Page 6 - Ebook-Jataka-E
P. 6

In the year 1926, she being only twelfe years of age, Hazrat Inayat Khan - who
         for many years travelled in America and Europe to spread the Sufi Message of Love,
          Harmony and Beauty - decided to travel to India. Since 1910, the year in which he,
         together with his brothers and cousin left for the West, he had not seen his home-
          land. It was a journey without return. Noor had dreamed that the 'family baker' had
         flown away with a plane to not return again. And so it was. On February 5, 1927 her
         father passed away in Delhi.

               It was a hard blow for the whole family, unbearable for all those who had
          come into contact with Noor's father, and even worse for his wife and her children.
          Noor took over the household work and developed a deep sense for devotion and
          readiness to serve. She played the harp and the Veena, an old Indian lute, wrote
          poems and composed. 'Song to the Madzub', is one of her compositions, you will
         find it at the end of this book - a heart-moving homage and declaration of love
         to her father.


               When Noor was 24, she began to work on a translation of the Jataka Tales, a
          collection of about five hundred stories and fables about past incarnations of the
          Buddha; as a child she had already been fascinated by them. With illustrations of
          Henriette Willebeek le Mair the first edition of the “Twenty Jataka Tales” appeared,
          enthusiastically celebrated by the press. Noor began to write for the Sunday editi-
          on of the 'Figaro', she created the children's page.


               “Among the elves who lived on a mountain slope, there was a little one, she
          chattered, chattered and talked, more than the crickets in the grass or the sparrows
          in the trees. Her name was Echo“, Noor wrote in her tale “Echo“. 1938 she wrote a
          poem to her beloved mother:

                         A little fairy told me why the flowers wake in May
                         She said: “It´s for the birthday of a little Ora Ray
                        The sun, they say, is jealous of her lovely golden hair
                     The flowers look their sweetest just to try and be as fair.“











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