The number of poems written for this festive occasion in different languages is beyond reckoning. Using local idiom and metaphor, they express a deep, trusting love for the Beloved of God whose life and sayings, as exemplified in the Hadith, influence the lives of Believers in more ways than can be counted. While an unshakeable love for the Prophet is the strongest binding force among Muslims, its expression in song - often using the language of conventional love poetry and the idiom of the ghazal and the geet - is frowned upon by some. Others believe that since twelfth Rabi’ul-awwal is not only the day of the Prophet’s birth but also considered to be the day of his death, such celebrations are inappropriate. Still others are uncomfortable with this almost mystical veneration of the Prophet that seems not in keeping with the essential spirit of Islam. Many point out, quite rightly, that the cornerstone of Islam is the Word of God, not the person of His Messenger.
And yet, love, hope and trust in Muhammad the Messenger of Allah continues to find expression in poetry. Annemarie Schimmel in her seminal book And Muhammad is His Messenger traces the origins of poetry in honour of the Prophet. She writes:
It seems that the tendency to celebrate the memory of Muhammad’s birthday on a larger and more festive scale emerged first in Egypt during the Fatimid Era (969-1171). This is logical, for the Fatimids claim to be the Prophet’s descendants through his daughter Fatima … It was apparently an occasion in which mainly scholars and the religious establishment participated. They listened to sermons, and sweets, particularly honey, the Prophet’s favorite, were distributed; the poor received alms.
Travelling through northern Africa, the Middle East, Turkey, Iran and Sindh, the notion that celebrating Maulid provided baraka or blessings to the listeners first reached south India. In its infancy, this tradition among Muslims in the Deccan initially paid homage to not just Hazrat Muhammad but the three first Caliphs of Islam, as well as all members of the Prophet’s immediate family, especially Hazrat Ali. Coloured by Sufism, influenced by the fast-gaining popularity of the soz khwani and marsiya khwani traditions of Awadh, it flowered in homes and mehfil khanas all across the north, reaching as far east as Bengal. Gradually all references to Ali and the sahabis were dropped and the milad tradition as it evolved and flourished in north India from the nineteenth century onwards dwelled exclusively on events associated with the birth of the Prophet.
Ghulam Imam Shahid, an Urdu poet of the early nineteenth century put it best when he announced:
Friends, before all of us is the journey into non-existence –
But when one has words of the naat, then one has provisions for the road!
While every naat-poet down the ages has expressed his inability to express the true greatness of the Prophet, they have struggled nonetheless to find the right words. Tender, loving, colourful, rustic, sophisticated, subtle, grandiloquent – the terms and images vary, but what doesn’t is admiration for the many qualities the Prophet embodied. Patience, wisdom, modesty, gratitude, intelligence, respect for women are exemplary qualities and dwelling on them in such loving detail is virtually an exercise in ‘character-building’! Songs celebrating the Mard-e-Kamil, the Perfect Man, the exemplar and model for every believing Musalman, whose every action and habit, no matter how seemingly trivial, began to be written not just in Urdu but in many dialects such as khari boli, bhojpuri, dehati and so on. In naat after naat, the Prophet appears before his listeners as an archetype for all forms of human beauty, or as the poet Saghar Nizami says, he becomes: ‘Beauty from head to toe, love embodied’. Fashioned first on the Arab models such as the burda and later on the Persian masnawis, the Indian versions wove in many indigenous elements. Mohsin Kakorwi, in the early nineteenth century, writes:
Simt-e-Kashi se chala janib-e-Mathura badal
Barq ke kandhe pe laati hai hawa Ganga jal
From the direction of Benares went a cloud towards Mathura
The wind carries the water from the Ganga on thunder’s shoulder
Mirza Ghalib has written some exquisitely fashioned naat in Persian, the most famous being a masnawi called ‘Abr-i-Gauharbar’ or ‘The Jewel-Carrying Cloud’ where the Prophet is compared to the rain cloud which brings blessings in the form of life-giving rain, and is in keeping with his role as Rahmatan lil-Aalameen. The visionary Iqbal too has written a great deal on the Prophet. In Jawab-e-Shikwa (The Answer to the Complaint) he writes:
