ভূমিকা

Shiavault - a Vault of Shia Islamic Books The Elixir of Love The Passing Away of Shaykh Rajab Ali Khayyat Finally on twenty second of Shahrivar of 1340 Solar Hijra / September 13, 1961, the blessed life of the reverend Shaykh came to an end and the bird of his soul departed this life after a life long spiritual self-building and enriching others. The story of his radiant soul's departure from the world to the sublime abode is interesting and instructive to hear.

In this section, the story of the Shaykh's passing away will be related followed by an account of the death of two other friends of God, very similar to that of the Shaykh, given in chapters two and three. The Day before his Heavenly Departure The Shaykh's son describes the day before his passing away as follows: 'The day before his death, my father was well and healthy, my mother was out, and I was alone.

In the afternoon, my father returned home, made wuzu (minor ablution) and called me, saying: "I feel a little ill, if that servant of God (a certain customer) comes to pick up his clothing, the scraps[^1] are in the pocket, and he has to pay thirty tomans as a wage." My father had never told me before that if someone came to pick up his clothes how much the wage would be. But that day I did not grasp what would happen.

A Dream by One of his Disciples One of the Shaykh's devotees who had foreseen his heavenly departure the night before his death through a "true dream", told the story as follows: 'The night before the Shaykh left this world, I dreamed they were shutting down the shops on the west side of Masjid-i Qazvin. I asked: What has happened? They said Agha Shaykh Rajab Ali Khayyat has expired. I woke up perplexed and worried. It was three hours past midnight. I regarded my dream as a true one.

After morning adhan, I said prayer and left for Agha Radmanish's house right away. He enquired surprisingly of my untimely visit and I told him about my dream. It was five in the morning, at twilight, that we set out for the Shaykh's house. The Shaykh opened the door, we went in and sat down. The Shaykh sat, too, and said: "What have you been up to at such an early morning?" I did not tell him my dream.

We talked for a while and then the Shaykh lay down on his side and placed his hand under his head, saying: "Tell something, recite a poem!" Someone sang: 'There is no time more joyful than the love days. There is no night to the day of the lovers.