilá. ‘Rest assured, O ‘Abdu’l-Karím,’ he told me as he bade me
farewell, ‘you are of those who, in the Day of His Revelation, will arise for
the triumph of His Cause. You will, I hope, remember me on that blessed Day.’ I
besought him to allow me to remain in Karbilá, pleading that my return to
Qazvín would arouse the enmity of the mullás of that city. ‘Let your trust be
wholly in God,’ was his reply. ‘Ignore entirely their machinations. Engage in
trade, and rest assured that their protestations will never succeed in harming
you.’ I followed his advice, and together with my brother set out for Qazvín.
“Immediately upon my arrival, I undertook to carry out the counsel of Siyyid Kázim. With the instructions he had given me, I was able to silence every malicious opposer. I devoted my days to the transaction of my business; at night I would regain my home and, in the quiet of my chamber, would consecrate my time to meditation and prayer. With tearful eyes I would commune with God and would beseech Him, saying: ‘Thou hast, by the mouth of Thine inspired servant, promised that I shall attain unto Thy Day, and shall behold Thy Revelation. Thou hast, through him, assured me that I shall be among those who will arise for the triumph of Thy Cause. How long wilt Thou withhold from me Thy promise? When will the hand of Thy loving-kindness unlock to me the door of Thy grace, and confer upon me Thy everlasting bounty?’ Every night I would renew this prayer and would continue in my supplications until the break of day.
“One night, on the eve of the day of Árafih, in the year 1255 A.H., I was so wrapt in prayer that I seemed to have fallen into a trance. There appeared before me a bird, white as the snow, which hovered above my head and alighted upon the twig of a tree beside me. In accents of indescribable sweetness, that bird voiced these words: ‘Are you seeking the Manifestation, O ‘Abdu’l-Karím? Lo, the year ’60.’ Immediately after, the bird flew away and vanished. The mystery of those words greatly agitated me. The memory of the beauty of that vision lingered long in my mind. I seemed to have tasted all the delights of Paradise. My joy was irrepressible.
“The mystic message of that bird had penetrated my soul and was continually on my lips. I revolved it constantly in my mind. I shared it with no one, fearing lest its sweetness forsake me. A few years later, the Call from Shíráz reached my ears. The day I heard it, I hastened to that city. On my way I met, in Tihrán, Mullá Muhammad-i-Mu’allim, who acquainted me with the nature of this Call, and informed me that those who had acknowledged it had gathered in Karbilá and were awaiting the return of their Leader from Hijáz. I immediately departed for that city. From Hamadán, Mullá Javád-i-Baraghání, to my great distress, accompanied me to Karbilá, where I was privileged to meet you as well as the rest of the believers. I continued to treasure within my heart the strange message conveyed to me by that bird. When I subsequently attained the presence of the Báb and heard from His lips those same words, spoken in the same tone and language as I had heard them, I realised their significance. I was so overwhelmed by their power and glory that I instinctively fell at His feet and magnified His name.”
(Chapter 8, ‘The
Dawn-Breakers’)
