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Published: November 14th 2008
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Translation:
Hazrat Nizamuddin Dargah I have been trying to form some sort of "routine" for myself and fill up my schedule which seems rather empty as of now. So, usually, I wake up and dress quickly and head down to the street below my house (I live with a guy named Joji who works for the Times of India and I will live with him until the 14th--I now live with my Qawwali Guru until Monday when I move into another house with a woman named Meera and her husband and son). On the street, I order a "small mixed fruit" juice drink which costs 10 rupees (25 cents) and I watch as the fruit-drink-wala puts an assortment of fruits into a juicer and gives me a glass full of fresh juice. (yum!) After drinking it, I sometimes go and buy a Prantha (a veggie filled bread item, again 10 rupees) and eat that happily. I try to fill the rest of my day with music practice, letter writing, novel reading, laundry folding, physical exercise, and anything else that can be somewhat productive.
On Thursdays, I usually go to the Dargah of Nizamuddin in Delhi. After winding my way through "the gauntlet"----a maze of
Smle!
one of the many children at the Dargah shops, peddlers, beggars, and general mayhem all vying for my attention (and money) ----I remove my sandals at the designated area, wash my face, hands, and feet with water, and enter the Dargah itself.
Within the shrine proper, almost everything is marble and almost all of that is covered with bright lights and colorful fabrics. The sheer number of people and the noises, sights, and smells are enough to make someone shrink inside oneself and never come out (not to mention the close physical proximity of everyone and everything). However, it is crucial to open ones mind (and heart) to the culture that is the Nizamuddin Dargah. (Hopefully these pictures will help you understand until I can see you in person and explain, in a speedily and slurred fashion, as was recently pointed out to me, is my style, what this is like. These pictures and video are from this Thursday, while this story is from last Thursday)
After sundowns on Thursdays the Dargah becomes a place of musical worship. The Qawwals begin their entrancing songs to entice all of the listeners into some sort of spiritual state. I cannot begin to describe in mere words on a
Cute
She was rather shy blog what it is like to hear this music. That is why I am studying it--to better understand it myself and to, hopefully, be able to reproduce for others some of the emotions I find in myself when I hear this music.
While at the Dargah, I always wear a topi (a traditional Muslim head covering) so as to be respectful, generally fit in better, and just not standout as much. So last Thursday while at the Dargah, I was sitting and chatting with my friend, and fellow student, Mandy who also enjoys Qawwali and the general Dargah culture. From behind, a man then tapped me on the shoulder and gestured for me to come with him. I tried to resist, not knowing what he wanted, but he was rather insistent that I come with him. He led me into an adjacent area where I realized the final prayers of the day were to take place.
The man quickly figured out that I did not know what to do while in the room of several dozen Muslim men. So, leading me by exaggerated example the entire time, I completed several (I lost count around time number 7) prayer rituals
Devotees
These are my friends....I call them "Dost" (meaning friend) over the course of the next hour.
Prayer ritual-
-Standing, hands crossed right over left resting on lower abdomen
-Bend over and rest upon knees (as in one is tired from physical exercise sort of bend)
-Stand back up
-Kneel down and place ones palms and forehead upon the ground (all the while reciting memorized prayers to oneself)
-Sit up, resting on knees
-Bend over again in traditional Muslim prayer posture
-Sit up, again
-Look to the right, then to the left
-Stand and repeat until the ritual is finished (or in my case, when the people around you leave)
Over the course of this ritual I began to create meaning for it within myself. At first I was silently reciting Catholic prayers ("Our Father", "Hail Mary", "Glory Be"), but then after a while I simply prayed without language to the God, the Spirit, the Being that I felt all around me: In front of me as I bowed and to my right and to my left as I turned my head.
While amidst a group of people I could not easily communicate with, while performing rituals that had no meaning to me besides the fascination of anther's
Flag waver
this man knows me now by face and greets me warmly each time I visit. He carries a large flag and fans people with it culture, I felt one with the people around me and the unseen Essence to which we were all connected.
I have come to India to challenge myself and to better understand who I am and what my relation is with those around me. I hope to see you soon and communicate with you as human beings are meant to communicate: face-to-face. I believe that there is meaning and purpose to every success and every failure. And I know that all I can do, when there is nothing left to do, is to show love to those around me.
I don't know if any of this makes sense to you, or if you even believe what I am writing. I will leave you with a Sufi poem, perhaps it can better explain what I am trying to convey.
Who is man?
The reflection of the Eternal Light.
What is the world?
A wave on the Everlasting Sea.
How could the reflection be cut off from the Light?
How could the wave be separate from the Sea?
Know that this reflection and this wave are that very Light and Sea.
close hold
The beauty at the Dargah extends far beyond the shrine -Jami (15th Century c.e.)
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