Like a bright lamp, he shone out in that Household. He wished neither rank nor office, and had no worldly aims at all. His one supreme desire was to serve Bahá’u’lláh, and for this reason he was never separated from his Brother’s presence. No matter what torments the others inflicted, his loyalty equaled the cruelty of the rest, for he had drunk the wine of unadulterated love.
Then the voice was heard, crying out of Shíráz, and from a single utterance of Bahá’u’lláh’s his heart was filled with light, and from a single gust that blew over the gardens of faith, he caught the fragrance. At once, he began to serve the friends. He had an extraordinary attachment to me, and was at all times concerned for my well-being. In Tihrán he occupied himself day and night with propagating the Faith and gradually became well known to everyone; habitually he spent his time in the company of blessed souls.
Bahá’u’lláh then left Tihrán, journeying to Iraq, and of His brothers the two who were in His company were Áqáy-i-Kalím and Mírzá Muhammad-Qulí. They turned their faces away from Persia and the Persians, and closed their eyes to comfort and peace; in the Beloved’s path they chose with all their hearts to bear whatever calamity should be their lot.
Thus they arrived in Iraq. During the days when Bahá’u’lláh had vanished from sight, that is, when He was on the journey to Kurdistán, Áqáy-i-Kalím lived on the edge of an abyss; his life was constantly in danger, and each day that passed was worse than the one before; still, he bore it all, and knew no fear. When at last the Blessed Beauty returned out of Kurdistán, Áqáy-i-Kalím resumed his post by the Holy Threshold, rendering every service within his power. For this he became known far and wide. At the time when Bahá’u’lláh left Baghdad for Constantinople, Áqáy-i-Kalím was with Him and continued to serve along the way, as he did on the further journey from Constantinople to Adrianople.
It was during the sojourn in this latter city that he detected from Mírzá Yahyá the odor of rebellion. Day and night he tried to make him mend his ways, but all to no avail. On the contrary, it was astonishing how, like a deadly poison, the temptings and satanic suggestions of Siyyid Muhammad worked on Mírzá Yahyá, so that Áqáy-i-Kalím finally abandoned hope. Even then he never ceased trying, thinking that somehow, perhaps, he could still the tempest and rescue Mírzá Yahyá from the gulf. His heart was worn away with despair and grief. He tried everything he knew. At last he had to admit the truth of these words of Saná’í:
If to the fool my lore you’d bring,
Or think my secrets can be told
To him who is not wise—
Then to the deaf go harp and sing,
Or stand before the blind and hold
A mirror to his eyes.
When all hope was gone, he ended the relationship, saying: “O my brother, if others are in doubt as to this affair, you and I both know the truth. Have you forgotten the loving-kindness of Bahá’u’lláh, and how He trained us both? What care He took with your lessons and your penmanship; how constantly He saw to your spelling and your composition, and encouraged you to practice the different calligraphic styles; He even guided your copy with His own blessed fingers. Who does not know how He showered favors on you, how He brought you up in the haven of His embrace. Is this your thanks for all His tenderness—that you plot with Siyyid Muhammad and desert the shelter of Bahá’u’lláh? Is this your loyalty? Is this the right return for all His love?” The words had no effect whatever; on the contrary, with each passing day, Mírzá Yahyá disclosed a greater measure of his concealed intent. Then at the end, the final rupture took place.
From Adrianople, Áqáy-i-Kalím went on with the convoy of Bahá’u’lláh, to the fortress of ‘Akká. His name was specifically listed in the Sultán’s decree, and he was condemned to perpetual banishment. He devoted all his time in the Most Great Prison to serving Bahá’u’lláh, and had the honor of being continually in his Brother’s presence, also keeping company with the believers; until at last he left this world of dust and hastened to the holy world above…
Mírzá Músá was indeed a true brother to the Blessed Beauty; this is why he remained steadfast, under all conditions, to the very end. Unto him be praise and salutations, and the breath of life, and glory; upon him be mercy and grace.
- ‘Abdu’l-Baha (From a talk; ‘Memorials of the Faithful’)