Ki Muhammad se wafa tuney to haum terey hain
Ye jahan cheez hai kya lauh-o qalam tere hain
If you have been faithful to Muhammad I am with you
Why just this world but the pen and the tablet are yours
Derived from the Arabic word viladut which means birth, Maulid celebrates the birth of Hazrat Muhammad Rasool Allah. However, it need not be celebrated only on the twelfth or during the month of Rabi’ul-awwal. Milad, literally meaning birthday or anniversary, can be held, in fact, on any auspicious day such as a marriage, child birth, house warming or a celebration of any glad tidings. Milad mehfils all across north India proceed along fairly time-honoured ways. A good time to hold them is usually between the asir and maghrib namaz, giving people ample time to enjoy the proceedings; though they can just as well be held between zuhr and asir, i.e. between late afternoon and early evening. Usually segregated, a typical milad would begin with Quran khwani or recitation of verses from the Holy Quran. This would be followed by a hamd in praise of Allah. Some of the best-loved, and also most commonly memorized lyrics are to be found in a wonderful little book called Milad-e-Akbar. (My mother has a dog-eared copy, so do I, and one day I hope my daughters too will have a copy of this much-loved book and shall, hopefully, be able to read it in Urdu!) A typical example of a hamd would be:
Tujhe dhoondhta hoon main char su, teri shaan jall-e-jalal hu
Tu mila qareeb rag-e-gulu, teri shaan jall-e-jalal hu
I looked for You in all four directions, May Your Glory be Glorified
I found You near the vein in my collar, May Your Glory be Glorified
The reciters sit on a low takht – not a pulpit as you see in a majlis – and the audience sits on the floor which has some sort of farsh arrangement – usually durries covered with white cloth called chandni. Bolsters or gau takhyias are scattered on the farsh. Agarbattis are lit and rose water sprinkled before the milad mehfil gets underway. The hamd is followed by naats, panegyrics in praise of the Prophet.
Beginning with poems celebrating the Prophet’s paidaish or nativity, they go on to relate anecdotes about his life, express joy at his many sayings, or express longing to visit Medina. Those who have not been able to visit the holy cities of Mecca and Medina have written some incredibly sweet verses, describing the arduous journey, each according to their imagination in ever-new imagery. So, you have naats such as: ‘Madina ka safar hai aur mai namdeeda namdeeda’; or ‘Sun tayba nagar ke maharaja faryaad mori in asuan ki, more nain dukhi hain sukhdata de bheek inhe ab darshan ki’; or ‘Mora jab se laga hai nabi ji se ji, mohe pal bhar chain naa aawat hai’; or ‘Chalo yasrab nagri ai ri sakhi mora hind me ji ghabrawat hai’.
In fact, Indian poets more than any others, have dwelled, in great ecstasy, on the motif of Medina, imploring the Prince of Medina to intercede on their behalf. In the course of a milad, the naat are interspersed, at every few intervals with prose passages narrating specific instances from the Prophet’s life, his views, on say, education, the position of women, or any other subject chosen by the zakir, or the narrator. In large public gatherings, a renowned alim or maulvi is invited to perform the zikr. In private gatherings, it can be any well-respected man or woman. The audience is encouraged to recite durood sharif and send salaam, greetings, to the Prophet. Rose water is sprinkled, or attar is applied on the wrists of all those present – the haazreen-e-mehfil – sometime during or immediately after reciting the paidaish. The entire congregation gets to its feet when the salaam is being read. Again, the most popular salaam (salutations) is to be found in Milad-e-Akbar, one that has be
en read with solemn and sonorous dignity for generations:
Ya nabi salaam alaika ya rasool salaam aleika
Ya habib salam alaika, salawatullah alaika
Others, such as the one by Hafiz Jallundhari - ‘Salam ae Aamina ke laal, ae Mehboob-e-Subhani’ - send similar salutations to the son of Aamina and Beloved of God. The mehfil ends with dua or munajaat. Some of the most popular ones are ‘Momino’n waqt-e-rehmat-e-rab hai, ab woh maango jo dil ka maqsad hai’; unconventional choices would be Iqbal’s: ‘Ya rab dil-e-Muslim ko woh zinda tamanna de jo rooh ko tadpa de jo qalb ko garma de’ or Hali’s ‘Woh nabion mein rehmat laqab pane wala muradein gharibon ki bar lane wala’. Hissa or sweets are distributed in the end and the congregation disperses.
