LAHORE: A string of lights is being stretched overhead across a narrow alleyway and men dressed in black stand outside their homes watching the process. The yellow lights have illuminated the otherwise dark lanes.

From a distance, dirges, or nohas can be heard from shops and homes. Alams have been hoisted on many rooftops with the silver palm of the Panjtan gleaming in light. A scent of burning incense wafts through the air. The Walled City is ready for Muharram.

Syeda Mubarak Begum Imambargah’s green grill is padlocked even though there are people making arrangements inside. But the closed gate does not stop devotees from praying from the outside.

The imambargah is named after the wife of Syed Maratab Ali, a renowned supplier for the British Army and Indian Railways before Partition. Mubarak Begum’s ancestors include the Fakir brothers -- Azizuddin, Imamuddin and Nooruddin, who served as emissaries of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. Even the imambargah was once a Sikh haveli, but for at least the first 10 days of Muharram it is used as a place of devotion. On the first of Muharram, a Zuljinah procession arrives at this spacious place tucked away at the end of Koocha-i-Faqir Khana, in the Bazaar-i-Hakeeman (Bhati Gate).

In the Said (Syed) Mitha Bazaar, inner Lohari, Zulfiqar Ali has opened the doors to his special one-room imambargah, Qaafla-i-Sham – named after Hazrat Imam Hussain’s entourage that travelled to Syria. A magnificent tazia made of pure silver is hidden under a black velvet cloth. Its craftsmanship and beauty is what attracts many people every Thursday all year round, but in Muharram it is open all day.

“We have a licence for this since before Partition under the All India Act 1935, and later the laws adopted here,” says Ali, whose father Ikhlaq Hussain used to lead the procession with this tazia.

It is in this imambargah that a symbolic mehndi of Hazrat Imam Hussain’s nephew Qasim is observed every year on seventh of Muharram -- a tradition where henna is smeared on the palms even by men.

“The seventh marks Hazrat Qasim’s wedding as he was about to be married when he was martyred. We observe the mehndi, but with tears,” says Ali whose family originally belongs to Patiala. Ali’s tazia procession would originate from Patiala and travel to Lahore. Today, it is limited to the Walled City.

There are about 367 imambargahs in the Walled City with 287 in Mochi Gate alone. In the past, when Taxali Gate was a flourishing red light district, the 30 days of Muharram would see the bazaars closed. The tradition is followed even today though the dancing girls and their families no longer live there.

In Tibbi Gali, Bilal, who is a backing vocalist and dhol player and has musical notes tattooed across his arm, says they shut shop until Ashura even though they must strictly not play till the ninth of Rabiul Awal -- well after the chehlum.

Shahzad Ali, a dhol maker, says he is looking forward to zakir Gulfam Hussain Hashmi from Sialkot.

“Because he describes the scene of Karbala the best and never speaks without evidence,” he adds.

For the poor, Muharram brings along niaz. Babar’s face lights up as he lists all the food cooked here. “We have spinach biryani, daal and naan or rice, qorma and so many other things,” he says.

In Bhati Gate, an elderly Parveen sits in the courtyard of her old haveli with her daughter Beena. “Tomorrow, we will cook meethay chawal (sweet rice) and distribute it among the poor,” she says.

Businesses are also thriving. Ashfaq Hussain and his sons are busy sharpening knives and daggers. They claim to have received an order for a thousand, and it is only the first of the holy month. Milk is going to be sold by gallons for being distributed at sabeels. Flowers too are bought throughout Muharram.

There are many for whom the loss becomes personal in Muharram. An entire family was wiped out when gas cylinders exploded in an 11-storey illegal structure in the Mochi Gate area. Many others were also killed.

Veteran guitarist Asad Ali of the famous Sachal Orchestra remembers many friends and acquaintances who died in the explosion. “It is important to find context in the painful stories of the battle of Karbala because in pain we become one nation, one community,” he says.

“That is why during the first 10 days we are lost in misery, not bothering about anything worldly.”

Published in Dawn, September 13th, 2018