at dargah hazrat nizamuddin

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At Dargah Hazrat Nizamuddin BY GIRIJA JOSHI

Hazrat Nizamuddin’s Dargah is among the holiest Sufi shrines

in India

As I got out of the rickshaw that brought me to the entrance of Nizamuddin Basti in south-east Delhi, I

found myself amidst a human flood. It was seven o’ clock on a Friday evening, and the gullies of the basti

were teeming with people, many of them on their way to the dargah sharif of the 14th century saint

Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya, after whom the area is named. After losing my way a couple of times (as is

inevitable, I am convinced, on your first few visits) I was directed to the entrance of the shrine of the

famous pir. I found myself a spot on the verandah that surrounds the sanctum of Hazrat Nizamuddin’s

tomb, and sat there watching many scenes unfold at once.

Impressions at the Dargah As the azan was called, men trooped towards the Feruzshahi jamat khana masjid, while women picked

up copies of (what I assumed to be) the Quran sharif stacked in the gallery around the pir’s mazar. Many

women however, continued rocking back and forth in fervent prayer to the saint, that was

uninterrupted by the azan. Some of the young girls sat with their friends, chatting and laughing; other

women were tying bangles and written prayers bound with thread to the jali screens of the tomb-shrine;

still others were sitting at the door of the sanctum, praying and gazing at the saint’s sarcophagus. A few

beggars headed for obvious targets (by which I mean anyone with a camera).

I handed my offerings- garlands of flowers purchased from a stall outside the shrine- to a khadim who

placed them upon the saint’s grave, and tied a thread (which reminded me strongly of moli dhaga) to

one of the jali screens. Being a woman I was not allowed to enter the sanctum, and had to be content

with peering into the colourful room through the gaps in the jali.

Tomb of Hazrat Amir Kusrau I then made my way to the less crowded tomb of Hazrat Amir Khusrau. Once more, a khadim took my

offering of garlands and directed me to the corridors around the grave, which is where women devotees

pray. As I sat squinting through the marble screens around the poet-saint’s tomb, I saw a man in the

sanctum scoop some of the petals he had placed on the mazar as an offering into his pocket. This is a

practice modeled on the pre-Islamic Indic custom of receiving prasad at places of worship. It is based on

the belief that the baraka, or divine bliss, of the saint lingers on in the vicinity of his grave. This baraka

consecrates all offerings made to the pir, and renders them auspicious for devotees. Another practice

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(mentioned above) that I recognized as common to both temples and dargahs, is that of tying thread

around screens, trees or objects in the sacred premises that lend themselves to the purpose, in hopes

that the devotee’s wishes will be fulfilled.

Historical, Yet Contemporary What struck me most forcibly on my visits to Dargah Hazrat Nizamuddin

is how inextricably the shrine is woven into the everyday lives of so

many people. Devotees of the pir (many of whom are non-Muslims)

come from near and far seeking his intercession in their very worldly

troubles- unhappy marriages, looming examinations, financial

difficulties, no children.

As I sat watching people praying at the dargah, I couldn’t help but feel

that what I had read about Islamic mystical philosophy was in many

ways irrelevant to the contemporary reality of the shrine. Certainly the

compassion for which pirs were (and are) famous has its intellectual

explanation- but it is, perhaps, equally the product of their disposition

and charisma, that have been amplified by the hagiographical literature

produced by later generations.

It is this compassion and their mythic proximity to God, rather than their familiarity with sophisticated

mystical doctrine, for which pirs are famous today. And not only today- the living tradition of worship

one witnesses at dargahs is a product of a historical process of profanation of the transcendental.

As early as the twelfth century CE, the mystical content of Sufism was diminishing as cults mushroomed

around individual pirs. While many saints continued to be mystically inclined and accepted a few

disciples with similar philosophical interests, they increasingly attracted lay believers, who, hearing of

their walayat, or sainthood, flocked to them for succor from their worldly grief. [1] In fact, Islamic

mysticism has undergone such metamorphoses over the last millennium and more, that it seems

simplistic to define ‘Sufism’ as even a semi-coherent phenomenon.

A Web of Social Relations Regardless of what tradition of worship the cult around Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya belongs to- and

perhaps disaggregating the strands that constitute this tradition is not quite possible- it is certainly

closely bound up in the fabric of many lives. Not just devotees though- the khadims, pirzadas (official at

the shrine, often descendants of the saint) and many others who live near the shrine are economically

dependent on the saint’s legendary baraka, that has made the site a favourite amongst pilgrims.





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The shops near the dargah, for example, sell not only offerings of

flowers, incense and chaddars, but also the opportunity for zakah,

to do charity, one of the five pillars of Islam. (Zakah is perhaps

especially important for ardent devotees of Hazrat Nizamuddin,

for the saint is believed to have been generous and self-negating

in the extreme.) As I walked down to the shrine, shopkeepers

called out to me to have the poor fed on my account- a quick way

to boost my piety! [2]

The qawwals too derive their livelihood from working at the shrine. (On my first visit I noted, somewhat

cynically, that the ‘best seats’, so to speak, at that evening’s qawwali session- right next to the qawwals-

were occupied by foreign tourists.) Though Thursdays are traditionally reserved for sama (literally

‘audition’, though in Sufic terminology, it contains the added meaning of listening with the heart) *3+,

the qawwals at the dargah of Hazrat Nizamuddin perform throughout the week. Male devotees (at least,

I didn’t see any women) express their appreciation for the music by placing money at the qawwals’ feet.

Many also tip the men who fan devotees as they sit in the courtyard of the shrine complex.

As I walked back to Mathura Road from the dargah I was left with a distinct impression of the fusion of

many realms into a mosaic of economy, polity, ritual and intense belief. In his lifetime, Hazrat

Nizamuddin is said to have assured his lay disciples that moral living, rather than asceticism, was the key

to salvation. Posthumously, he continues to be at the centre of a web of social relations, himself

transcendent, and thereby invested with the power to assure his devotees success in their worldly, yet

moral, endeavours.

Footnotes

[1] An indicator of the intensity of popular belief in the baraka of Hazrat Nizamuddin is the number of

elites buried in the vicinity of his shrine. Princess Jahanara Begum, Akbar II’s son Mirza Jahangir and the

Muhammad Shah ‘Rangeela’ are amongst the prominent Mughals interred within the complex. In more

recent times, a large metal plaque, placed above the mazar of Amir Khusrau records the devotion, piety

and status of a devotee from Bangladesh, while also assuring him spiritual merit.

[2] The stalls that line the alleys leading to the dargah were, at one time, manned predominantly by

pirzadas- those claiming ancestral links to Hazrat Nizamuddin. According to a study published in the

1970s, many pirzadas were seeking employment beyond the basti, thus leading to an influx of outsiders

into the economy of the dargah. I imagine that this process only accelerated with the years. (Patricia

Jeffrey, Frogs in a Well: Indian Women and Purdah, Vikas Publishing House, 1979.)

[3] Once more, it is interesting to note the changes wrought by time in the Sufic traditions of worship.

While customarily the emphasis of sama was on audition rather than performance, in the age of mass

media, qawwali and sufiana kalam have become popular genres of music that have brought the

performers to the forefront. The widespread popularity of sufiana music is exemplified by the remix of

Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan’s Dam Mast Qalandar by the British group Massive Attack.



at dargah hazrat nizamuddin

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