Sindhi Sufi Poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai

[swamidada2]

The Eternal Love of Sassi Punnu

By Mahlia Lone

The lyrical folk tale of Sassi Punnu does not merely tell the tragic tale of two lovers but also speaks of the lilting romance of the River Indus, the resounding echo of the arid Baluch mountains, the dry, hot, sandy air wafting in the Thar Desert and the pleasing fragrance of the city of Bhambhor as described by Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai, the 18th century Sindhi Sufi poet, scholar, mystic and saint in his poetic compilation Shah jo Risalo. The story of Sassi Punnu is the most famous of the seven tragic Sindhi romances that Shah Latif immortalized in his work. In keeping with Sufi tradition, he penned the tales not just as earthly love affairs but as examples of eternal love and divine union. Having lived during the golden age of Sindhi culture, Latif is considered to be the greatest Muslim poet of the Sindhi language. In fact, Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Professor of Islamic studies at George Washington University, called Shah Latif “(the) direct emanation of (the Persian poet) Rumi’s spirituality in South Asia”


As with all folk tales, there are many versions of this romance. This version has been adapted from the tale written by Shafi Aqeel in his book Pakistan kee Lok Dastanain (The Folk Tales of Pakistan) by Professor Muhammad Sheeraz Dasti, a lecturer at IIU in Islamabad and the University of Colorado at Boulder.

During Raja Dilu Rai’s rule in 11th century AD in Sindh, in Brahminabad on the bank of Bhambhor Canal near Gharo district, Thatta lived a Hindu Raja called Tania with his wife Mandhar who were childless. Desperate for a son, they visited temples, presented offerings and supplicated pundits, pujaris, yogis and faqeers for their blessings. Finally, one day the couple was fortunate enough to have a baby girl. Though they had prayed for a son, they rejoiced at the birth of their beautiful baby. As per Brahmin traditions, the parents went to an astrologer to foresee their daughter’s future. The astrologer carefully studied the birth-chart, made planetary calculations, and in a portentous manner declared that their daughter would bring disgrace to their royal house by marrying a Muslim boy.

The strict Brahmin couple was devastated. But they couldn’t kill their precious baby. For the sake of family honour and their upper caste status, they made a difficult decision. They put their baby daughter in a wooden box and, early one morning when it was still dark, floated it on to the River Indus, hoping she would be rescued by a kind soul.

By afternoon, the box floated into the dhobi ghaat (riverside laundry) of Bhambhor, a busy trading city at that time. The laundry owner Atta was a prosperous businessman employingscores of washermen serving the entire town. Atta and his wife too were childless and had made pilgrimages to the shrines of saints, dervishes and Sufis, donated charity and fed the hungry in the hopes of being blessed with a child.

The box was fished out of the river and a beautiful baby girl, sucking her right thumb, was found inside. The washerman took it to Atta. As soon as he looked inside the box, the baby smiled at him. Atta was instantaneously smitten; he picked her up, hugged her and took her home to his wife.

“Look, God has given us a daughter, bright and beautiful as the moon,” he announced happily. His wife was equally thrilled. They named their adorable newly adopted daughter, Sassi, the moon.

Sassi was raised in the lap of luxury. Atta spared no expense to bring her up. She was cosseted and petted as the only child of a prosperous dhobi. Sassi grew up to be absolutely beautiful.

Proud of his daughter who had a regal mien, the dhobi built a splendid new mansion teamed with maid servants to do her every bidding. Artisans decorated the interior with colourful tiles imported all the way from Central Asia. In Sassi’s bedroom a mural depicted the legendary Arab tale of Qais and Laila. Hence, she dreamt of love and romance whether sleeping or awake. Horticulturists and landscapers cultivated the garden with fruit trees, both indigenous and exotic as well as colourful fragrant flowers. She daily roamed her garden like the princess she was and distributed alms amongst the needy as a sweet, charitable girl. Soon Sassi’s fame spread far and wide.

Bhambhor lay on the route to various mercantile cities. Caravans from far off areas camped here to sell goods and restock. Atta owned a camping site behind his garden where he welcomed the travelers since the business they brought was welcome to the town. Occasionally, the lucky amongst them enjoyed the relaxing garden and even got to feast their eyes on the nubile Sassi. Tales of her beauty the foreign traders took back with them wherever they went.

One day, a caravan from Kech Makran camped there and some of the travelers chanced upon Sassi roaming blissfully unaware in her garden. On their return to Kech Makran, a mirasi (folk singer) related the tale of “drinking from the flood of (her) beauty.”

“Sassi is the prettiest of all girls in the world. Oh prince, she is absolutely matchless. She is a fairy from Koh Kaaf. Her eyes are deeper than oceans on the earth, her cheeks are brighter than stars in the sky, her voice is sweeter than the cuckoos in the jungles. Whoever sees her smiling loses heart to her,” he described the teenager reverently.

Punnu became agog to see the famous beauty for himself. “Think of the best plan to reach the famous beauty of Bhambhor. Let me know of your advice by tomorrow,” he told his advisors to concoct a plan for him to be able to see the beauty for himself.

One advisor devised a plan that the prince could not only see but interact with the well guarded Muslim girl: “A caravan should take a variety of perfumes to Bhambhor and you should go along with it as a musk trader.”

Punnu got permission from his father, the Raja Aari Jam, to travel incognito. He put together a caravan carrying exotic imported perfumes that would tempt a fine lady to acquire. As the caravan of the perfume sellers reached Bhambhor, the whole city was bathed in the fragrance of its wares. Even Sassi heard that a handsome trader called Punnu had arrived from Kech Makran hawking special perfumes.

All the Bhambhor residents and merchants from neighbouring areas flocked to where Punnu’s caravan had set up shop. Leaving the business of selling to the rest of the traders, Punnu kept his eyes peeled towards the entrance of the camp throughout the day waiting for a glimpse of the fair Sassi.

Finally, in the afternoon, accompanied by her friends, Sassi visited the site on a shopping expedition. As soon as Punnu spotted Sassi amidst her friends, he knew she was The One. She was far more beautiful than his imagination had pictured. In her turn, Sassi as she dealt with the trader, the Prince in disguise also fell in love with him at first sight.

“Back home, Sassi discovered that Punnu was now in her veins. He was everywhere: in the air, on flowers, in the mirror, on her tongue. She could not like anything, experienced a strange restlessness in sitting, discomfort in sleeping, unease in walking. She didn’t know how to describe this self, this no self. Had no idea of how to cure herself, not sure if she really wanted to cure herself of the sweetness of pain. Finally, she sought her best friend’s council. ‘I love the young musk trader. Think of some way that he is mine—mine forever.’”

A guileless female always confides tales of her love to her best friend who tries to help her win in the game of love. Likewise Sassi confided to her best friend who went to Punnu to guage his intentions. He readily admitted that that the sole aim of his life was to attain Sassi. Then, she went to convince Sassi’s parents to marry her to the young man. “Sassi is unable to live without him. And I must tell you, Punnu isn’t an ordinary man. He is the prince of his tribe in Kech Makran, and is the handsomest of men,” argued the girl earnestly.

But Atta would have none of it. He replied, “Punnu is a traveler. We know nothing about his caste and family. How can we give our beautiful daughter’s hand to a stranger? She will marry someone from our own fraternity, a dhobi,”

Sassi’s friend thought on her feet, “Actually, I have heard that Punnu too belongs to a tribe of dhobis, they only trade in perfumes. You can ask him to wash some clothes as a test.”

So Atta agreed to invite him to their house. Punnu, a prince in reality, went over pretending to be a laundryman. Atta bid him to wash a sack full of clothes to test his veracity.

At the time, clothes in the Subcontinent were washed by beating them on a stone at the edge of a water body. Prince Punnu beat the clothes against rocks besides the mighty gushing Indus River, hurting his hands and tearing the clothes. When Sassi got to know that he had torn most of the clothes were torn, she told her friend to carry a message:

“Tell Punnu to fold the clothes and place a coin of gold in every torn piece. The people of my town will be happy to see gold and won’t complain to my father.”

Punnu folded gold coins in the folds of the clothes. The townspeople demurred and Atta gave his permission reluctantly. He made Punnu promise that he would not take away his only daughter but would take up residence with them in Bhambhor after his wedding to Sassi. Punnu readily agreed.

Punnu’s brothers and friends came from Kech Makran for the wedding. Atta threw an extravagant and magnificent celebration in honour of his only daughter’s wedding.