3
LIVE LIKE ALI, DIE LIKE HUSAIN!
Husain ibn-e-Ali Karbala ko jaate hai’n
Magar yeh log abhi tak gharo’n ke andar hai’n
Husain, the son of Ali, walks towards Karbala
But these people still hide in their homes
Guzre the Husain ibn-e-Ali raat idhar se
Hum mein se magar koi bhi nikla nahi ghar se
Husain, the son of Ali, passed by this road last night
But not one among us stepped out of our homes
THE TWO SHER ABOVE BY the noted Urdu poet Shahryar sum up the popular sentiment among Shias and Sunnis alike about Husain - son of Ali, grandson of the Prophet, martyr in the Battle of Karbala. Handsome, charismatic, fearless warrior and loving family man, Husain is an enduring emblem of a brave man wronged, tragically felled by forces beyond his control yet choosing to fight until the bitter end despite a foreknowledge of the odds stacked against him. It is precisely this element of choice that makes Husain such a powerful symbol of martyrdom, one that transcends his time and circumstance. It is also the quality of unflinching, unyielding uprightness which could neither be silenced nor bought over that makes Husain the ultimate ‘alienated’ hero. What adds to the poignancy of his situation is his aloneness at the hour of reckoning. Save for a handful of family members, no one came to his aid. The majority watched and listened but did nothing. Even today, we have all - regardless of faith or religious mooring - known a Husain in our lives or witnessed a Karbala in the making, one that resembles the real-life incidents of over 1,300 years ago.
Within fifty years of the Prophet’s death, the small community of believers was torn asunder by conflicting claims to leadership. The governor of Syria, Mu’aviya, opposed Ali and wrested the caliphate from him. His son, Yezid, carried the enmity forward by demanding allegiance (bay’ah) from Ali’s son and successor Husain. When Husain declined, Yezid issued an unequivocal call: Surrender or die! Surrender meant recognition of Yezid and the power he had wrongfully wrested. For Husain both were unacceptable; instead, he chose willing sacrifice of himself, his family and supporters. In his speech delivered before his journey to Kufa, he spoke of his choice in the following words:
O God, You know that we did not seek, in what we have done, acquisition of power, or ephemeral possessions. Rather, we seek to manifest the truths of Your religion and establish righteousness in Your lands, so that the wronged among Your servants may be vindicated, and that men may abide by the duties (fara’id), laws (sunan) and Your ordinances (ahkam).
It was the month of Muharram, the year 679 AD - seventy men held out against 4,000 in a desert named Karbala, approximately seventy kilometres from Kufa. Rations dwindled, men died in battle, children were slaughtered and the enemy closed in on the small, besieged group. On the eighth day of the battle, the water supply was cut off. The river Euphrates glimmered in the distance but the way to the water was barred. Ill, hungry, dying of thirst, the bedraggled but valiant group faced battle on the fateful tenth day, the day called Ashura, when all perished save for three male members and some women and children who were paraded to Damascus to be presented before Yezid. The decapitated bodies of those who were slain, including Husain, were trampled beneath the hooves of the victors’ horses, and their camps set on fire. Humiliated and defiled in death before the people he loved, and who loved him unequivocally, his head carried on a spear, the women and children of his clan mocked, Husain moved from history into legend becoming, in the process, a larger-than-life icon of confrontation and resistance.
Muharram is the first month of the Islamic lunar calendar. But it brings with it not festivity and rejoicing but the memory of the martyrdom of Husain; that it should do so until this day 1,300-odd years after the terrible events at Karbala, is significant. It speaks of not just how dearly Muslims hold Husain and how deeply they still feel the anguish of his suffering but also how highly Islam, like many other religions, venerates martyrdom for it is the martyr who bears witness, and it is the witness who redeems what would otherwise be called failure. Upon reflection, it also highlights the universality of Husain’s fight against unfairness and persecution. Husain’s resistance to the tyranny of Yezid is emblematic of the suffering of all those who live under tyrannical regimes that seek to suppress the human spirit and snuff out every trace of resistance. In the lamentation and mourning over the King of Karbala, the Martyr of Martyrs, the Son of Ali, small, personal, localized griefs are subsumed in the grief for Husain and his clansmen and women.
