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Dr. Abd. Germanusfile:///C|/Users/NSA/Desktop/Australian%20Revert%20Stories/abd_karim_germanus.htm[7/21/2009 8:30:44 PM]
 Dr. Abd. Germanus 
Dr. Abdul Karim Germanus (Hungary)Professor of Oriental StudiesAbout the Author:Dr. Abdul Karim Germanus is a well known Orientalist of Hungary and is ascholar of world repute. He visited India between the wars and for sometimewas also associated with Tagore's University Shanti Naketen. Later on he cameto Jamia Millie Delhi. It was here that he embraced Islam. Dr. Germanus is alinguist and an authority on Turkish language and literature and it was throughoriental studies that he came to Islam. At present Dr. Abdul Karim Germanus isworking as Professor and Head of the Department of Oriental and IslamicStudies at the Budapest University, Hungary.
It was on a rainy afternoon in my adolescence that I was perusing an old illustratedreview. Current events mingled with fiction, and descriptions of far-off countries, varied inits pages. I turned the leaves indifferently for a while when suddenly a wood-cut arrestedmy eyes. The picture represented flat-roofed houses from among which here and thereround cupolas rose gently into the dark sky enlivened by the crescent. The shadow of men squatting on the roof clad in fantastic robes stretched out in mysterious lines. Thepicture caught my imagination. It was so different from the usual European landscapes: itwas an Oriental scene, somewhere in the Arabian East, where a story-teller told hisgaudy tales to a burnoused audience. It was so realistic that I fancied I could hear hismelodious voice as he entertained us, his Arab listeners on the roof and me, a sixteen-year-old student sitting in a soft arm-chair in Hungary. I felt an irresistible yearning toknow that light which fought with the darkness in the picture. I began to learn Turkish. Itsoon dawned upon me that the literary Turkish language contains only a small amount of Turkish words. The poetry is enriched by Persian, the prose by Arabic elements. I soughtto master all the three, in order to enter that spiritual world which spread such a brilliantlight on humanity.During a summer vacation I was lucky to travel to Bosnia, the nearest Oriental countryadjacent to ours. As soon as I settled in a hotel I dashed forth to see living Muslims,whose Turkish language had only beckoned to me through its intricate Arabic script fromthe pages of grammar books. It was night, and in the dimly-lit streets I soon discovereda humble cafe in which on low straw stools a couple of Bosnians enjoyed their
kayf 
. Theywore the traditional bulging trousers kept straight at the waist by a broad belt bristling
 
Dr. Abd. Germanusfile:///C|/Users/NSA/Desktop/Australian%20Revert%20Stories/abd_karim_germanus.htm[7/21/2009 8:30:44 PM]
with daggers. Their headgear and the unfamiliar costume lent them an air of truculence.It was with a throbbing heart that I entered the
kahwekhame
and timidly sat down in adistant corner. The, Bosnians looked with curious eyes upon me and I suddenlyremembered all the bloodcurdling stories read in fanatical books about Muslim intolerance.I noticed that they were whispering among themselves and their topic was myunexpected presence. My childish imagination flared up in horror; they surely intended todraw their daggers on the intruding `infidel'. I wished I could safely get out of thisthreatening environment, but I dared not budge.In a few seconds the waiter brought me a cup of fragrant coffee and pointed to thefrightening group of men. I turned a fearful face towards them when one made a gentle
salaam
towards me accompanied with a friendly smile. I hesitatingly forced a smile on mytrembling lips. The imagined `foes' slowly rose and approached my little table. What now?---- my throbbing heart inquired --- will they oust me? A second
salaam
followed andthey sat around me. One of them offered me a cigarette and at its flickering light Inoticed that their martial attire hid a hospitable soul. I gathered strength and addressedthem in my primitive Turkish. Is acted like a magic wand. Their faces lit up in friendlinessakin to affection --- instead of hostility they invited me to their homes; instead of thefalsely anticipated daggers they showered benevolence upon me. This was my firstpersonal meeting with Muslims.Years had come and passed in a rich variety of events, travels and study. Each openednew vistas before my curious eyes. I crossed all the countries of Europe, studied at theUniversity of Constantinople, admired the historic beauties of Asia Minor and Syria. I hadlearnt Turkish, Persian and Arabic, and gained the chair of Islamic studies at theUniversity of Budapest. All the dry and tangible knowledge that was hoarded up throughtcenturies, all the thousands pages of learned books I had read with eager eyes --- butmy soul remained thirsty. I found Ariadne's thread in the books of learning, but I yearnedfor the evergreen garden of religious experience.My brain was satiated but my soul remained thirsty. I had to divest myself of much of that learning I had gathered, in order to regain it through inner experience, ennobled inthe fire of suffering, as the crude iron which the pain of sudden cold tempers into elasticsteel.One night Prophet Muhammad appeared before me. His long beard was reddened withhenna, his robes were simple but very exquisite, and an agreeable scent emanated fromthem. His eyes glittered with a noble fire and he addressed me with a manly voice, "Whydo you worry ? The straight path is before you, safely spread out like the face of theearth; walk on it with trusty treads, with the strength of Faith."O Messenger of God", I exclaimed in my feverish dream in Arabic, "it is easy for you,who are beyond, who have conquered all foes when heavenly admonition has started youon your path and your efforts have been crowned with glory. But I have yet to suffer, andwho knows when I shall find rest ?"He looked sternly at me and then sank into thought, but after a while he again spoke. HisArabic was so clear that every word rang like silver bells. This prophetic tongue whichincorporated God's commands now weighed upon my breast with a crushing load; `
A lamnaj'all'l-Arda mihadan
--- Have We not set the earth as a couch, and the mountains asstakes, and created you in pairs, and made your sleep for rest ... !