While they were enjoying Atta’s gracious hospitality, Punnu’s brothers urged him to return to Kech Makran where their father was waiting for him, but Punnu refused to leave his ladylove’s side. When he wouldn’t budge, they returned home without him.

Upon reaching Kech Makran, brother Chunru told this to their father Aari Jam. Punnu, being his youngest son, was the baby of the family. Their handsome prince abandoning his life in the palace for the life of a dhobi, it was unthinkable! His parents wanted their bewitched son back at all costs.

Aari sent a messenger to tell him to immediately return. The messenger tracked down Punnu washing clothes sitting at the dhobi ghaat with other dhobis. “My Lord, this job is beneath your dignity. You are our prince. Come back to home and lead a life that suits your stature,” he said.

“Go back and tell my father and brothers to forget me. I will never be able to go away from here. My home is where my Sassi lives,” the erstwhile prince replied.

The messenger explained how worried his father was, and how the Prince had lowered himself to the level of an ordinary worker by washing clothes. But when Punnu paid no heed.

Aari Jam was so upset when he heard his messenger’s account that he felt dizzy and fell unconscious with worry. Seeing their father sicken, Punnu’s brothers, Chunru, Hoti and Noti put their heads together.

“We must do something to save our father from this agony,” said Hoti, the eldest. “I can’t see him suffer anymore.”

“Yes, we must bring Punnu back to Kech Makran, no matter what price we have to pay,” said Noti.

The brothers strode swift camels and rode toward Bhambhor to bring their brother back in any way possible.

Not being aware of their true design, Punnu and Sassi were thrilled that his brothers had finely accepted his marriage and were visiting them.

Nightly they laid out grand feasts and entertainment for them with mehfil (gathering) of singing, dancing and drinking. Hoti, Noti and Chunru bided their time. First they tried to convince Punnu to return by telling him how their father suffered, how sick he had become pining for him, “If you don’t come back soon, our father will no longer be alive.”

Punnu said categorically that he would never return.

One night, Chunru, Hoti and Noti did not get drunk but let Punnu have his fill and pass out. As Sassi kept waiting for Punnu in their bedroom, she applied henna to her left hand. She eventually fell asleep with the henna stick in her hand. The stick was to be planted in soil in the morning according to the custom in those days.

As soon as Punnu passed out, his brothers picked him up and flung him across a camel’s back. They quickly and quietly left for Kech Makran without disturbing the sleeping household.

In the morning, Sassi woke up to find herself alone in bed. Punnu was nowhere to be found. “My Punnu has been abducted by his brothers. They have deceived me,” she shrieked.

Devastated at her loss, she dashed out without even putting on her shoes, wailing his name. Her parents and the servants ran after her.

“Where is my Punnu?” She kept repeating inconsolably. “I’ll find him. I will find him.”

Threatening to kill herself if they stopped her, Sassi ran towards the jungle outside Bhambhor. Her parents and servants followed her but they lost track of her when twilight fell in the thick jungle. Sassi ran madly crossing the jungle, over the barren land, sandy dessert and craggy mountains. Her feet got cut over the thorns, branches, rocks and hot sand, but she didn’t even notice.

All are enemies, camels, camel men and brother in laws,

Fourth enemy is wind that removed the foot prints of Punnun,

Fifth enemy is sun which delayed its setting,

Sixth enemy is sky which did not make travel easy,

Seventh enemy is moon which did not shine longer

(Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai, as translated by Muhammad Sheeraz Dasti)

Sassi walked another few miles before her blistered and bleeding feet became too sore and painful to walk on. She had reached the Harho mountain range where she was spotted by a shepherd from a distance. “Where is my Punnu? Have you seen my Punnu?” Sassi asked the uncivilized goatherd.

The lascivious man sought to take advantage. “You are searching for one Punnu? In this world everyone is a Punnu for you. I am Punnu for you. My father, my grandfather, my seven generations are Punnu for you. My sheep, my donkey, all the animals are Punnu for you.” He flung himself on her, desirous of raping her and fulfilling his baser animal urges.

“O merciless man, I am dying of thirst and you assault me. Fear Allah and get me something to drink,” Sassi begged him.

As the shepherd relented enough to get her some milk from his goats, Sassi beseeched Allah to order the ground to open and swallow her up. “O Almighty, the One who listens to the helpless, help me out in this moment of trouble. I am Punnu’s trust. Protect my honor from the wickedness of this shepherd. You and only You can hear me in this barren land!”She moaned with tears streaming down her face.

Her prayer was heard.

Suddenly the ground beneath her shook and split open. The crevice widened to engulf her into its protection and closed over her again, leaving only the border of her duppatta as a trace above ground. The shepherd got so scared to witness this miracle that he fell in a sajda and begged forgiveness from Allah.

To atone for his sin, he became the caretaker of Sassi’s grave. To mark it, he placed stones around where the spot where she had disappeared into the ground and built a small hut for himself nearby.

Meanwhile, the brothers had reached Kech Makran without incident. Punnu didn’t get a chance to escape because they had tied him to the back of a camel.

Punnu kept protesting, “I won’t go to Makran. Leave me here. I have to go back to my wife, my love. Don’t try to separate us, you can’t do that,” but they were adamant.

Though his old sick father Aari Jam felt so happy to finally see him home, Punnu didn’t care and said, “Release me. Let me go to my Sassi. She would be worried. She will die without me. I have to go to Sassi. I have to go to Sassi. Please release me.”

After failing to convince him, Aari Jam, a wise, thoughtful man, feared Punnu might harm himself if they didn’t relent. Eventually, he sent for his elder sons and told them, “Take him back to Bhambhor and bring both Punnu and Sassi here. He can’t live without his woman, and we can’t see him in this condition.”

Lying to Punnu that they were going to leave him to live with Sassi in Bhambhor, the brothers prepared for their journey.

Aari told them, “Bring Sassi to Kech Makran at any cost, and come back at your earliest possible. We’ll live to see the woman, who thieved a beautiful chamber of our heart.”

“Don’t worry, father. We’ll follow your wish and wisdom,” chorused all three in unison.

Punnu was desperate to get back as soon as possible. “Had he got wings, he would have flown to her. Since the time they had separated him from his Sassi, Punnu behaved like a stranger.”

When they reached the spot where Sassi had been “veiled under the earth,” Punnu’s sixth sense averted him. Pulling the reins of his camel, he looked around to detect her by now tattered dupatta border peeping out from the ground surrounded by stones. What was Sassi’s dupatta doing her and why did he feel her presence? He saw the shepherd squatting down on his haunches at the entrance of a nearby hut and asked him politely “Whose grave is this?” He had an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach that he already knew the answer to his own question.

The shepherd burst out crying and sobbed, “She is the devoted lover of someone called Punnu. She was running about madly, calling out his name. and took refuge here in this rock.”
His worst fears had come true. He fell down on his knees and folding his hands together in supplication offered Fateha for his beloved Sassi casting his streaming eyes upwards. “O You the Creator of love and of the lovers, O the Greatest Healer of the injured souls, send me to where Sassi is, to where Love is,” he prayed to God.

All afternoon he repeated his prayer. Finally, in answer, the ground shook again, the rock split open and Punnu hurriedly fell in calling out Sassi’s name. The rock closed behind him, reuniting the lovers that no one again could put asunder.

Punnu’s brothers stood stock still terrified. The shepherd dissolved in tears; he was now the custodian of a single grave of the two lovers, and the tale of their miraculous and divine love. The brothers realized how wrong they had been to try to come between a love sanctioned by Allah; how grave a sin they had committed in their shallow, earthly considerations. After pondering over their grave mistake, they recited a Fateha for the lovers and, with a heavy heart, departed for Kech Makran.

Sassi Punnu’s alleged grave is located near Lasbela, 45 miles away in the Pub range to the west of Karachi. Haji Muhammad, an affluent resident of the area, constructed a simple mausoleum in 1980, which is visited by those from near and far. Ruins of Punnu’s fort are likewise located in Turbat.

[swamidada2]

Seeking the Beloved- In the spirit of Shah Abdul Latif
Sarfaraz Mulla

It is exhilarating to know that in these troubled times for Muslims, Sufi scholars of yesteryear are distinctly revered by people of all communities, faiths & sects. Gyaan Adab organized a book reading session by Author Anju Makhija, of her book of poetry. This book is an English translation of Shah Abdul Latif sur ( or couplets) from the Sindhi language .
Shah Latif, a mystic & poet from erstwhile Sindh, that extended from Sindh in Pakistan to Kacch in present India. Shah Latif of Bhittai, a place in Sindh were his mausoleum is built, wandered these areas during his lifetime in the quest of God. His followers now are pastoral nomads are rendering his tradition with folk tales, poems & recitals of his couplets .
So what is that Sufi’s spoke about that still reverberates with current generation?
Well, its imperative with all the references to wine, love & the beloved it was about annihilation of self/ ego, sacrificing the self for the love of Allah ( beloved). More we see engulfed in the wars, fueled by greed, over-consumption & urge to have more couplets of Shah Latif make immediate sense :

Their ego the ascetics have killed,
They wish their unity with God to be fulfilled .

