I'm starting a new AAR.
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One Hundred Years and a Year:
Tales of Aydin
Many of you have heard of the famous Thousand Nights and a Night, where the beautiful Sheherezade spun her tantalizing tales hour after hour and night after night to capture and hold the dangerous curiosity of Shahryar. She saved her life, and called Shahryar back from the dark place his anger and passion had taken him when betrayed by his Queen.
The tales in One Hundred Years and a Year are similar, but not the same. The Thousand Nights and a Night took place in the fabulous Persian court; these take take place in, around and about the small beydom of Aydin, far from the wealth and sophistication of Persia (although Persia is perhaps be seen now and again.) Sheherezade was literally telling her tales to save her life; no such life-and-death outcome hangs in the balance in the stories of One Hundred Years and a Year. These tales are a collection of stories told me by my mother; they have been passed down from unknown villagers and storytellers through the history of Aydin, as seen from Anatolia and indeed the entire world of the Mediterranean - both Islamic and Christian. They tell the story of the people of Aydin as well as the fate of the nation - while no lives are saved in the telling, lives are captured, preserved and savored.
Nonetheless, these two sets of tales do share a few things in common. Both contain stories that bring together kings and peasants, soldiers and merchants, fools and wise men, djinns and imams, and the entire kaleidoscope of humanity as it has existed since time immemorial. The characters (in all senses of the word) in both sets of tales lived throughout the vast Muslim and Christian worlds that were the world on either side of the small beydom of Aydin. Both sets of tales are full of wonder, with the natural and the supernatural mingling to create a world that it at once remarkably similar to our own but also magical and unique. And both are filled with people who hopefully capture our attention - at least it is my hope that readers of this collection will find a character or two to rival the fame of Sinbad, Harun al-Rashid and Sheherezade herself.
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The Tale of the Imam Who Loved Beauty
There was once an imam who lived in the city the Greeks called Smyrna. This city was the capital of the small beydom of Aydin, on the coast of Anatolia. The imam’s name was Muhammad, named by his devout and holy mother after the Holy Prophet and Messenger of Allah himself, may Allah bless his name forever.
As a young child Muhammad was fascinated by color, by shapes, by the beauty of nature and the intricacies that Allah had placed all over the world of Anatolia (which was the only world young Muhammad knew.)
As Muhammad grew up, he realized that he wanted to serve Allah and so he began many years of study in the madrassa on his little town. After many years of diligent study he found himself as the iman of a little mosque next to the port of Smyrna. He was happy in this calm place - rising early, walking up the winding stairs of the little mosque’s only minaret to call the faithful to prayer in the morning and throughout the day, meeting the travelers who came to the mosque from their ships with their needs and hopes. He listened to their tales of the cities and towns that crowded the shores of the Middle Sea, and shared with them the peace of Allah. In short, he was a happy man.
One day he came into the mosque and saw a stranger sitting in the corner in deep contemplation. The man stayed for a short while and left without noticing Muhammad. In the days that followed, the stranger came now and then to the mosque, always sitting quietly, thinking and sometimes staring off into space. Over the days and weeks that passed, they greeted each other silently as Muhammad went about his duties and the stranger sat in silence, thinking in the quiet of the little mosque.
One day the stranger came up to Muhammad. “Holy imam, Allah’s blessings be on you. I am Murat, a servant of Isa Bey, lord of Aydin.” He and Muhammad talked about many things over the succeeding days.
One day Murat said to Muhammad, “My master is a good and just man. But he is old, and fears for the safety of this little kingdom. Once, of course, there were many small kingdoms like this in Anatolia, but slowly they are being eaten by the greedy house of Osman. Isa Bey worries that when his days are done the Osmanli Turks will devour this domain of his. I have promised to help discover a solution to this problem, and so I come every day to think, to ask Allah to reveal the path to follow. Every day I come, and every day I leave without an answer. Only Allah can show the way, but where is He?”
Muhammad, feeling a little abashed, had to admit that he did not have an answer. But promised Murat that he would think about this problem, and ask Allah to show the way.
At the mosque Muhammad kept everything in proper shape and repair. He could have hired a caretaker - but he enjoyed making sure that everything was just so. Every day he checked the carpets to make sure they were not unraveling, torn or dirty; he checked the wooden grills in the windows to make sure they were not broken or cracking; he checked the walls to make sure the whitewash and paneling was in good repair; and of course he checked the doors to make sure they could be closed and locked in the night. One morning as he was going about his rounds he noticed that a small piece of paneling had fallen off the wall. As he bent down to pick it up, he noticed that a beautiful painting had been revealed - it was small but perfectly rendered. It showed boats with sails, merchants unloading crates of treasures and spices, and a fortified city on an island. And most importantly it was full of color and life, and Muhammad fell in love with this small painting, hidden in the very midst of his mosque.
