I heard several students cough tautly and saw Irshad draw in a sharp breath. The tension between the two men was so thick that the air in the classroom could be cut with a knife.
“I don’t know what you are doing here, but I have better things to do than talk to you,” Sheikh Yassin reprimanded. “Now, why don’t you take your leave, so that we can get on with our studies?”
“You say you won’t talk to me, but you have been talking about me,” Shams remarked. “You have constantly spoken ill of me and Rumi, and of all the mystics along the Sufi path.”
Sheikh Yassin sniffed through his big, bony nose and narrowed his mouth to a pout, as if he had something sour on his tongue. “As I said, I have nothing to talk with you about. I already know what I need to know. I have my opinions.”
Shams now turned to us with a swift, sardonic glance. “A man with many opinions but no questions! There’s something so wrong with that.”
“Really?” Sheikh Yassin looked amused and animated. “Then why don’t we ask the students which of the two they’d rather be: the wise man who knows the answers or the perplexed man who has nothing but questions?”
All of my friends sided with Sheikh Yassin, but I sensed that many did so less out of sincere agreement than to get favors from the teacher. I chose to remain silent.
“One who thinks he has all the answers is the most ignorant,” Shams said with a dismissive shrug, and turned to our teacher. “But since you are so good with answers, may I ask you a question?”
That was when I started to worry about where this conversation was heading. But there was nothing I could do to prevent the escalating tension.
“Since you claim I am the devil’s servant, could you kindly tell us what exactly your notion of Sheitan is?” asked Shams.
“Certainly,” Sheikh Yassin said, never missing an opportunity to preach. “Our religion, which is the last and the best of Abrahamic religions, tells us it was Sheitan who caused Adam and Eve to be expelled from heaven. As the children of fallen parents, we all need to be alert, because Sheitan comes in many forms. Sometimes he comes in the form of a gambler who invites us to gamble, sometimes a beautiful young woman who tries to seduce us.… Sheitan can come in the least expected forms, like that of a wandering dervish.”
As if expecting this remark, Shams smiled knowingly. “I see what you mean. It must be a huge relief, and an easy way out, to think the devil is always outside of us.”
“What do you mean?” Sheikh Yassin asked.
“Well, if Sheitan is as wicked and indomitable as you are saying he is, then we human beings have no reason to blame ourselves for our wrongdoings. Whatever good happens we’ll attribute to God, and all the bad things in life we’ll simply attribute to Sheitan. In either case we’ll be exempt from all criticism and self-examination. How easy that is!”
Still talking, Shams started to pace the room, his voice rising with each word. “But let’s for one moment imagine there is no Sheitan. No demons waiting to burn us in scorching cauldrons. All these bloodcurdling images were designed to show us something, but then they became clichés and lost their original message.”
“And what might that message be?” Sheikh Yassin asked wearily, crossing his arms on his chest.
“Ah, so you do have questions after all,” Shams said. “The message is that the torment a person can inflict upon himself is endless. Hell is inside us, and so is heaven. The Qur’an says human beings are the most dignified. We are higher than the highest, but also lower than the lowest. If we could grasp the full meaning of this, we would stop looking for Sheitan outside and instead focus on ourselves. What we need is sincere self-examination. Not being on the watch for the faults of others.”
“You go and examine yourself, and inshallah someday you will redeem yourself,” Sheikh Yassin answered, “but a proper scholar has to keep an eye on his community.”
“Then allow me to tell you a story,” Shams said, with such graciousness that we couldn’t be sure whether he was sincere or mocking.
And here is what he told us:
Four merchants were praying in a mosque when they saw the muezzin enter. The first merchant stopped his prayer and asked, “Muezzin! Has the prayer been called? Or do we still have time?”
The second merchant stopped praying and turned to his friend. “Hey, you spoke while you were praying. Your prayer is now void. You need to start anew!”
Upon hearing this, the third merchant interjected, “Why do you blame him, you idiot? You should have minded your own prayer. Now yours is void, too.”