A pir’s trip back in time

The pir’s (mendicant’s) sombre expression barely masked the glee that only bhang can bring. Insisting that it was spiritual exultation that brought thousands of people to the festival of lights (Mela Chiraghan), he says there used to be hundreds of thousands of people once. “I used to come here as a child back then. I used to pray fervently for my family, for good grades in school, now I pray for hundreds who come to me for blessing,” he says.

There was a time, he explains, when Lahore was home to two of the biggest festivals in the province – Basant and Mela Chiraghan. The streets that lead up to the shrine of Madhu Lal Hussain, where devotees go to pay their respects, are so narrow and winding that there was always the danger of a stampede. In fact, he recounts, mothers would lose their children in the crowds never to see them again...many would die each year.

Lahore used to be lit up like a bride back then. It is, after all, the festival of lights. The festival was a time for relatives to come visit from faraway towns and cities.

“As a child, the mela to me was one big amusement park,” he says. There used to be joy rides and toy stalls back then the same way there are now. The mela was celebrated in the Shalimar Gardens till 1958 when Ayub Khan removed the festival from there to grounds adjacent to the shrine. Back then it was popularly known as Mela Shalamar.

I recalled Sufi Tabassum’s poem, Mela Shalamar Ka, that was one of my primary Urdu textbook readings and it hit me. The poem (which I can still recite to the word) talks about how it was time to leave the fields, all troubles and toils.

Now barely anyone knows about it, says the pir, shaking his head. There was such a massive security threat last year, that very few people visited, even from within the city, he says. Things have picked up this year, but the threat still looms ahead. People are less tolerant of the dervish, the ascetics and mendicants, he says. This is not right.

The baba’s dreadlocks fell past his waist pairing nicely with his matted forked beard he had woven beads through. His orange garb, a tribute to the Madhu Lal Hussain, whose aura, he explains, was yellow-orange. The pir pats my head and says you’re in a newspaper, tell more people about this place. “All prayers are answered, all wishes come true, I’ll pray for you”.

Published in The Express Tribune, April 17^th, 2014.