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To: alt.magick.tyagi,alt.satanism,talk.religion.misc,alt.islam.sufism
From: tyagi@houseofkaos.abyss.com (nagasiva)
Subject: RBaker: Yezidi Peacock
Date: 18 Jun 1997 12:55:27 -0700

[from tariqas@world.std.com: Rob Baker ]

[...]

Concerning the dialogue that has been going on about darkness and 
light, good and evil (Lobster's black heart metaphor), I offer the 
following startling parable,which I found in the Kathryn Hulme papers 
at the Beinecke library at Yale and hope to publish soon. (Hulme was 
the author of the NUN'S STORY and a longtime student of G.I. Gurdjieff 
in Paris. This was found in the section of her papers devoted to her 
studies with him, leading me to surmise that Hulme heard the story 
from Gurdjieff himself. It was typed on her typewriter, but is 
attributed to one "Count Bobrinkoy" and is couched in terms of 
personal reminiscence of a Russian traveler on a hunting expedition to 
the area "around th River Araxes which flows into the Caspian Sea 
dividing Russia from Persia . . . the southernmost tip of 
Transcaucasia between Nakhitchevan and Ordubad." The count hears the 
following story from his Kurdish Yezidi guide:

"[Once upon a time, A Yezidi shepherd was] bringing his flock home to 
the mountain cave where he lived. Suddenly the sky was torn asunder by 
a blinding flash of lightning whilst, almost simultaneously, there 
followed such a roar of thunder as would have deafened a giant. The 
shepherd flung himself down upon the bare rock, and hiding his face, 
prayed to the great Power of Life and Death that he might be spared. 
Then, looking up, he saw an Angel standing in the middle of the 
Heavens with an enormous spear in his hand.

"There followed another terrifying clap of thunder, and something was 
hurled from the sky down onto the crags below. A great gust of wind 
arose and swept over the mountain tops. The valley shook. Then all was 
quiet again.

"Gradually recovering from his great shock the shepherd rose from the 
ground and looked around. He saw that a huge cedar had been struck by 
the lightning and was lying across a deep ravine.

"On the further bank lay a beautiful peacock badly hurt but still 
alive. The shepherd crawled across the fallen tree trunk and took the 
dying bird in his arms. After washing its wounds in a nearby stream, 
he carried it into the cave which was his home. Without any thought of 
sleep he tended it throughout the long night. When the morning came 
the peacock had completely recovered and spoke to the shepherd in a 
human voice, saying: ' Be not afrid, man, you were kind to me in my 
misfortune, so I will reward you and all your descendants. I am the 
Spirit of Evil thrown out of heaven by my twin, the Spirit of Good. 
But I am not conquered. On earth, as in Heaven, I shall continue the 
struggle. Amongst men I shall spread sorrow and instill my poison in 
their hearts so that the great conflict will be implanted within them. 
Teach your descendants to accept Evil as you have accepted me. Be 
compassionate towards evil both in yourselves and in others. Delight 
me with songs. Placate me with prayers. Tend me as you have tended me 
last night.'

"So saying, the Angel Peacock, Melek Taus as we call him, spread his 
wings and flew away over the inaccessible mountain-tops. That is why 
we Yezidi, the descendants of that compassionate shepherd, sing hymns 
to appease and glorify the Spirit of Evil to this very day. Our hymns 
are scorned by the rest of the world. Both Christians and Muslims 
alike hate and persecute us. They call us 'Muraddun'-- Infidels and 
Devil-Worshippers. Our priests, Qawasls, travel secretly and do not 
wear priestly robes. They carry with them, hidden away from Muslim and 
Christian eyes, the effigy of a peacock. When we pray, we do not turn 
towards Mecca like the Muslims but towards the Polar Star, the 
immovable source of light in darkness, the point of the axis round 
which the whole universe resolves. We honor Wednesday as our day of 
rest, not Friday like the Muslims, nor Sunday like the Christians. A 
quarter of all we earn we give to the poor. Churches we have none, for 
if we built them they would be at once destryed by either Muslims or 
Christians. But we are not angry. We do not hate our persecutors 
because our religion bids us to be tolerant."

Wise words from a "heathen," I share them in the spirit of questioning 
and search, of exploring the deep and endless mysteries of the heart, 
not as a challenge to or attack on (any) belief.

"Be compassionate towards evil in yourself and others." What a 
shocking concept!

Rob Baker
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