Of course, to have a picture in the mosque was not really allowed - when the city had been conquered from the Byzantines ages ago all the churches had been turned into mosques and their icons, mosaics and paintings destroyed or painted over. Muhammad had found a small relic of that past. And while he respected the teachings of his tutors at the madrassa and of course followed the tenets of Islam, he also loved the beauty of this little painting. He could not believe that Allah would be opposed to something that reflected the perfection of His creation so nicely (but not perfectly, of course, since only Allah could create perfect things). So he carefully placed the panelling back over the mosaic, and went on his way. But now and then in the early morning or the late evening he would remove the small piece of wood and look at the colors and movement captured in the painting, and imagine the story and place this small picture captured.
A few days later Murat came, as usual, to the little mosque to sit, pray and ask Allah to show the way for safety for the little kingdom of Isa Bey. Muhammad saw him, and remembered his promise. So Muhammad also sat and prayed to Allah for an answer for Isa Bey. The two men sat in silence, the waves of the sea slapping against the walls and stairs of the port, the calls of the seagulls echoing overhead, and the warmth of the day offset by the cool interior. The sun moved across the walls and carpets of the mosque as the day advanced. Finally Murat rose to return to the small palace of Isa Bey. Muhammad roused himself to bid his friend goodbye. As he rose, his eyes followed a shaft of sunlight to a panel on the wall, and the answer of Allah blossomed inside his mind.
Excitedly he rushed to Murat and told him that Allah had sent the answer! He pulled his friend over to the panel, and removing it, showed Murat the small painting of the port, the cargo, the fortified city walls. Murat looked at him questioningly, and Muhammad explained. “I found this small painting a few days ago and have been thinking about it since then. This was a Byzantine church, wasn't it, before it became a place holy to Allah? The Byzantines had many islands in their great past, but this one, I think, is a great island with a great city in its midst. I have been thinking and reading, and I believe this is the island of Cyprus.
I didn't think much about it, but just now, the sun fell on the panel and many thoughts fell into place! So I rushed over to you! Cyprus is the last of the Crusader kingdoms, a thorn in the side of Islam since the days of the great Salah ad-Din and the brave Christian, King Richard. At first I was intrigued by the colors and the patterns of its design; now I know that it was the hand of Allah that revealed this to me. Tell Isa Bey that Imam Muhammad sends him greetings and a message from Allah.
Murat, finally understanding, thanked Muhammad, excitedly ran back to the palace of Isa Bey, and conveyed the message from Imam Muhammad to Isa Bey.
Isa Bey, believing the words of Muhammad, immediately set about preparing for war. New troops were raised and trained. Before long, the final preparations were finished, men and supplies loaded onto warships, and the message of war sent to Cyprus.
As Muhammad watched all the excitement in the port, Isa Bey came to the little mosque. Muhammad fell at the feet of his lord. “Imam Muhammad, Allah’s blessings on you. You have lifted my heart and relieved my worries by discerning and revealing the message of Allah to me. The message of war has been sent to Cyprus and I will be fast behind that message with my men of war. You have reminded me that we are Ghazi, the Warriors of Allah, and that we have a holy cause to fulfill. I will return here when we have triumphed over the Crusaders of Cyprus and we will hold a holy feast day.”
Isa Bey and his men left for Cyprus that day.
Muhammad listened to the news that come back to the port over the many days and months that followed. Sometimes it seemed as if the war against the Crusaders of Cyprus would never end. But finally it did, and the city fell and the Warriors of Allah entered and possessed the city for Allah.
The victorious armies of Aydin returned to Smyrna, Isa Bey with them. Isa Bey brought a portion of the treasures of Cyprus with him and gave it to Muhammad to help with the upkeep of the mosque and the care of the poor. The neighboring nations seemed to take a bit more notice of Aydin after this remarkable victory - Aydin proved that it was a true Ghazi nation, full of the Warriors of God, and dedicated to Allah and Islam.
And in honor of the role Imam Muhammad played, Isa Bey renamed the little mosque as the Conqueror’s Mosque. This is why today it is called the Isa Bey al-Fatıh Mosque.
