At Dargah Hazrat Nizamuddin

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The author of this post interned for a month with Go!Places researching the Sufi movement and associated sites in Delhi

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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 14^th 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.

At Dargah Hazrat Nizamuddin

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 Khusrau

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 (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

In Prayer

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

Shops

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.

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]

Singer

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.

[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.

Tagged as: baraka, dargah, hazrat nizamuddin auliya, jamat khana masjid, nizamuddin, pir, qawwali, sufi, sufiana, sufism, Tomb of Amir Khusrau