Every year during the lunar months of Muharram and Safar - known as Ayyam-i-Aza - Karachi, for all its modernity, witnesses a centuries old tradition in the form of mourning processions taken out for the martyrs of Karbala. And one of the most distinct features of these processions are the Alams and Tazias carried by mourners as a sign of their love and devotion to Imam Hussain (AS).

Alam is the Arabic word for battle standard, associated with Hazrat Abbas (AS), the flag-bearer of Karbala, while Tazia is a three-dimensional representation of the Imam`s shrine.

Tazias can be quite elaborate and have a long history in the subcontinent, as they are particular to the region (with some variations found in Indonesia and the Caribbean), while these particular mourning symbols are not found in the Arab lands or Iran.

The main mourning processions are taken out from Numaish to the Hussainiyya Iranian on the ninth and tenth of Muharram and the twentieth of Safar. However, the last significant act of the mourning period in Karachi is the Chup Tazia procession taken out on the eighth day of Rabiul Awwal, which this year falls on March 6.

This Hijri date marks the end of the mourning period as well as Imam Askari`s (AS) martyrdom, for after this day, the black flags on the Alams are replaced by green standards to welcome the birth of the Holy Prophet (PBUH).

Unlike the Muharram and Safar processions, there are no elegies chanted in honour of the martyrs (hence the name) and only the Tazias and Alams are brought out. This tradition is also particular to the subcontinent.

As for the history of the Tazia, according to Ghulam Abbas, author of the very informative Tazias of Chiniot, the tradition of displaying Tazia as a replica of the Imam`s shrine was introduced to India by Amir Timur in 1400, or thereabouts. He writes that in Pakistan, three cities are known for their Tazia craftsmen Chiniot, Jhang and Hyderabad.

But one need not go too far as Tazias are also built in the city. Peetal Gali in Rizvia Colony, Ghans Mandi and a location near the Numaish roundabout are said to be abodes of craftsmen who build the revered symbols. Other areas where one can find smaller replicas and Alams include Ancholi and Soldier Bazaar.

Tazias tend to cross sectarian and even religious boundaries, as one remembers reading of a Sunni lady based in Saddar who, along with her sons, faithfully has a Tazia built every year based on the design of the tomb of Khwaja Moinuddin Hasan Chishty, the respected sage of Ajmer. This is perhaps a cosmic coincidence as the celebrated rubaiyy, `Shah ast-o Hussain (AS)`, is attributed to Khwaja Sahib.

And every year on the tenth of Muharram, both Shias and Sunnis take out Tazias in remembrance of the Imam`s struggle and suffering. But the ninth Muharram, Ashura, Chehlum and Chup Tazia processions are not the only ones where Alams and Tazias are displayed, as believers take out countless smaller processions in and around their neighbourhoods during Ayyam-i-Aza.—QAM

The mysterious vagrant

Life in a city changes at a hectic pace. At times you notice the difference and at times you don`t. Just a couple of years back the traffic-signal crossing at the Hassan Square was full of vibrancy and a plethora of people could be seen moving to and fro. Both pedestrians and drivers would notice a one-legged bearded Pukhtoon sitting on the corner of the island opposite the Civic Centre. I never saw him speaking to anyone. Maybe he was the silent type.

He would wear a turban and white shalwar-qameez day in and day out that would appear to be spotless and crisp as if he had just got it dry-cleaned.

However, what attracted people`s attention towards him was his four-year-old son who too was attired exactly like his father except that he also wore a black embroidered vest along with a pair of Peshawari sandals. His father knew too well that his son would prove to be his best asset for collecting alms.

And he was dead on target about it - the boy`s cute looks and innocence made people`s hearts melt. They dipped their hands into their pockets for loose change and passed it onto him. Later, the Pukhtoon also started bringing his daughter, who must have been a couple of years older than his son, to add to his fortunes.

A couple of metres from them used to stand a slender-framed, dark-complexioned man, selling his small wooden and paper sheep arranged in rows on the same island. Half of them were black and half were white. However, the poor man was no black sheep of his family as he preferred toiling and sweating in the heat of the sun for selling his wares rather than taking the easy way out by becoming a beggar. As soon as the signal turned red, he rushed towards cars with several of his black and white sheep and did his best to earn some money to feed his family.

A couple of years back construction on the Justice Nizam Ahmed Bridge started. As soon as work on it began, the Afghan man and his children disappeared. So did the sheep-selling man. And so did the countless of beggars, including the monkey beggar, the wind-shield cleaners, the TV pamphlet distributors, the coconut sellers, the dholwalas and the eunuchs. Although I have seen most of these at the crossing of the Shaheed-i-Millat Road, Jamshed Road, Jail Road and University Road and at other traffic signals, but I have never seen or heard anything about the one-legged beggar and his children. It was as if they had just disappeared into oblivion.—Mohsin Maqbool Elahi

Compiled by Syed Hassan Ali

karachian@dawn.com