*******
One Hundred Years and a Year:
Tales of Aydin
Many of you have heard of the famous Thousand Nights and a Night, where the beautiful Sheherezade spun her tantalizing tales hour after hour and night after night to capture and hold the dangerous curiosity of Shahryar. She saved her life, and called Shahryar back from the dark place his anger and passion had taken him when betrayed by his Queen.
The tales in One Hundred Years and a Year are similar, but not the same. The Thousand Nights and a Night took place in the fabulous Persian court; these take take place in, around and about the small beydom of Aydin, far from the wealth and sophistication of Persia (although Persia is perhaps be seen now and again.) Sheherezade was literally telling her tales to save her life; no such life-and-death outcome hangs in the balance in the stories of One Hundred Years and a Year. These tales are a collection of stories told me by my mother; they have been passed down from unknown villagers and storytellers through the history of Aydin, as seen from Anatolia and indeed the entire world of the Mediterranean - both Islamic and Christian. They tell the story of the people of Aydin as well as the fate of the nation - while no lives are saved in the telling, lives are captured, preserved and savored.
Nonetheless, these two sets of tales do share a few things in common. Both contain stories that bring together kings and peasants, soldiers and merchants, fools and wise men, djinns and imams, and the entire kaleidoscope of humanity as it has existed since time immemorial. The characters (in all senses of the word) in both sets of tales lived throughout the vast Muslim and Christian worlds that were the world on either side of the small beydom of Aydin. Both sets of tales are full of wonder, with the natural and the supernatural mingling to create a world that it at once remarkably similar to our own but also magical and unique. And both are filled with people who hopefully capture our attention - at least it is my hope that readers of this collection will find a character or two to rival the fame of Sinbad, Harun al-Rashid and Sheherezade herself.
******
The Tale of the Imam Who Loved Beauty
There was once an imam who lived in the city the Greeks called Smyrna. This city was the capital of the small beydom of Aydin, on the coast of Anatolia. The imam’s name was Muhammad, named by his devout and holy mother after the Holy Prophet and Messenger of Allah himself, may Allah bless his name forever.
As a young child Muhammad was fascinated by color, by shapes, by the beauty of nature and the intricacies that Allah had placed all over the world of Anatolia (which was the only world young Muhammad knew.)
As Muhammad grew up, he realized that he wanted to serve Allah and so he began many years of study in the madrassa on his little town. After many years of diligent study he found himself as the iman of a little mosque next to the port of Smyrna. He was happy in this calm place - rising early, walking up the winding stairs of the little mosque’s only minaret to call the faithful to prayer in the morning and throughout the day, meeting the travelers who came to the mosque from their ships with their needs and hopes. He listened to their tales of the cities and towns that crowded the shores of the Middle Sea, and shared with them the peace of Allah. In short, he was a happy man.
One day he came into the mosque and saw a stranger sitting in the corner in deep contemplation. The man stayed for a short while and left without noticing Muhammad. In the days that followed, the stranger came now and then to the mosque, always sitting quietly, thinking and sometimes staring off into space. Over the days and weeks that passed, they greeted each other silently as Muhammad went about his duties and the stranger sat in silence, thinking in the quiet of the little mosque.
One day the stranger came up to Muhammad. “Holy imam, Allah’s blessings be on you. I am Murat, a servant of Isa Bey, lord of Aydin.” He and Muhammad talked about many things over the succeeding days.
One day Murat said to Muhammad, “My master is a good and just man. But he is old, and fears for the safety of this little kingdom. Once, of course, there were many small kingdoms like this in Anatolia, but slowly they are being eaten by the greedy house of Osman. Isa Bey worries that when his days are done the Osmanli Turks will devour this domain of his. I have promised to help discover a solution to this problem, and so I come every day to think, to ask Allah to reveal the path to follow. Every day I come, and every day I leave without an answer. Only Allah can show the way, but where is He?”
Muhammad, feeling a little abashed, had to admit that he did not have an answer. But promised Murat that he would think about this problem, and ask Allah to show the way.
At the mosque Muhammad kept everything in proper shape and repair. He could have hired a caretaker - but he enjoyed making sure that everything was just so. Every day he checked the carpets to make sure they were not unraveling, torn or dirty; he checked the wooden grills in the windows to make sure they were not broken or cracking; he checked the walls to make sure the whitewash and paneling was in good repair; and of course he checked the doors to make sure they could be closed and locked in the night. One morning as he was going about his rounds he noticed that a small piece of paneling had fallen off the wall. As he bent down to pick it up, he noticed that a beautiful painting had been revealed - it was small but perfectly rendered. It showed boats with sails, merchants unloading crates of treasures and spices, and a fortified city on an island. And most importantly it was full of color and life, and Muhammad fell in love with this small painting, hidden in the very midst of his mosque.