A huge body of poetic literature has sprung up over the centuries that describes in heart-wrenching detail the events of the Battle of Karbala and the various dramatis personae. For instance, the nineteenth-century Iranian poet Qaani writes:
What is raining? Blood.
Who? The eyes.
How? Day and night.
Why? From grief.
Grief for whom?
Grief for the King of Karbala
North India, especially the qasbahs of Awadh, has produced vast amounts of poetic literature commemorating the events surrounding the martyrdom of Husain. Urdu poets such as Mir Anees, Dabeer, Gauhar Lukhnavi have written a great deal of very poetic and hauntingly evocative elegies, all of which are recited in homes and majlis khanas during Muharram even today, and recall the slaughter of innocents and infants:
Dhal gaya suraj shamma jali, nanha mera Asghar kaha’n gaya re
Bano pukarey kokh jali, nanha mera Asghar kaha’n gayare
The sun has set, the lamp is lit, where is my little Asghar
Poor Bano calls out for her son, where is my little Asghar
Not only is this sort of elegiac poetry suffused with images of the physical sufferings endured by Husain and his hungry, thirsty companions, they highlight the importance of martyrdom in Islam. For instance, here is Shah Abdul Latif writing:
Paradise is their place, overpowering they have gone to Paradise,
They have become annihilated in God, with Him they have
become He…
While the Islamic world, the Shia community in particular, have appropriated the legacy of Husain, the story of his martyrdom is not without global resonance. Husain’s story is the story of all those who have chosen to stand up for their beliefs when others around them have caved in. While Muslims grieve for his death because he was the beloved grandson of the Prophet, his blood that was spilt on the banks of the Euphrates is precious to all mankind because blood shed for a sacred cause is more precious than anything else. Husain’s story finds echoes in the murder of Thomas Becket, the Archbishop of Canterbury, in 1070 or that of Mansoor al-Hallaj, the founder of Sufism and the arch-martyr of mystical Islam, who was cruelly executed in Baghdad in 922 or, for that matter, Dr Martin Luther King who fell to an assassin’s bullet in the American Civil Rights Movement in 1968. It is disconcerting, therefore, that powerful symbols of resistance, such as Husain, should be commemorated only by a particular group of people. For as long as there is tension between positive and negative, good and evil, oppressor and oppressed, believer and non-believer, Husain’s life and martyrdom will continue to be brimful with associations. According to a popular saying in Arabic, ‘Every place is Karbala; every day is Ashura.’ One can only hope that someday, when
the world is bright with consciousness (bedaari), every man will wish to claim Husain:
Insaan ko bedaar to ho lene do
Har qaum pukaregi hamare hain Husain
All across India, come Muharram, the daily rhythm of many Muslim households changes – for the devout it is for forty days until Chehlum, for others until the first ten days. In traditional Shia homes, festivities are shunned, no weddings are planned, even new brides shed bridal finery and take to wearing black, and a cloak of somberness descends. Majlis khanas across the country, such as the one at Jor Bagh in South Delhi and Panja Sharif near Kashmiri Gate in the old city, even today reverberate with the doleful recitation of the marsiya recited in its stylized and time-honoured manner amidst much crying, beating of chests and chanting of ‘Ya Husain, Ya Husain’. By Ashura, the tenth day, the matam or mourning reaches a frenzied climax: processions are taken out, the faithful walk on live coals, flay themselves with chains and whips. Alam, a replica of the standard or pennant carried by Husain’s men in battle, is carried at the head of the procession. The panja, an emblem in the shape of the open palm signifying the panj tan paak, the Five Holy Ones, namely, the Prophet, Fatima (his daughter), Ali (her husband), Hasan and Husain (their sons) – and the taazia - an elaborate construction of paper, tinsel and other finery replicating Husain’s tomb – are included in the procession for ‘burial’ at Karbala. Any city with a sizeable population of Shia Muslims has its own ‘Karbala’ to bury both the annual taazia and serve as a burial ground for Shias. For many the words of the poet still ring true:
Qatl-e-Husain asl mein marg-e-Yazid hai
Islam zinda hota hai har Karbala ke baad
The murder of Husain is actually the death of Yezid
Islam comes back to life after every Karbala
But You Don't Look Like a Muslim Page 16