How the Nizamuddin Dargah has become a Bastion of Patriarchy?
A ‘dargah’ is a shrine built over the grave of a revered Sufi saint or ‘faqeer’. Dargah is a Persian word which literally means a ‘portal’ and Sufis believe the place to be a portal through which one is able to invoke the deceased saint’s intercession or blessing. Flowers and chadars are offered as tokens of respect and layered on the grave which is located in the inner sanctum. People of all faiths visit dargahs where they actively seek spiritual comfort. At some dargahs there are Qawwali sessions held which attract those seeking recreation and leisure. The ‘jaalis’ of the dargahs are crowded with different coloured threads tied by people as a means of making ‘mannats’ which are wishes one wants to be fulfilled coupled with vows one makes after their wishes come true. Dargahs have always accommodated the historical composite culture of the South Asian subcontinent. Moreover, it has also emerged as a form of escape for Muslims from the burdens of strict Sharia and for Hindus from endemic casteism. Dargahs are the manifestations of the Sufi principle ‘Sulh-i-kul’, or ‘peace to all’, and thus they are a core part of Sufism.
Our project focuses on what is called the nerve centre of India’s Sufi culture, the Nizamuddin Dargah. Being the final abode of Nizamuddin Auliya, one of the most revered Sufi saints of the subcontinent and his disciple, Amir Khusrau, it is one of the most visited places in Delhi. Qawwali, as one of the most prominent Chishtiya Sufi practices, is held at the dargah’s entrance to celebrate ‘Urs’ of the Qawwali’s creator himself, Amir Khusrau. The space has acted as a point of convergence for people of all religions, classes, castes and genders for about 700 years.
However, over the years the Nizamuddin Dargah has emerged as a bastion of patriarchy. Our project aims to explore how some exclusionary practices assist in reinforcing gender hierarchies. One of these is the restriction of women from the dargah’s sanctum sanctorum, which is the place where saint’s grave is present. Reasons for placing such restrictions range from those that are discussed in academic discourses like the concept of ‘ikhtilat’ to those which are based on pure idiocy. An example of the latter is that women must not come near graves for the dead can see them naked (Dhingra). ‘Ikhtilat’ refers to the mixing of the two genders in Islam, but the extent to which it applies to public and sacred spaces is heavily debated. This subject has gained more importance in academia, especially after feminist notions have gained prominence in popular discourse. People argue that in the holiest of Islamic places, Makkah, both genders come together to pray in a shared space and the gender disparity is almost non-existent. Then, the question arises as to why mosques and dargahs in other areas refuse to follow the same policies. Another reason posed for limiting women’s access to more sacred spaces stems from the misconception about concept of ‘purity’ and menstruation in Islam. Word used for menstruation in the Quran (2:222) is ‘adan’ which means hurtful. Thus, it has nothing to do with pollution or contamination. Limiting women’s behaviour on this ground instigates feelings of inferiority as they are made to think that if they step in a sacred area while on their period, it will somehow be contaminated.
Absurdity of these discriminatory practices being executed in dargahs, of all places, becomes more obvious when we look at the history of Sufism. Legend has it that the saint buried in Nizamuddin Dargah, Amir Khusrau, dressed as a woman to amuse his master (Sharma). One finds clear feminine expressions while studying ‘sufi tadhkirah’ or hagiography. For example, Bulleh Shah danced with ‘ghungroo’ for his master, Shah Inayat. ‘Ghungroo’ are musical anklets that mostly women used to wear while performing. Moreover, the ‘Urs’ festival in Sufism signifies the marriage of Divine (groom) with a Sufi (bride). Patriarchal forces have proven to be powerful enough to stifle femininity in the same spaces where these Sufi saints have been buried. We also attempt to find whether these practices are dictated by religion or reflect only the mindset of the dargah’s administration.
To shed light on subordination of women, our project not only focuses on the daily affairs of the dargah but also on the festival of ‘Sufi Basant’ that takes place there annually. One might suppose that on special occasions these restrictions on women’s access might be lifted, but our research leads to diametrically opposite conclusions. The story of this festival goes back to a grieving Nizamuddin who had lost his nephew. Amir Khusrau saw a group of singing women who were arrayed in bright yellow garments for the occasion of Basant. Khusrau, then, dressed up in the same clothes and went dancing to his grieving master in the hopes to make him smile. Thus, Sufis celebrate Basant to commemorate the smile that followed.
As discussed above, Sufism’s main attraction has always been its inclusive structure. Dargahs becoming a target of hegemonic masculinity is a matter of concern as it will lead to nothing but tainting Sufism’s all-embracing image. Some may regard the issues we address as notional, but notions and ideologies are the roots of the societal values and norms. Thus, our project can be considered as a step towards the ideological shift needed to construct equal spaces for women. It may lead to women re-establishing their access to other public spheres of life too. Similar patriarchal restrictions at Haji Ali Dargah, Mumbai, were challenged by feminists in 2016 and the Supreme Court of India ruled in their favour; we hope the same fate awaits the Nizamuddin Dargah too (The Hindu). Our project aims to illustrate these misogynistic practices through the following visuals and attempts to further stir up this discourse encouraging female emancipation.