|
|
|
FOREIGN SEAT: A spiritual celebration
Above all the din and clamour of banging cauldrons, inviting those who want to buy the poor a free meal, the desperate-sounding calls of beggars, the honking of horns by impatient drivers as well as the ever-rising hum of humanity as they flock to pay their respects; the final resting place of probably one of the most renowned Sufi saints of Sindh, Abdullah Shah Ghazi, rises majestically atop a small hillock. The pride and joy of Karachi’s coastline, popular belief and legend has it that the saint keeps Karachi safe of all natural calamities that might occur by way of the Persian Gulf. And who among us has not seen or heard of tornadoes and sea storms turn the other way just as they are about to hit Karachi’s shores.
What better way, then, to pay homage and respect to this spiritual personality and guardian angel than to hold his Urs amidst a display of affection and devotion. For three days on the 21, 22 and 23rd of Zilhaj every year, the shrine is bathed in colourful lights and fragrance and comes alive with the sound of devotional music such as qawwali and dhamaal.
The crowds, comprising mostly the blue-collar class, gather in circular formations to listen to the entertainers hailing from every possible local clan and culture
This year, like many others before it, Hazrat Abdullah Shah Ghazi’s Urs was observed in March with religious pomp and fervour. Devotees from all over Pakistan flocked to his steep shrine, specially after dusk, to sing, dance, listen and most importantly, to pay their respects to the Sufi saint and offer Fateha. Most of the men, women and children, overcome with emotion, could be seen pleading their case in the saint’s court, spilling out the conflict within their souls and attempting to be one with God.
As the soul-stirring display of prayer continued through the night, in the vast ground situated right next to and at the base of the mazar, a qawwali was in full swing. Devotees had swooned to the inspiring verses rendered vociferously, sending many into trance-like states. Segregation is taken care of and as the men stand in the lower portion of a big courtyard housed in a structure that seems as old as time itself, the women are able to peek in on the proceedings down below from a verandah. At various intervals, shouts of religious enchantment pierce the atmosphere already heavy with the music of the qawwal.
Also nearby, immense crowds gather to get an eyeful and listen to the live drumbeats accompanied by the dhamaal — fervent dancing in a trance-like state to the wild beat of the drums. As the crowds, comprising mostly the blue-collar class, press ever so tightly together in an attempt to get a closer look at the dancers and musicians in the middle, more such crowds gather in circular formations to listen to the entertainers hailing from every possible local clan and culture. Lost in the ecstasy of the moment, time flies by and the live entertainment takes on a new and added attraction.
The celebrations adopt heightened frenzy as the hands on my wristwatch show midnight and then move on to 1 and even 2 am. The immensely vast ground now seems to be bursting at the seams and still more people seem to file in, merging in the sea of faces. From a high point, the view gives a mediaeval look of heads dimly lit by paraffin lamps, appearing like a subject of an exotic work of art by one of the great masters.
Those who have had their fill of the night’s activity lie close by, either getting a good rubdown by the many masseurs dotting the landscape or grab some grub, courtesy the ever-present thehle ki chaat and bun kebab walay. Still more drown their built-up thirst in a cup of steamy kehwa. This invigorated, they get back to the merrymaking that goes on for another two or three hours till it’s time for Fajr prayers. Outside and around the saint’s shrine, its festivities galore as well, with people going back and forth from the shrine. Selling everything from sweet treats to incense sticks, devotional pictures to religious inscriptions, sellers make a killing with their wares selling like the proverbial hot cakes. Others dealing in jewellery crafted from seashells and plastic cater to customers with a grin plastered over their faces. Business is good, in fact it has never been better and the shopkeepers make hay while the sun shines.
Sometime after 3 am, the sizable crowd starts to disperse. The entertainers, weary to the bone, start to pack up and leave. The many buses around the mazar also finally make the move, brimming to capacity with people who have had their fill of activities seep in devotion and prayers.
|
|
|
|