Or if we were to contrast that with the lives of new age godmen in the modern era, who roam around in private jets, carry their own cavalcade of personal body-guards & enjoy a luxurious life, to them Shah sahab said :

Those jogis who treasure Food and cloth for their pleasure,
From them God will stay Still farther and away .

Sufi’s spoke of universal love & brotherhood and their teachings transcended through different religions . For them being “Good” was more important without attaching strings of religion. In short they loved humanity & so does humanity still loves them .
As you would have understood by now, they spoke the universal language of Love for all.
An important theme of Sufi poets of subcontinent, has been their emphasis on correcting the inner spiritual self & purifying it from within :

Faith does not in that direction lie that the Kalima you day and night cry,
Your heart is imprisoned in falsehood With Islam you mask your face Within, many idols hold their place?

What are you waiting for ?
The inherent qualities of spiritual masters has always been, once the inspiration strikes, to go out & seek their true love , i.e. God or as Shah Latif said :

Do not care about hot or cold weather,
Do not think about rest,
You should push forward without wasting your time because if you become late,
darkness will spread all around and you will not be able to see the footprints of your beloved .

[swamidada2]

MU(N)H MEIN AAHEE(N) TU(N) AJRO QALB MEIN KAARO
BAHRAA(N) ZEB ZABAAN SEIN DIL MEIN HAAN(N)JHARO
UNN PER VECHAARO WEJHO NAAHEY WASAL SEIN

With a face brighter than a mirror but heart so black
An unimpeded tongue outwardly but sinful inside
Such a wretched person have no union with the beloved

ASHIQ 'AZAZEEL BHIYA MIRRYOI SADHRIYA
MUNJHA(N) SIKK SABEEL LA'NATI LAAL THIO

Azazeel (satan) was a true lover, other lovers only wished
Due to his extreme love he was condemned

THIYA RASEELA RAHMAN SEIN SAGHAR SU(N)HEEN JEY
AAIYU(N) TINEEN KHEY VADHAYU(N) WISAAL JUU(N)

Those who could find the right path have joined Lord
They deserve mubarakbad for their union with Him

DHINEY DHIKHOYA AN(N) DHINEY RAAZI THIYA
SUFI SEY THIYA KEEN KHAYAU(N) PAAN(N) SEIN

They are distressed if something (worldly) is offered to them, and are pleased if nothing is offered
They have become sufis (ascetics) by carrying no desire with them

JO TU(N) DHOREI(N) DHUUR SO SADA AAHEY SAAN(N) TU(N)
LAALAN LAI LATIF CHAVEY MUNJH HEE MA'ZUUR
MUNJHA(N) PAVEY PARUUR TOU MUNJH AAHEES TAKYO

Whom you are searching so far, He is always with you
O you imbecile, says Latif, look for beloved within
You will come to know His abode is within you

[swamidada]

JA BARAAD BATAN JI SA U(N)JH BUKH ADESEEN
ROZA RIND RAKHAN EID NA ODHAA KAAPARI

Hunger and thirst is like a feast for Ascetics
They keep fasts but never celebrate Eid

MUU(N) KHAHORI LIKHYA SUMHAN KEEN PAEI
SEER KAYAAU(N) SU(N)JH MEI(N) DHURI DHATH LAHI
VIYA UUTT WAHI JITT NIHAAYAT NAAH KAA

I have seen wanderers (ascetics) who do not sleep
They wandered in wilderness acquired ascetic knowledge
They happened to wander there, where there is nothing except nothingness

PAAN(N) PAHER DU PAAN(N) KHEY TALIB SUN(N)JH TU(N)
NAKA HAA(N) NA HUU(N) PARDA SUBB PAASEY THIYA

O seeker listen, egoism acts as a casing against you
Preclude all ego and arguments, all the veils then be removed

KHAHUREIN KHAFI SEE(N) SUJHEY LADDO SUBHAAN
AASHIQ AHREY AKHRIYAN LUNGHIYA LA MAKAAN
HU MEI(N) GHADHJI HU THIYA BABU JE BHARBAN(N)
SUBBOI SUBHAAN AAYO NAZAR ATHAN JE

The ascetic seekers sought the Lord through secret devotion
This way the lovers passed through a space less place
Those ascetics who roasted themselves in love
United with beloved, They saw the Lord's manifestations every where

[kmaherali]

United with beloved, They saw the Lord's manifestations every where

Indeed they attained the goal of life and everywhere there is Light.

ejee sab ghatt ekaj rahemaan dise,

to shaane shaane shaan...ab to...............................3

In every heart One Lord appears,

Its glory's Glorious Glow.

http://ismaili.net/heritage/node/22791

[swamidada]

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Thursday, September 10th 2020

These glimpses of poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai’s work shows his greatness cannot be grasped fully
‘I Saw Myself’ features new translations of the Sindhi Sufi poet’s works by Shabnam Virmani and Vipul Rikhi.

Kabir says the well is one
Water bearers many
Their pots are of different shapes
But the water in them in one
Kabir

I thought the path was one
But there were a thousand million
Whoever took whichever one
Made it across the ocean
Mekan Dada

One palace, one million doors
Countless windows in between
From wherever I took
The Beloved is before me
Shah Abdul Latif

The beauty of language, the inwardness of the translation, in the three verses above tell us of the many journeys pursuers-translators have made. It exemplifies not only the continuity of syncretic thought but also a co-habitation of different regions (through Kabir from north India, Mekan Dada from Kutch, Shah Abdul Latif from Sindh) that refuse to stay fixed.

In my mind Shah Abdul Latif collapses with an unforgettable visual I remember from my visit to Jerusalem. After days of witnessing the hostile intimacy with which the Jewish, Christian and Muslim sides in East Jerusalem cohabited, I encountered a view through a glass window that overlooked the structures of all three religions, but was divided and distorted in the window frame. What that brought home was how no narrative is available in the singular; that choosing one over others is possible only through a manipulated vision. Between the villages of Kutch on the Indian side of the border and those in Tharparker across the international boundary resonate with the voice Shah Abdul Latif.

A passion project
As I hold I Saw Myself : Journeys with Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai, it’s difficult not to feel somewhat infected by the passion that must have accompanied Shabnam Virmani and Vipul Rikhi when they undertook the project. Each time I say “project” in such a context I am reminded of Farid Ayaz’s words to Virmani recorded in the film Had-Anhad, “Isko zindagi ka project banayein.” And that’s exactly what Kabir and now Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai are – life projects.

And just as we don’t live life alone, this book is also not alone, with a single author or translator, but one that gives a sense of collectivity in its approach and design. Mine and not mine, as Gandhi said of Hind Swaraj. After the enormous value that the Shabnam Virmani-led Kabir project brought to our understanding of the continued relevance of Kabir and his multiple lives in parts of India and Pakistan, enhanced further by the impeccable translations of Linda Hess, we now have with us a new voice and new collection.

This voice is not from the heart of India, but from its frontiers, parts of which are in Pakistan and parts, in Rajasthan and Gujarat. The book is more a journey than a final and comprehensive compendium to the Sindhi Risalo by Shah Abdul Latif. It has verses from the previous compilations, in addition to ones that Virmani and Rikhi hear as a part of the oral tradition in Kutch. In that sense this is an unusual, almost quirky book in that it mimics, despite being textual, the spontaneity of an oral tradition.

A daily presence
The name of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai is not unknown anymore to those who follow Sufi thought and music even in the most rudimentary manner. Details of Shah Abdul Latif’s life and the arrangement of the Risalo in surs and dastans, and the forms of bayt and wai, are too well known and accessible to bear repetition here. Equally well-known and recorded are the influences of Rumi and of the Quran, of the yogis and of Vedic learning.

These acquire different emphases depending upon ideological positions of the commentators. The stories of Moomal and Rano, of Noori and Jam Tamachi, are dispersed across the western region – Junagadh, Jaiselmer, Barmer, Thar, and Hinglaj. The singing is found in the repertoires of Abida Parveen, Allam Faqir, and Coke Studio.