Of course, to have a picture in the mosque was not really allowed - when the city had been conquered from the Byzantines ages ago all the churches had been turned into mosques and their icons, mosaics and paintings destroyed or painted over. Muhammad had found a small relic of that past. And while he respected the teachings of his tutors at the madrassa and of course followed the tenets of Islam, he also loved the beauty of this little painting. He could not believe that Allah would be opposed to something that reflected the perfection of His creation so nicely (but not perfectly, of course, since only Allah could create perfect things). So he carefully placed the panelling back over the mosaic, and went on his way. But now and then in the early morning or the late evening he would remove the small piece of wood and look at the colors and movement captured in the painting, and imagine the story and place this small picture captured.
A few days later Murat came, as usual, to the little mosque to sit, pray and ask Allah to show the way for safety for the little kingdom of Isa Bey. Muhammad saw him, and remembered his promise. So Muhammad also sat and prayed to Allah for an answer for Isa Bey. The two men sat in silence, the waves of the sea slapping against the walls and stairs of the port, the calls of the seagulls echoing overhead, and the warmth of the day offset by the cool interior. The sun moved across the walls and carpets of the mosque as the day advanced. Finally Murat rose to return to the small palace of Isa Bey. Muhammad roused himself to bid his friend goodbye. As he rose, his eyes followed a shaft of sunlight to a panel on the wall, and the answer of Allah blossomed inside his mind.
Excitedly he rushed to Murat and told him that Allah had sent the answer! He pulled his friend over to the panel, and removing it, showed Murat the small painting of the port, the cargo, the fortified city walls. Murat looked at him questioningly, and Muhammad explained. “I found this small painting a few days ago and have been thinking about it since then. This was a Byzantine church, wasn't it, before it became a place holy to Allah? The Byzantines had many islands in their great past, but this one, I think, is a great island with a great city in its midst. I have been thinking and reading, and I believe this is the island of Cyprus.
I didn't think much about it, but just now, the sun fell on the panel and many thoughts fell into place! So I rushed over to you! Cyprus is the last of the Crusader kingdoms, a thorn in the side of Islam since the days of the great Salah ad-Din and the brave Christian, King Richard. At first I was intrigued by the colors and the patterns of its design; now I know that it was the hand of Allah that revealed this to me. Tell Isa Bey that Imam Muhammad sends him greetings and a message from Allah.
“Fear not for your kingdom. You, your family and your people are in the eyes and hands of Allah! He will protect you and defend you. Follow the warrior way and recover Cyprus for Allah, and He will bless you.”Murat, finally understanding, thanked Muhammad, excitedly ran back to the palace of Isa Bey, and conveyed the message from Imam Muhammad to Isa Bey.
Isa Bey, believing the words of Muhammad, immediately set about preparing for war. New troops were raised and trained. Before long, the final preparations were finished, men and supplies loaded onto warships, and the message of war sent to Cyprus.
As Muhammad watched all the excitement in the port, Isa Bey came to the little mosque. Muhammad fell at the feet of his lord. “Imam Muhammad, Allah’s blessings on you. You have lifted my heart and relieved my worries by discerning and revealing the message of Allah to me. The message of war has been sent to Cyprus and I will be fast behind that message with my men of war. You have reminded me that we are Ghazi, the Warriors of Allah, and that we have a holy cause to fulfill. I will return here when we have triumphed over the Crusaders of Cyprus and we will hold a holy feast day.”
Isa Bey and his men left for Cyprus that day.
Muhammad listened to the news that come back to the port over the many days and months that followed. Sometimes it seemed as if the war against the Crusaders of Cyprus would never end. But finally it did, and the city fell and the Warriors of Allah entered and possessed the city for Allah.
The victorious armies of Aydin returned to Smyrna, Isa Bey with them. Isa Bey brought a portion of the treasures of Cyprus with him and gave it to Muhammad to help with the upkeep of the mosque and the care of the poor. The neighboring nations seemed to take a bit more notice of Aydin after this remarkable victory - Aydin proved that it was a true Ghazi nation, full of the Warriors of God, and dedicated to Allah and Islam.
And in honor of the role Imam Muhammad played, Isa Bey renamed the little mosque as the Conqueror’s Mosque. This is why today it is called the Isa Bey al-Fatıh Mosque.