Hope, Fear and Knowledge

When a great Sufi mystic, Hassan, was dying, somebody asked, ‘Hassan, who was your Master?’
He said, ‘Now it is too late to ask. Time is short, I am dying.’ But the inquirer asked, ‘You can simply say the name. You are still alive, you are still breathing and talking, you can simply tell me the name.’
He said, ‘It will be difficult because I had thousands of Masters. If I just relate their names it will take months and years. It is too late. But three Masters I will certainly tell you about.
‘One was a thief. Once I got lost in the desert, and when I reached the village it was very late. Half the night was already gone; shops were closed, caravanserais were closed. There was not a single human being on the roads. I searched for somebody to inquire of. I found one man who was trying to make a hole in the wall of a house. I asked him where I could stay, and he said, “I am a thief, and you look like a Sufi mystic to me.”‘ His robe, his aura. ‘And the thief said, “Right now it will be very difficult to find any place

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