In Sindh and Banni (Kutch) no conversation of any kind, literally, is possible without someone quoting a bayt from the Risalo. It is so common to hear, “Shah saab chayo aa..” and then a verse that can explain anything from the absence of rain to the betrayal of a lover, from the names of plants to the dilemmas of a spiritual life.

I remember hearing this about an aspiring politician: “andar vihareen kaunv, baaher boli hunj jee,” which means, “with a crow inside you, you speak the language of a swan” and that should give us a gist of the universality of Latif’s themes. But Latif is essentially and firstly a Sufi, who believes in an austere life, a meagre existence and retreat inside. Given below is a famous verse with my rendering in Hindi:

chup kar, chap-a-ma chore,
poore akhyoon dhuka kana
rah udhooru un
ta who moorat
munjharaan man
tunhijo mushahido maneean

chup kar, hoth na hila
aankhe bandh, kaan bandh
paani pee, pet na bhar
kha anaaj bas thoda sa
taaki woh murat ubhar aaye
jo basi tumhare andar

This life of austerity is not without yearning for a beloved, until the lover and the beloved are experienced as one. Words like “pirin” and “supreen” in the Risalo evoke references to friendships and nations of soulmates. Here’s one more verse, again in Hindi.

shukr hai jo mile
jeete dino mein yaar se
baithe jinke pahlu mein
mile hame kitna qaraar
maalik na karna juda
iss pirin ki pados se

or this,

Sufi ne saaf kiya
thoya panna vajood ka
phir jua iss kaabil
dikhi jhalak yaar ki

A presence across communities
When Sassui looks for Punhoon only to realise that she has become Punhoon herself, or when Marvi longs for her homeland Malir, Sufism ceases to be an inaccessible form – it acquires in the popular imagination stories of love, wisdom, politics that co-exist with the mystical. This combination makes Shah Sahib very unusual and explains his presence across different communities.

Amena Khamisiani, one of the translators of Risalo mentions how “the peasant ploughing his field, the herdsman and the shepherd tending to the herd of cattle or flock of sheep, the fisherman casting his fishing net in the water, the village housewife at her daily chores and the villager amidst his companions at leisure time, sings, recites, or hears this poetry...”

Another translator mentions how his father, a bus conductor, gave him the Risalo, saying in Siraiki, “...aba hi wada kitab tedi wadi madad karesi (my son, this great book will help you greatly).” It is a different and crucial matter that Shah sahib himself was a Syed and one may argue that his lineage leaves a caste-blind mark on the Risalo.

Recent scholarship by Sufi Hussain draws attention to this phenomenon, and there is no reason why a new assessment of this iconic figure should not take place. My own knowledge of the Risalo is built through memories and versions of people and a textual tradition starting from Ernest Trumpp to HT Sorley, from Elsa Kazi to Kalyan Advani, from Christopher Shackle to Annemarie Schimmel and, now, to Virmani and Rikhi. These are mere glimpses, but we need to be humble and reconcile with the fact that greatness is not graspable fully.

https://scroll.in/article/947358/these- ... sped-fully

[swamidada]

277th Urs celebrations of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai commence in Bhitshah
22 hours ago

BHITSHAH: 02, OCTOBER, 2020: The 277th Urs celebrations of great Sufi Saint Hazrat Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai will commence in Bhitshah, Sindh province from today (Friday) with enthusiasm and religious fervour.As per sources, the three-day ceremony of the Urs will be started with poetry marathons, literature conferences, and other activities to celebrate the poetry of the sufi saint.The vast numbers of devotees of the Sufi shrine are arriving in Bhitshah to attend the 277th Urs of great poet of Sindh.Strict security measures have been taken in this regard to avoid any untoward incident. CCTV cameras have been installed while devotees will enter the shrine after passing walkthrough gates placed at all entry points. Thousands of police officials along with Pakistan Rangers personnel will perform security duties on the occasion.The Sindh government had announced a public holiday today (October 2) to commemorate the 277th Urs of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai. A notification had been issued by the Sindh administrative department in this regard.According to a notification, signed by the Sindh chief secretary, all offices, autonomous and semi-autonomous bodies, corporations and local councils falling under the Sindh government, except essential services, will remain closed on the 2nd of October. Educational institutes will also be closed to mark the Urs of the saint.

https://onlineindus.com/english/277th-U ... shah/40964

[kmaherali]

Qalu Balaa | Life and Poetry of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai | Episode 2

Video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZ5t2FHEiO0

In this session, Alwaez Akbar Huda and Alwaez Yusuf Noorani explore the soulful poetry of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai and take us through his enriching life journey.

[swamidada]

Elsa Kazi

By: Ali Ahmed K Brohi

Mrs. Allama Kazi who called by all as Mother Elsa Kazi,
was a remarkable woman indeed. She was German by birth,
but a Sindhi by spirit and God had bestowed upon her the
grace of being one of the greatest poets of her time. She was
not only a poet of very high caliber, but painter of great
distinction, besides she was a writer of repute,
she wrote one act plays, short stories, plays, novels and history.
She was acomposer and a musician of considerable attainments.
Indeed, there was hardly any conspicuous branch of Fine Arts that
she did not practice to perfection. Although she did not know
Sindhi language directly but still she managed to produce
translation in English verse of the selected verses of Shah
Abdul Latif after the pith and substance of the meaning of
those verses were explained to her by Allama Kazi. She has
successfully couched the substance of those verses in a
remarkable poetical setting which, in musical terms, reflects
the echo of the original Sindhi metrical structure and
expression in which Latif had cast them. Her's remains the
best translation so far in English of Shah Abdul Latif's
Shah-jo-Risalo

Elsa Kazi (Elsa Gertrude Loesch) was born in 'Rudel Stadt' a
small village in Germany on 3rd October, 1884, in the house of
a great musician, who ultimately migrated to Dulwich
London. She was a daughter of prosperous German Eldermn.
He had property in London which was destroyed in world
War-II. After war, compensation was paid to her in respect of
such property. Her paintings are often seen in many
distinguished family homes. She also painted the famous
courtesan queen of Khairpur Mirs, “Bali”.
It was in London that she met Allama I.I. Kazi, just by sheer
chance. It so happened, that once Allama Kazi, having arrived
at a railway station, just in time, while the train had already
started moving. He was however able to board in, in the last
compartment which was empty, excepting a solitary young
lady occupying a corner quarter. Reared in a traditional family
background of saints & sages, Mr. Kazi felt very much
embarrassed and kept standing near the door with his back to
the lady. Elsa was amazed, astonished and amused to meet a
man, who would not take seat, despite repeated offers and
would only repeat apologies. For a man who was so innocent
chaste and interesting, she sought his address and thus
developed a life long association. The couple was married in
Germany in 1910 A.D.
The fate had so ordained that a Sindhi scholar should get
joined in wedlock with a German poetess, to make a versatile
couple of scholarly eminence. The couple lived in London from
1911 to 1919, and occasionally came on short visit to Sindh.
Altogether, the couple spent 30 years of life in England,
during which they remained engaged in research, tracing the
evolution of religion through the ages up to the advent of
Islam. Both of them contributed numerous essays, articles
and addresses in various vital branches of modern knowledge,
beside preaching Islam under the aegis of Jamiatul
Muslimeen. In the year 1919, the couple returned to Sindh,
and Kazi Sahib first entered Government Judiciary Service on
deputation. After two years stay, because of some difference
with His Highness Mir Ali Nawaz of Khairpur, he resigned
and the couple left for London.
The couple continued propagation of Islam in London till
April 1951, when Allama was offered the post of
Vice Chancellorships of University of Sindh, they returned to Pakistan.

Some translations of Shah-jo-Risalo in Verse By Elsa Kazi.

