Lets begin the Word with bismillah, Allah’s name what a beautiful shelter
His blessings is not limited with any measure or calculation, most loving, forgiving God he is.
There was a man. Born in Argentina, passing through Judaism, Christianity, and Budism, fall in love with his Master. In 1997 got the name Mahmud, left everything behind.
When he could not find enough ropes in Argentina, connecting to the islam judgement and morality, reaching one Allah who is Ehad and Samed, he found the solution coming to Istanbul. He hold the hand and skirt of Hz. Muhibbi, became a devoted servant of Hz. Pir, and that was when kibrit-i ahmer ignited him.
This sacred fire that turns copper bodies into gold, forced him to come to Istanbul every year, every opportunity. This man used to walk in the streets, market places, mosques, cafes just to breath the same air, as Mecnun used to walk in the streets of Leyla.
Without a benefit, just to stay in Istanbul 14 hours arrival and 14 hours departure more, he used to fly with Turkish Airlines from Buenos Aires. Not because he actually need anything, he used to shop from the market place for plentyness, and greet people he did not know as a proof of his love.
He was sitting in the tekke where he has been showed for hours, listening the conversations of a foreign language. Some times he had surprised that he actually was understanding. But most surprising thing was, even he was coming to tekke once a year at least 3 days of gathering, with large body of Mahmud, no one was noticing him.
Even himself was saying jungle, Mahmud was feeling like in the desert when he had been back. He was accused with being crazy, but he did not care. His friends, family cut the affair. When he became brighter with the Nur of the tevhid, and sparkle in his heart blazed, Mahmud met with new people, bring them also to Istanbul together.
How can we understand the situation of a society with 50 muslims in Cuma prayer, and may be 500 muslims in feasts? Eventually the hyenas of the desert repeled Mahmud. Some of the became enemy, some of them just ignored him. He understood the lesson, being consentful and saying “eyvallah” with these incidents.
Large bodies always have large hearts. When Mahmud hugs, he was hugging wih his large heart. He used to say in every message, letter “big hug” in the end. When he has been asked, he was saying “ I learned to hug big, after learning to say eyvallah”.
Who can feel, what Mahmud felt and lived deep down in his heart? Who can know that? For this reason, he began to write books of an imaginary character Siraj baba, telling some times his expreriences, some times his guides and sheiks stories. He had defined these books as a service and dedicated himself writing the stories when taking himself, his nefs out of every thing. When he was asked, he was saying :"I am just trying to be nothing".
On the 19. Year, Mahmud had come to Istanbul again, to ascend his love, kiss his sheiks hand, and touching his face to the door step of his Pir. He had landed with the same flight, settled in the same hotel room. Day after, he got out from the hotel, began his duty “walking in the Leyla streets.” In Sehremini, tramway road, Mahmud stopped.
On 20 Cemaziye’l Evvel 1437, the same month February of many other our beloveds had passed, on 29 th the order arrived Mahmud “ Ircıi, come back”. Big lover, did not missed the opportunity and gave his relic obeying the order. First Aliyye was crying near by, then doctor, then nurse, then those who helped him coming to hospital, then hotel manager, than ihwan brothers and sisters. Is not it a bounty of Allah, that his family was last crying ones because of the time difference.
Dervishes gave the news to his sheikh, counciled him, asking his pray and permission. They had shared the duties as well as their grieves. First they took him to clean up for a last wudu’, read usul near by, garnish him with prays. Then brought him to the door of his Pir, lay down to door step. Put on his “dallı arakiye” on his head, left him alone with his pir in seclusion.
Sheikh hazret let all ihwan know about the situation of Mahmud, after the meshk in his sohbet. All ihwan became witness to the love, muhabbet of Mahmud by this way.
When Pir door opened and Mahmud taken from his seclusion, it was smelling so beautiful. Hafız Mustafa Efendi read his Sala, what a Sala, even the cats were crying. Peace and decency covered Karagumruk, where crowd and rush never lack.
They prayed the Sala of Mahmud, is not it the bounty of Allah, in the same mosque where his Pirs sala was prayed. Garnish him with hatims, prays, again and again. Probably they could not find some other Cargo company, so his funureal had sent back to his home with Turkish airlines again.
The day after Mahmud’s funureal arrived his home, his gifts for dervishes had arrived tekke. It was understood that he brought many gifts to his ihvan brothers, but delivering them could be done on gathering night Thursday.
After his sala pray, Zakirbası of Asitane Ahmet efendi summerized the feelings of dervishes “ we became speechless and wordless” adding “ now we are not able to talk about this, but someone should write this happening.” To accomplish his older brother words, became a duty for another poor servant.
We will not be able to know Mahmud’s own story before his books of Siraj baba translated. If you ask me, he would tell any thing that a tale paladin would tell. His excellency was a “love paladin” that we used to read in the books and listen in the sohbets, we found him late, lost him early.
Mahmud, means, too much praised, magnified. This pen, can not praise such a man, what ever it writes. Our suppliance for the big lover of Argentina is, may people who read this story say amin to our dua with reading Fatiha; in the presence of his Rab, holding his Pirs skirt, may Hz. Resulullah (sav) ,his namesaker, praise and magnifies him.
The poor servant’s suppliance for the ones who read this story, may all of us reconsider who is pir, who is sheikh, who is dervish, how we can love. And all of us may have a share from Mahmuds love muhabbet and prosperity.
“Şeb-i Arus”, means " Wedding Night " , the day of his death.