 
Dr. Abd. Germanusfile:///C|/Users/NSA/Desktop/Australian%20Revert%20Stories/abd_karim_germanus.htm[7/21/2009 8:30:44 PM]
"I cannot sleep." I groaned with pain. "I cannot solve the mysteries which are covered byimpenetrable veils. Help me, Muhammad, O Prophet of God! help me!"A fierce interrupted cry broke forth from my throat. I tossed chokingly under the burdenof the nightmare --- I feared the wrath of the Prophet. Then I felt as if I had dropped intothe deep --- and suddenly I awoke. The blood knocked in my temples, my body wasbathed in sweat, my every limb ached. A deadly silence enveloped me, and I felt very sadand lonely.The next Friday witnessed a curious scene in the huge Juma' Masjid of Delhi. A fair-hairedpale-faced stranger elbowed his way, accompanied by some elders, through the throngingcrowd of believers. I wore an Indian dress, on my head a small Rampuri cap, I put on mybreast the Turkish orders, presented to me by previous sultans. The believers gazed atme in astonishment and surprise. Our small party paced straight on to the pulpit, whichhad been surrounded by the learned, respectable elders, who received me kindly with aloud
salaam
. I sat down near the
mimbar
, (pulpit) and let my eyes gaze on thebeautifully ornamented front of the mosque. In its middle arcade wild bees had built theirnests and swarmed undisturbed around it.Suddenly, the
adhan
(call to prayers) was sounded and the
mukabbirs
, standing ondifferent spots of the courtyard, forwarded the cry to the farthest nook of the mosque.Some four thousand men rose like soldiers at this heavenly command, rallied in closerows and said the prayer in deep devotion - I one among them. It was an exaltingmoment. After the
Khutba
(sermon) had been preached, `Abdul Hayy took me by myhand and conducted me to the
mimbar
, I had to walk warily so as not to step onsomeone squatting on the ground. The great event had arrived. I stood at the steps of the
mimbar
. The huge mass of men began to stir. Thousands of turbaned heads turnedinto a flowery meadow, curiously murmuring towards me. Grey-bearded
`ulama
(Savants) encircled me and stroked me with their encouraging looks. They inspired anunusual steadfastness into me, and without any fever or fear I slowly ascended to theseventh step of the
mimbar
. From above I surveyed the interminable crowd, which wavedbelow me like a living sea. Those who stood after stretched their necks towards me, andthis seemed to set the whole courtyard in motion.
`Ma'sha Allah`
exclaimed somenearby, and warm, affectionate looks radiated from their eyes'."
Ayyuh al-Saadaat al-Kiram
", I started in Arabic --- `I came from a distant land toacquire knowledge which I could not gain at home. I came to you for inspiration and youresponded to the call'. I then proceeded and spoke of the task Islam had played in theworld's history, of the miracle God has wrought with His Prophet. I explained on thedecline of present-day Muslims and of the means whereby they could gain ascendancyanew. It is a Muslim saying that all depends on God's will, but the Holy Qur'an says that`God betters not the condition of people unless they improve themselves'. I built myspeech on this Qur'anic sentence and wound up with the praise of pious life, and the fightagainst wickedness.Then I sat down. I was aroused from the magnetic trance of my speech by a loud `
AllahuAkbar'
, shouted from every nook and corner of the place. The thrill was overwhelming,and I hardly remember anything but that Aslam called me from the
mimbar
, took me bythe arm and dragged me out of the mosque."Why this hurry ?" I asked.
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