SUR KALYAAN(N)
1
The One Creator, the all greats;
Lord of the universe
The living, the original;
Ruler with power innate;
The giver, the sustainer,
the unique , compassionate;
This master praise, to Him alone
thyself in praise prostrate..
The generous, who does create
the universe in pairs..
2
None shares His glory, "He was..is,
shall be"..who this doth say
Accepts Mohammad as 'guide'
with heart and love's true sway;
None from amongst those lost their way
or ever went astray.
3
“He is without a partner” , when
this glorious news you break
With love and knowledge, Mohammad
accept ..as cause him take
Why would you then obeisance make
to others after that?
4
From One, many to being came;
'many' but Oneness is;
Don't get confounded, Reality
is 'One' , this truth don't miss
Commotions vast display - all this
I vow, of Loved-one is.
5
The Echo and the call are same,
if you sound's secret knew
They both were one, but two became
only when 'hearing' came.
6
A thousand doors and windows too,
the palace has ..but see,
Wherever I might go or be
master confronts me there
7
If you have learnt to long, by pain
be not distressedSecret of love's sorrow must be
never confessedSuffering is by the heart caressed,
and there it is preserved.
8
The poison-drinking lovers, lured
by poison sweet, drink more and more;
To bitterness of fatal cup,
the poison-drinkers are inured,
Though wounds are festering, and uncured,
no whispers to the vulgar goes
9
All from Beloved's side is sweet
whatever He gives to you.
There is no bitter, if you knew
the secret how to taste.
10
There is a call to gallows, friends,
will any of you go!
Those who do talk of love may Know
to gallows they must speed.
11
If you a draught desire
to tavern find your way;
Thy head do sever, and that head
beside the barrel lay;
Only when you this price do pay
then few cups you may quaff.
12
The genuine lover, for his head
care and concern has none;
He cuts it off---joins it with breath
as gift then hands it on ;
Carves down to shoulders, form loved-one
then begs for love's return.
13
To guard and to preserve the head,
the lover's business is not this---
One of beloved's glance is worth
so many hundreds head of his---
Flesh, skin and bone, and all there is ,
the 'least ' of loved-one , equals not.

[swamidada]

Sur Kedaro of Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai

SATURDAY, 15 OCTOBER 2016
English Translation of Sur Kedaro By: Zulfiqar Ali Bhatti

This piece of work is translation of Sur Kedaro which is one of the 32 chapters of Shah Jo Risalo, the great poetry book of renowned mystic poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai form Sindh Pakistan which narrates the story of battle of Karbala in which Hussain, the grandson of the Prophet Muhammad was martyred along with his 72 companions and family members by the Army of tyrant ruler Yazid.
Canto 1
1
The month of Muharram arrives, heart for the princes sinks
God knows better, as he does whatever he likes, thinks
2
The month of Muharram returns but the Imams did not,
I might meet the lords of Medina, God I pray thee a lot.
3
The stalwarts left madina and they did not come back
Am in Plight for those went away, dyer, dye clothes in black
4
Plight of martyrdom was nothing but blessing
Yazid knew not about their eternal love, passion
To sacrifice their lives for their ultimate love
And die for their word their way, their fashion
5
Plight of martyrdom is nothing but pride pure
Stalwarts to know the Karbala’s tragedy obscure

Canto 2
1
The Imams leave Madina when the moon sets there
Equipped with swords, lances, axes and eagles along
To the battle field went the sons of Ali where
They will take the field with iron weapons strong
2
Settled in Karbala, the field of fierce battle
Faced Yazid’s army with great vigor and whim
With stunning strikes and with their teeth rattle
Fierce battle couldn’t make their passion dim
3
The Prophet’s siblings came to the land of Karbala
Their fine swords downcast the enemies to slaughter
No doubt the un fearing and undaunted in the battle
Were the sons of the Prophet’s beloved daughter
4
Stalwarts came to the land of Karbala
Brave, worthy of praise , undaunted
Earth jolted, and skies too shivered
With valor they their enemies enchanted
5
He gets friends slaughtered, beloved ones killed
And puts his closer ones into pain and plight
He does whatever wishes and whatever likes
Of course there lies some secret of deep insight

Canto 3
1
Is there any, saw gallants fighting in the field with valor great
Blood all around and death, feel the way fair, where life under threat
2
Gallants shine axes, swords and holding lances erect high
They relax them not, eager for martyrdom, ready to die
3
Charging and marching and fighting are the gallants’ trends
They keep on assaulting and, too, take care of friends,
4
The warriors came across with deafening sword strikes
And the stalwarts one after the other came down dead
Bloodshed all around, bloodstained bodies scattered
All around is hue and cry, and the field is all red
5
Warriors in the war shout and charge
And here cried one there the other breath
Trumpets cry at high on either side
Heroes and horses embraced the death
6
Heroes and horses shorter lives lead
Either at home or in the battle field
7
Martyrs’ bodies are brought back
In the battle field is hue and cry
Wives mourn for’em in the shack
With soiled hair on death of ally
8
Clad in wedding clothes, get ready and come along, groom
And fear not in spears strikes till you earn martyr’s bloom
9
Say not the husband fled away the field,
Pleased if hear, killed with wounds in his face
But If he bears in the back, I would die
Of unbearable pain, plight and disgrace
10
With out-thrust neck, proud wife sing aloud
Whose husbands were in the field martyred
“Such brave and undaunted warriors” they say
“With their blood red they their clans honored”
11
I’d love If you die fighting and I for you cry
But. dear husband flee not of the field
Life’s nothing but a very short ally
Shame forever which carping taunts yield

Canto 4
1
Dew fell or the twisters made them reach a weald
There came night over Ali’s children in the battle field
2
Yazid, put not Ali’s children in the quarrel’s plight
You will never avail whatever will be Hussein’s delight
3
Cruel Kufains came to the tyrant’s fold
Imam determined not to give up faith
Though under the impure people’s hold
And gladly braced a martyr’s death
4
Cruel Kufians sent word in the name of Lord
We your slaves, you the master of us all
Must you come once, we for your wait here
Be our saviour and listen to our eager call
5
Cruel Kofians allow not drink water in Karbala
There the children remember Ali, their father
And look around for Muhammad, the Prophet
Ask for aide from tyrants around that gather
6
Early in the morning there came a bird
At the Prophet’s shrine cried with painful moan
From the land of Karbala with saddening word
Seen swords striking, aide the children own

Canto 5
1
Hassan not there to aide Hussein in plight
And he is far, far away from his natal sod
Where Yazid assaults over him day and night
With his well trained, equipped warrior squad
2
Hassan not there to help the brother in the battle
If were there would have helped and sacrificed
Now, no one else is there to offer some aide,
Who could for Hussein his enemies have sliced
3
Not all in the battle field remain bold and brave
But only who care not life and for death they crave
4
He yet loves life if he does take shield
Gallant waits for none but marches ahead
Among all the warriors in the battle field
Stalwart all alone jumps to fight instead
5
Make doubt free heart, if want thee victory
Assault and wrestle and take not shield
Strike with spears with cries and shouts
Lumber cut enemies, take the battle field
6
Hur, the sturdy stout came straight and said,
Am but a slave to your grandfather, the Prophet nice
May I get his blessings as I am here to present
Myself, my soul and body for you sacrifice
7
Hur, though came from the other side to fight
He was with Hussien from the core of his heart
“My life is for you dear lord” said the true knight
Allah doesn’t burden a soul more than his sort
And I will do whatever I can against the plight”
Then braced martyrdom and well played his part
8
Wearing combat hamlet, audacious stalwart proud and sure
Stood undaunted though turned red with his blood pure
9
Beard bloodstained, teeth too, read like pomegranate flowers
Turban in the battle field shone like the full fourteenth moon
His mother to feel proud in the company of Muhammad, the prophet
Praise is for the vigorous gallant , martyred on the tenth’s afternoon
10
The mother cleansed the Karbala’s dust, and Ali wounds of the martyr
The Lord Almighty pardoned for the gallant’s brave blood’s barter

Canto 6
1
O warrior lord! throw thee onto the spears till thy last breath
For such an adorable sight for the years waits the death
2
As the goats cover mount, the vultures on the battle field
The warriors charge and chase and follow and fight
Widows of martyrs to raise the price of blue in numbers
They are to wear the mourning clothes after the plight
3
Vigorous warriors can’t stop fighting in the field
They battle in the name of Lord and sacrifice
Their lives before Imams, and warmly welcomed
With flowers’ wreathes by virgins in Eden so nice
4
Heaven is the home to stalwarts where they go
To Eden they move then, and meet the Lord
Bless me with a chance great , O, dear God,
And show me their face with your kind accord
5
Hassan and Hussien mourned by three clans
Men and brutes and angels in skies
Birds, too, cried, the beloved ones depart
Oh lord, eternal honor for them apprise
6
Those heartily adore not, Hassan and Hussein
The Creator Lord will never forgive them

[swamidada]

Soni Wadhwa 18 July 2018

“Risalo” by Shah Abdul Latif, edited and translated by Christopher Shackle

The Sindhi diaspora, whether in India or around the world, have a warm spot for the name Shah Abdul Latif, an 18th-century Sufi poet from Sindh, Pakistan, and a contemporary of the better known Punjabi Sufi poet Bulle Shah.

