Muslim Saints of South Asia: The eleventh to ... - blog blog blog

THE INDIAN TOMB
realized. The form and extent of the dome unfold from the pinnacle
of the dome by movement downwards, gradually expanding, as
the universe emanates from the primordial Existence along the ‘arc
of descent’ (tanāzul); whereas by movement upwards they roll
themselves up, tapering into the point of intersection of the axes at
the pinnacle, which corresponds to mystic ascension along the ‘arc
of ascent’ (taraqqī), from diversity to primordial unity. It is natural
that such integral architectural elements of the tomb as doors
(darwāza), portal (peshtāq) and arcade (aiwān) also had their Sufi
connotations.
It is true that on the territory of the subcontinent we come across
another architectural type of tomb at times – the so-called ‘residential’
tomb, an oblong building with a flat roof without a dome, with
numerous halls and with towers or minarets at the four corners.
‘Residential’ tombs were built mainly on plains, near artificial reservoirs
or on the intersection of axes of specially laid out parks. There
are a lot of such tombs particularly in Punjab, and in recent times
Sikh rulers and subsequently Englishmen also used them as their
residences.
In Christian tradition the mode of behaviour of a pilgrim visiting
a tomb demands reverential silence and outward restraint. In the
Indian dargāhs, on the contrary, deafening noise and animated
movements always reign, as in an Eastern bazaar. Bustle and hubbub
reach their climax at the time of ‘urs, when a special atmosphere
of nervous but nonetheless festive tension, an atmosphere of expectation
of miracle, comes into being in the dargāh. It is absolutely
contrary to the mournful and dismal mood which seizes the visitors
of a Shi‘a Imāmbāra. ‘Urs is an overcoming of physical death, a testimony
of life after life and its meaning consists not in the mourning
for the saint but in the joy from contact with his baraka. That is why
near a tomb you will see neither tears nor hear sorrowful moans –
here you will come across altogether different sounds.
One hears the disturbing roar of ţabla (drums), the long drawn-out
moan of a harmonium, to the accompaniment of which singers,
sitting near the entrance to the tomb, in chorus perform qawwālī,
religious songs in the saint’s honour. Dervishes impetuously scurry
about the place, their long curly hair drifting loose in all directions,
their kulāhs cocked to one side – this is not a tribute to foppery,
although the word kajkulāh (one wearing his cap awry) itself has
acquired the meaning of a fop or dandy. This is a poetic image, which
can be traced back to the h˛adīth ‘I saw my Lord in the form of a
young man with his cap awry’ (Schimmel 1975: 290). 19 Dervishes
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