Who is the Chickpea?
A chickpea leaps almost over the rim of the pot where it’s being boiled
“Why are you doing this to me?”
The cook knocks him down with the ladle .
“Don’t you try to jump out. You think I’m torturing you. I’m giving you flavor, so you can mix with spice and rice and be the lovely variety of a human being.
Remember when you drank rain in the garden. That was for this.”
Grace first. Sexual pleasure, then a boiling new life begins, and the Friend has something good to eat.
Eventually the chickpea will say to the cook, “Boil me some more. Hit me with the skimming spoon. I can’t do this by myself.
I’m like an elephant that dreams of gardens back in Hindustan and doesn’t pay attention to his driver. You’re my cook, my driver, my way into existence. I love your cooking.”
The cook says, “I once was like you, fresh from the ground. Then I boiled in time, and boiled in the body, two fierce boilings.
My animal soul grew powerful. I controlled it with practices, and boiled some more, and boiled once beyond that, and became your teacher.”
Rumi, September 30, 1207-December 17, 1273