Very little is known about Latif, except that he was a pir, or a holy man, and his title Shah hints at his possible direct descent from the prophet Muhammad. An ancestor of his, Shah Karim, is considered to be one of the earliest poets writing/composing in Sindhi. Latif is hailed as Shakespeare of Sindhi literature.

Christopher Shackle’s edition of Risalo—Latif’s collection of his songs; the title means “the message— forms part of the respected Murty Classical Library of India published by the Harvard University Press and is an easily accessible bilingual edition of the entirety of Latif’s works in Sindhi original and English translation.

It also comes at a special moment: at a time when Sindhi language is fast disappearing from even the isolated pockets of several Indian cities where the Sindhis live, and when the schools teaching in Sindhi are shutting down, the Risalo stands as a revived icon of the esteem and the heritage of the community.

A word about Sufism and the language would be in order here. Sufism, or tasawwuf, is a mystical tradition of Islam often quite different from what might be considered “orthodox” practices. The movement spread to South Asia with the Muslim conquest; its literary express came with the consequent contact with Persian literature.

The Sindhi language’s relation with Islam goes back to at least the 9th century when tradition has it that Quran was first translated in Sindhi. The language has more recently been political: there was a row in the Victorian colonial period about which script to write it in and more recently about its lack of status as an “official” language”. In Sindhi, the Sufi message is seen at its subtlest and most powerful in the words of Latif.

Latif’s Risalo speaks of love and the beloved and incorporates metaphors of wine and yogic practices, highlighting traditions that belie Islam’s characterization as a monolithic faith.

The verses or lyrics in the Risalo are grouped under thirty surs. While a sur is understood to be the way a particular raga or scale is sung, in the Risalo, the surs are mostly named after the theme that the majority of the verses deal with. The surs do not come with a musical notation but the musicians performing at the shrine of Latif sing them in specific ways. Some surs are dedicated to regional legends like Suhini-Sahar or Sasui-Punhun. Some speak of love in general. Some offer praise to God. But within all subsumes the idea of the beloved as God and God as beloved. In “Sur Yaman Kalyan,” Latif says:

Mother, I do not believe those who shed tears and show people how their eyes water. Those who truly think of the beloved do not weep or say anything.

And a little later:

If you think of being united with the beloved, then learn from the way that thieves behave. They celebrate by keeping awake and taking no rest all night long. When they deliberately do come out, they do not utter a word. When they are chained together and put on the gallows, they say nothing. Although they are cut with knives, they reveal nothing of what has really happened.


The idea of love as a silent phenomenon is not unusual across cultures but the way it is blended here with thievery seems unique and shocking. Also unusual is the way Latif incorporates contradictions in the way he defines Sufi ways of love and devotion:

They are grieved by being given, by not being given they are happy. True Sufis are those who take nonexistence with them.

Latif speaks of love as suffering and pain, even in terms of violent images:

False lovers escape the arrow and never let themselves be struck. Those who make themselves a mark are killed by the first shot.

Or:
On the field of love, do not care about your head. If you mount the gallows of the beloved you will find perfect health.

Sufi thought and practice conceive of love as self-sacrifice. Latif spells it out very clearly when he says that desire and death begin with the same letter. The only way to love is be ready for death, to cease to exist, to trade with one’s head. These are the pre-requisites to union:

The self is a veil over yourself; listen and mark this well. It is existence that stands in the way of union.

Misery, unbearably cruelty—such are the ways of love and what it demands:

My beloved tied me up and threw me into deep water. He just stood there and told me not to get the hem of my clothes wet.


Latif also uses local romantic stories as analogies for devotion. There is one about Suhini who is married to Dam, but crosses the river Indus or Sindhu every night to meet her lover Sahar. Someone from Dam’s family conspires to kill her by replacing the pot she uses to cross the river with an unfired one. Suhini drowns but Latif uses her journey to draw parallels with the quest for the divine beloved. The husband and the society stand for the world that stands between Sunhini and God:

Her route lies in whichever direction the river flows; only insincere girls inspect the riverbank. Those who are filled with desire for Sahar do not ask about entry points or landing places. Those who thirst for love think the river is a mere step.

Loving becomes a journey and the act of pursuing the divine. Latif turns something as illicit as extramarital love into piety. Suhini screams:

Love rages at me every day. Beloved, why do you not come and restrain it?

Besides these ways of refreshing the way trueness to God/beloved is conceived of, there is also an element of transcending religious boundaries in Latif’s poetry. Latif says that the practice of seeking God is not in any way exclusive to the pathways dictated by any religious scriptures. That is why he can see what the Hindu yogis who journey towards the Eastern sites of pilgrimages are up to:

For what purpose do the yogis follow this path? Their hearts are not set on hell, nor do they desire paradise. They have nothing to do with unbelievers, and they do not have Islam in their minds. They stand there saying: “Make the beloved your own.”

The way the Sufis and the yogis love is the same in this vision. Both are consumed by a passion for the beloved and both quietly go about their business of seeking him/her:

Ram dwells in their soul, they speak of nothing else. They filled the cup of love and drank deeply from it. After that they closed their lodges and left. With matted braids over their foreheads, the yogis are always lamenting. No one has ever spoken to ask what makes them grieve. They spend their entire life in suffering.

This kind of identification and camaraderie across religious practices is not discernible in South Asian literary traditions except, perhaps, in the work of the Indian Bhakti poet Kabir, or Latif’s contemporary Bulle Shah. Christopher Shackle’s translation goes a long way in reminding readers across communities that faith moves people and torments them too in the same way irrespective of their religiosity.

The Risalo might be held as the Quran of Sindhi literature, Shackle suggests. It is perhaps no coincidence that among the works inspirational to Latif himself was the Persian poet Rumi’s Masnavi, which in turn is idolized as the Quran of Persian literature.

Sindhi writing is among the least known regional expressions of South Asian literature. This edition brings to light an important voice from an intersection of a literary tradition and a syncretic practice. The new Risalo is invaluable for reintroducing the poet saint’s message and creating a context for reading about the ecstasy of divine love and revisiting the ways one can love.

Soni Wadhwa lives in Mumbai.

https://asianreviewofbooks.com/content/ ... r-shackle/

[swamidada]

Zulfiqar Ali Kalhoro
August 28, 2020

Be it morning or evening, the faqirs of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai may be found dressed in black and sitting in a semi-circle before the door to his tomb, singing his poetry on the tamboura. The Shah Jo Rag at his dargah enthrals the audience, who come from different parts of Sindh to pay respects to him. This practice of Shah Jo Raag continues from the days of Shah Abdul Bhitai when he himself used to sing with his faqirs. The shrine complex of Shah Abdul Latif is always full of his devotees: led by his faqirs who enter his dargah reciting his Sufi poetry. Many faqirs are to be seen leaning against the outer walls of the shrine and reciting his poetry. The Shah’s shrine provides succour to downtrodden segments of Sindhi society, who come to find some solace praying and sit leaning against the outer walls of the shrine which are decorated with blue and white tiles. These oppressed sections of society throng the Shah’s shrine to pay homage to him and spend their most of time at his dargah feeling the mystic milieu. For instance, at almost any time, it is possible to see families of Hindus from marginalized castes at the shrine, reflecting its popular appeal as well inclusiveness.

The Shah Jo Risalo, which has 30 surs (and ‘sur’ refers to a mode of singing that corresponds to the subject matter), was first published by German scholar Ernest Trumpp in 1866 in Leipzig, Germany. This publication missed a few surs, which were later added by other scholars.

In his poetry, women find a premier place. Shah reflects in his verse the suffering, sorrow and honesty of the woman of the land

Born in the small village of Hala Haveli in 1689, Shah Abdul Latif received early education in the village from his teacher Noor Muhammad. Amena Khamisani, who translated the Shah Jo Risalo into English, believed that although Shah Abdul Latif received a scanty formal education, the Risalo gives ample proof of the fact that he was well-versed in Arabic and Persian languages. The Holy Quran, the Hadith, the Masnawi of Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi and the collection of Shah Abdul Karim’s poems (his great-grandfather, who died in 1623), were his constant companions. He was also presented a copy of the Masnawi of Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi by Mian Noor Muhammad Kalhoro to win back his favour, as he had been estranged from Shah Abdul Latif. Mai Gulan, the wife of Noor Muhammad Kalhoro, was an ardent devotee of Shah Abdul Latif. Her son Mian Ghulam Shah Kalhoro was also Shah’s admirer. When Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai passed away in 1752, Mian Ghulam Shah Kalhoro (1757-1772), then the ruler of Sindh, built his tomb. Mian Ghulam Shah Kalhoro also built the tomb of his father Shah Habib and a mosque at Bhit Shah. Later Mian Naseer Khan Talpur also made some extensions.

