Nizamuddin Dargah

I'd been wanting to go to Nizamuddin Dargah for a long time--ever since I read about the place in City of Djinns: A Year in Delhi by William Dalrymple (required reading for any traveler to the city). Basically, Nizamuddin Dargah is the hidden shrine of a great Sufi mystic (none other than Mr. Nizamuddin himself) who lived at the turn of the 14th century. According to those in the know (er, William Dalrymple) Nizamuddin was really a swell guy--not one of these I'm-Just-In-It-For-The-Money-And-Hot-Chicks kind of guru--but a true believe in equality, faith, humility, charity and kindness. He took on disciples regardless of social, economic or even religious status and was just all about helping the needy and downtrodden. (Nizamuddin and Mother Theresa probably would have gotten on famously.)

[The faithful, at the golden shrine]

 

 

Anyway, given the aforesaid awesomeness of Nizamuddin, his shrine has become a site of pilgrimage and prayer for Sufis around the world. His shrine of hidden on the back streets of the eponymous neighborhood of Delhi and the alleyways are so narrow that you can't just cruise up in a rickshaw but have to sort of meander around the area until you stumble upon lines of flower-sellers (to be given as offerings at the shrine) and crusty old men yelling at you to take off your shoes, to be deposited and safeguarded by them (for a small fee). As near other shrines, temples and religious place where presumably folks are feeling pious, the streets to Nizamuddin's shrine are sadly lined with crippled, elderly, young and pregnant beggars.

 [The floral offerings are for sale everywhere]

[The alleyways to the shrine are lined with folks selling religious offerings, texts, etc.]

[There is lots of poverty around the shrine. Poor little guy]
 

Of course, you can also just follow the music. The loveliest thing about this lovely shrine is that every Thursday night devotees (and some very intrepid tourists) gather to play and sing qawwalis, Sufi devotional music. Each qawwali lasts for about 10-15 minutes and are so haunting that an otherwise non-believer (such as myself) can find herself swept away by the entrancing harmonies. These songs don't seem to have lyrics, but rather a single phrase (probably something like "God is great") repeated over and over again in varying undulating voices. It's beautiful, mesmerizing and almost trance-like--especially when performed in front of a resplendent shrine for swaying masses of the faithful.

 [The qawwali musicians play and sing in front of a crowd]

[This is the best photo I have of the scene--that's me in the pink to the right]

I actually liked listening to the qawwali at the shrine so much that I brought my family there when they visited last week. I think nobody enjoyed having to take off their shoes and walk on the icy marble temple in 40 degree weather, but if you ask them (and please do!) I suspect they'll tell you it was a pretty magical moment--cold feet be damned.