IN PRAISE OF AJMER’S GHARIB NAWAZ
A book on Khwaja Muinuddin Chishti is timely in this era of religious strife
We live in conflicted times, the divide between Us and Them stark, the lynch of the Other the newest rage. In that sense Reema Abbasi’s book on Khwaja Muinuddin Chishti, the Sufi saint whose resting place is the Ajmer Sharif dargah, is timely.
For, the Khwaja, fondly addressed as Gharib Nawaz, is visited each year by millions cutting across religious and economic strata – exuding confidence in India’s plurality. His resting place silently upholding the syncretic tradition of the subcontinent, disregarding divisions of all kinds, reinforcing the spirit of humanity, quietly swimming against the political and social undercurrents.
And that is Abbasi’s main contention. For her, the conflicts of the 21st century are no different from those Gharib Nawaz experienced when he left Sistan (Iran/ Pakistan border) to make ‘Ajameru’ home – eight centuries ago. The great saint was born in 1141, two decades before the birth of Genghis Khan, the founder of the Mongol Empire, and was witness to several conquests. The attacks ruined the region’s peace and unsettled ordinary folk, who saw the wealth of the great Silk Road contested by several armies.
“It was no longer possible to live and love in Chisht” - the name of the oncepeaceful town near Herat in present day Afghanistan – and home to the hermits of the Chishtiya Silsila or order. The hermits dispersed and wandered in search of calm. Gharib Nawaz made his way into the subcontinent through Multan to practice the Chishtiya way of life never forgetting that “respect for other human beings is the most obvious manifestation of a person’s devotion to god”. He chose Ajmer, staying away from the political centres of power, welcoming the distressed and the hungry without prejudice, making them believe in the power of love. He discouraged religious supremacy and patriarchy by example - his wife was a central leader and his only daughter became a caliph - an aspect practiced at his seat, but not at other shrines of his lineage.
Abbasi acknowledges that most of the literature available on the saint is in Persian. When folklore made it difficult for her to penetrate to the facts, Hamiduddin Nagori came to the rescue. Nagori documented the saint’s life – his passion for music and how he brought qawwali with him – during the saint’s lifetime. However, Abbasi’s research goes beyond Gharib Nawaz. She documents details of his heirs and his favourite disciples who helped carry forward his legacy – which was strangely forgotten for a long while after his death in 1236. Nawaz’s legacy was resurrected in the 16th century, and how! Mughal Emperor Shah Jahan became a patron. In the 30 years that he ruled, he visited the shrine five times, making generous donations. Princess Jahanara, his daughter, was also a devout follower. In her biography of the saint, she calls herself a faqira, the ascetic, who came into the Chishti fold – four centuries after the saint’s passing away. Surprisingly, Aurangzeb, an orthodox king, too was a patron. His first visit to the shrine was after he executed his brother Dara Shikoh in 1659.
The timing of the chronicling of the legacy of Gharib Nawaz seems perfect as there is a dire need to offer a counter-narrative to our differences that are being accentuated in the subcontinent. In that sense, Abbasi scores a grand “A” for coming up with this coffee-table edition. However, there is also a grand flaw. The book often asserts the necessity of Gharib Nawaz’s philosophy in our conflicted times, but there is little text devoted to that. As a result, the details that are there of the architectural splendour of the shrine are repetitive. Also, the compositions of many of the 200 pictures are poor, with some being taken off Wikipedia. Yet, Abbasi has done us all a favour by showing us that there is light at the end of the tunnel. By telling us that stand we must and be heard even if the shrines are being bombed, and qawwals being gunned down. Most importantly, she reminds us that we need to dissolve our differences the way it’s done at Gharib Nawaz’s shrine. That is the only hope in these times of lynch.
“Do teach me, o’ sire of heavenly rank, How to lead my life amongst enemies!” - Mohammed Iqbal