Today, the shrine of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai is visited by his Muslim and Hindu devotees alike, who come to seek the blessings of the saint. This is one of the few Sufi shrines in Sindh where people of different faiths come to seek solace transcending all religious boundaries. Bhitai rejected the religious bigotry of his time and travelled with Hindu yogis to their pilgrimage centres in Sindh and Balochistan. He also mentioned other holy places of jogis in Kutch, Girnar, Dwarka and Rajasthan, some of which he might have visited himself. From his Risalo, one learns a lot about his poetry on the sectarian affiliation and holy places of yogis. Shah Abdul Latif makes references in his poetry about some of the popular Hindu sacred spaces which he visited with wandering ascetics. The two surs of his Risalo ‘Sur Ramkali’ and ‘Sur Khahori’ are devoted to yogis. In fact, yogis found a good place in Sufi poetry of Sindh. Before Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai, Shah Lutfullah Qadiri (1611-1679) was the first Sufi poet who mentioned them in detail in his poetry. Miyon Shah Inayat (1620-1708) also referred to yogis in his poetry, and even devoted two surs, Ramkali and Purab, to them. He mentioned Veer Nath in his poetry – who was an eminent 17th-century Nath Yogi. He was also the founder of the Veernathi Sampradaya. Veer Nath Ji Marhi at Ratokot in Khipro taluka was once an important centre of the Nath Jogis of Rajasthan, Gujarat, Punjab and Sindh. It still attracts both ascetics and common people.

The name of Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai is synonymous with Sindh identity. In every nook and corner of Sindh and beyond, a majority of Sindhis identify themselves as the followers of Shah’s message of love, harmony, devotion and tolerance. The Shah’s mysticism is a many-splendoured jewel. Like many other subjects in his Risalo, Shah Abdul Latif also utilized the main features of the folk romances of Sasui and Punhun, Suhni and Mehar, Umar and Marvi, Leela and Chanesar, Moomal and Rano, Nuri and Jam Tamachi, Sorath-Rai Dyach and Bijal etc. to expound the spiritual journey that one has to undertake on their way to God.

In his poetry, women find a premier place. Shah reflects in his verse the suffering, sorrow and honesty of the woman of the land. In Marvi’s case, for instance, Shah depicts how her longing and love for her homeland were not changed by Umar’s wealth, affluence and luxury.

Through Shah Abdul Latif’s poetry, these romances also inspired the Sindhi painters who painted scenes from them in tombs. All the folk romances that Shah Abdul Latif used in his Risalo to convey his mystic thoughts became part of the later artistic repertoire of Sindhi painters – which they could draw upon to express their feelings and emotions in the form of murals. Instead of painting the entire story, the painters focused on the important episodes of the story.

Apart from the romantic tales, the folk tale of King Rai Dyach and Bijal also became an important theme in Sindh’s art – which was again derived from the poetry of Shah Abdul Latif. In this legend, as depicted in tombs, the famous musician Bijal is shown asking for the head of King Rai Dyach who was known for his generosity. Word had it that nobody returned empty-handed from his palaces. When Bijal insisted on demanding nothing short of the king’s head, Rai Dyach proceeded to cut his head with a sword and presented it as a memento to the musician.

Apart from Rai Dyach’s generosity, Shah Abdul Latif also composed poetry on various other generous (dattar) and brave persons including Jadam Jakhro, Samo, Abro, Rahu etc. in Sur Bilawal.

Today, the shrine of Shah has become a symbol of religious harmony and tolerance, where people of different faiths interact and intermingle – shedding their bigotry by engrossing themselves in the Sufi music and poetry. Both his Muslim and Hindu devotees are likely to promote this message to their progenies for posterity.

The writer is an anthropologist.

https://www.thefridaytimes.com/the-shahs-shrine/

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UMAR MARVI

It is a story of the times when Umer Soomro used to rule over THAR. In the village of Malir (this is the Malir in THAR, and it is not the Malir 14 miles from Karachi city) a shepherd named Palini used to live with his wife Maduee. They had a small farm also. They used to look after their herd, cultivate their small piece of land and led a contended life. They had hired a farm boy named Foghsen.
They had a daughter named Marvi. Even at the time of birth she was as beautiful as a fairy and as she grew in years she grew in beauty also. Her fame as a very beautiful girl spread far and wide. As she entered her youth Foghsen was infatuated by her. In spite of being a mere farm hand he had the audacity to ask for the hand of Marvi. This infuriated Palini and he was immediately sacked and Marvi was betrothed to Khetsen. Thus spurned and guided by fire of jealousy and to seek revenge for affront suffered.

Foghsen approached Umer Soomro the ruler of Umerkot (fort Umerkot) which was known after the name of its ruler Umer though in fact this fort was founded by Amarsingh Rathore.
Foghsen incited the rulers’ lust by giving vivid descriptions of
the beauty of Marvi. He said that the place of such a beautiful lady was only in the palace of the ruler where due to all the comforts and luxuries her beauty would bloom.
The ruler was naturally quite impressed by Foghsen’s narration of Marvi’s beauty. He wanted to posses her. Umer Soomro the ruler guided by Foghsen went to Malir in disguise. When they reached outskirts of Malir incidentally at that exact time Marvi was going towards the
well to fetch water. At the sight of her beauty Umer was quite intoxicated; while Foghsen hid behind trees, he approached Marvi as a thirsty traveler. As Marvi came near to give him water he immediately picked her up on his camel and quickly rode to Umerkot.

At Umerkot she was kept virtual prisoner. She was enticed, cajoled and threatened, but to no avail. Ruler Umer Soomro praised her beauty, professed deep love, promised to make her reining Queen, but all the allurements of good –luxurious clothes, food, status and all luxuries failed to shake her resolve that she belonged to her clan, her own native people and she would not marry any one else except Khetsen a person to whom she was betrothed to.

In the word of Shah Latif the immortal poet of Sindh:

I will not accept any other husband,
For me that, wearing coarse garments is handsome,
Even if uncouth he occupies the place in my heart.

This infuriated Umer Soomro and she was consigned to prison. She was abducted during winter season; nearly six months elapsed and rainy season came. She would sadly count the seasons and would picture the life of her kinsfolk at her village of Malir and pine for them. She bore her adversity with stoic fortitude for she knew that her poor kins were not able to rise against the King. She did not waver in her resolve. She did not change into royal garments, to this she became utterly oblivious.
In the words of Shah Latif Marvi said:

I would not use your oil; my heart is attached to my kin,
Why should I listen to any one, ultimately I belong there.
This is not the way of my kin folks,
To exchange daughter for the sake of Gold,

While at Umerkot I shall not sour this tradition,
The love of hutment cannot be exchanged for a palace.

Having failed in all his endeavors Umer resorted to shaming her by saying. “You crave so much for your kin folks but all this time they have not even cared to send any message to you. It is futile for you to continue to remember them, pine for them and entertain any hope of rescue from them.” Marvi was unshaken in her resolve. She did not even look at all the allurements and luxuries kept before her. She would prefer her simple food to the royal feast and the wild flowers to costly scents offered by the ruler.
In the words of Shah Latif:

My bare threads are more than the gold chain,
Don’t offer silks to poor cowherds O, Umer!
Even a fold of my own upper garment is dear to me.

She entreated Umer to free her so that she may return to her native place and pour water of her soil on herself. She further told Umer that when she would die in his captivity her body should be sent to her people so that she may be buried in her native soil.
In the words of Shah Latif:

While pining for my land, were I to breathe my last,
My body be handed over to my people,
May the creepers of my native soil cover my body,
I would live though dead, if buried at Malir.

All this exasperated Umer. He was all the more sullen. At that time his nurse who came to know of the situation rushed to Umer and told him that Marvi and he had par taken the milk from the same wet nurse and thus they are in a way brother and sister. On hearing this Umer was horrified at the enormity of the crime he was to commit. Immediately he sent a camel rider to Malir to Marvi’s parents and asked their forgiveness and gave money and gold to Marvi as behooves a brother.

Marvi returned to Malir with her parents. As Marvi had remained with Umer at his palace her betrothed Khetsen was suspicious about her chastity. Even in the community Marvi could not get the respect due to lingering doubts.

When Umer heard this he came with army to Malir. This led to her people abandoning their huts. Marvi went to Umer and told him that he had first committed the crime of abducting her and on the top of it he has attacked them which is totally unfair. Even if they suspected me they were not wrong. How would they know that I am still pure? Now you must go back to your palace.

Hearing this Umer felt ashamed and offered to undergo any trial to prove the truth. Marvi said I am the one who is under suspicion therefore I will face the test. An iron rod was put into fire when that rod was red hot Marvi stretched her palm and held the same in her hand and emerged unscathed. Then Umer the ruler also insisted on the same test and emerged pure.
This convinced every one and Marvi and Khetsen lived happily ever after till ripe age.

[swamidada]

Religious extremism and Sufi literature
Published April 28, 2009

Though much has been written on Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai and his Sufi poetry, there are some misconceptions about him and his poetry. One of the reasons for this misunderstanding is that due to a dearth of good books on him in Urdu and English those who do not know Shah's native Sindhi cannot reach the heart and soul of his poetic works. His poetry, truly a great piece of literary heritage, is deeply rooted in Islamic Sufism that shunned narrow, bigoted approach towards religion and welcomed everyone with open arms regardless of their colour, caste or creed. And this kind of all-embracing openness is not limited to Shah Sahib alone but almost all the Sufi poets of the sub-continent practiced what they preached and wrote about humanity, love and approbation.

Some are under the false impression that Shah Abdul Latif was a reclusive Sufi who uttered couplets under trance which his disciples wrote down as he himself was not literate. Many underrate his works and do not grant him a position beyond the status of a folk poet and think that the focus of his themes and poetry is Sindh alone. Manzoor Ahmed Qanasro has strongly dispelled these misconstrued impressions in his recently published book, 'Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai hayaat-o-afkaar', a book written in Urdu and backed by considerable research.

Compiled with a view to understanding Shah's message of humanity and love against the backdrop of his contemporary social and political milieu, the author has devoted a good portion of the book to highlight Sindh's history and the events that surrounded Shah's life and ultimately exerted their influence on his poetry. Qanasro has also cast some light on the hitherto little-explored aspects of Shah's life and his poetry and that include the 'bhit' or the mound, Shah's tomb, the famous Lake Karar, the rituals performed at his tomb, the tradition of 'sama'a' or qawwali music, genres of Sindhi poetry, the folk tales and folk characters that appear in Shah's poetry with symbolic and allegorical connotations. Some colour photographs of these places and characters adorn the book.

Qanasro says Shah was not only properly educated but also knew many languages including Arabic, Persian, Seraiki, Punjabi, Urdu/Hindi and Balochi, not to mention Sindhi. In Shah's poetry, there are scores of metaphors and allusions that refer to the Quran, Hadith and Mathnavi of Maulana Rumi. He used to carry with him all the time, says Qanasro, a copy of the Quran, the Mathnavi and 'Bayan-ul-arifeen', a collection of Sufi poetry of Shah's great-grandfather Shah Abdul Karim of Bulri. According to Ernest Trump, the famous scholar who first published the collection of Shah's poetry 'Shah jo risalo' in 1866 from Germany, his poetry is enough evidence to prove that Shah was an educated and well-read person, writes the author.

Shah was not only a great poet or a great Sufi, he was also a great connoisseur of music. Though he never played a musical instrument in his life, his entire poetry is based on classical ragas and is sung according to the decorum these ragas demand. Qanasro has given the details of the ritualistic music-playing and singing at Shah's mausoleum and has described the significance it carries.

What makes the book more adorable for the readers of Urdu is the Urdu translation of Shah's selected poetry along with the original Sindhi verses and the Sindhi pronunciation mentioned in Urdu script, thereby closing in the gap between the speakers of the two languages that has, unfortunately, existed till today. The author has done another favour to the readers by giving the abstract of every chapter first, explaining the metaphorical and symbolic meanings of the verses that follow. Prof Sahar Ansari is right when he says in his intro to the book that Qanasro has not only opened the vistas of new meaning for modern readers but has tried to decipher 'the meaning of the meaning' in Shah's poetry. Agha Saleem, in his foreword, stresses that we have lost our cultural identity and the re-discovery of our poets like Shah Abdul Latif, Baba Fareed, Bulleh Shah, and Sachal Sarmast etc will lead to our own rediscovery.

In Shah's poetry we find certain symbols that denote metaphysical ideas. Love in Shah's poetry does not necessarily refer to worldly love and the material world may be an allusion to the spiritual. For instance, in 'Omer Marui' in 'Shah jo rislao', during her imprisonment Marui constantly focuses her thoughts on 'Marus', her fellow tribesmen, and according to Anne Marie Schimmel, “the plural form 'Marus' is used here, as elsewhere, to denote the One True Beloved who manifests Himself in the most varied forms while still eluding all concrete description”. In other words, Shah Sahib, like many other Muslim Sufis, believed in 'wahdat-ul-wujud', a kind of Islamic pantheism. This invariably resulted in the belief that everybody should be loved since everyone and everything is but a manifestation of the One True Beloved, a thought well-presented in Sufi poetry.

Sufi poetry has a long and unbroken tradition in the sub-continent and it, therefore, is surprising for some that a society that had a continuity of Sufi thought that has stressed peaceful coexistence and religious harmony to the point of loving virtually everyone has become so extremist as to shun everything except its own brand of religious faith. For a better understanding, let me quote Schimmel again who says “... simple Quranic precepts have been interpreted more and more narrowly over the course of time. Moreover, customs and attitudes lacking any and all Quranic foundation have become increasingly rigid”. But, then, she is equally aware of the sensitivities of Muslim societies and points out “On the other hand, we have to be careful not to look upon our ideas that stem from a liberal, frequently from an 'uninhibited' interpretation of the concept 'freedom', as ideals applicable and valid for all the world. We have to be equally wary not to dismiss or condemn outright as being old-fashioned customs and habits we happen not to like. Muslims easily reject the transposition of certain 'modern' ideals onto the Islamic world as being just another new attempt to colonization. Such perceptions do little more than engender sharp resistance”.

Somehow I feel that this aspect of Muslim sensitivity has largely been ignored, igniting a sharp resistance.

Published by Karachi's Sindhica Academy, the book is just a reminder that Sufi poetry is a voice against extremism.

https://www.dawn.com/news/921194/religi ... literature

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SINDHU MY MOTHER

Sanam Marvi’s ‘Sindhu Wahando Rahando’ has become an anthem for Sindhis protesting against the canal project
The song’s creators might have anticipated its popularity, but its widespread impact far exceeded their expectations.

Kamran Khamiso Khowaja
15 May, 2025

“Sindh’s sands are priceless to me; gold and silver are but worthless. In this world of hell, you are my paradise.” These are the words of Dr Ishaq Samejo in his ode to Sindh and the Indus River in a poem titled Jug Jug Jeando Rahano, Sindhu Wahando Rahando. This poem — turned into a song with the help of people as passionate as Dr Samejo about the sanctity of the river — is slowly becoming the anthem of Sindh’s resistance to a project they believe will siphon away their water rights.

For decades, music has served as a powerful catalyst for social change and revolution. The tale of Sindh is no different — the province has a rich tradition and long-standing history of revolutionary songs that have played a vital role in uniting communities and fuelling movements.

Born during the Anti-One Unit Movement, which protested against the reorganisation of the provinces by the central government for 15 years starting in 1954, was Shaikh Ayaz’s poem Sahendo Ker Mayar Oh Yar Sindri Te Sir Ker Na Dino (Who will tolerate insult, instead will lay down his life for Sindh). During the 90s, when Karachi and Hyderabad bled, Abida Parveen sang the powerful poetry of Tajal Bewas.

Poetry and song have long been written during trying times in Sindh. During the Movement for the Restoration of Democracy in the 80s, when young people from across the province rallied against General Zia, seasoned poets such as Ayaz, Ustad Bukhari, Haleem Baghi, Sarwech Sujawali, Akash Ansari, and Dr Tanveer Abbasi inspired with their poetry.

On Sujawali’s first death anniversary, the late writer and politician Rasool Bux Palijo paid tribute to the enduring spirit of Sindhi poetry, recognising the role poets played in stirring the conscience of Sindh’s people and encouraging them to rise against injustice.

Furthering the cause have always been singers, such as Jiji Zarina Baloch, Ustad Muhammad Yousuf, Sarmad Sindhi, Abida Parveen, Sadiq Fakir, and Shafi Faqeer, who turned those poems into anthems of change.

The song of a movement
Today, Sindh is once again protesting. This time, the protests are over a shortage of irrigation water and the proposed six canals scheme under the Green Pakistan Initiative (GPI).

As Bisma Barkat, a member of the Karachi Bachao Tehreek organising committee, told Dawn.com, “the capitalist interests combined with the state want to take away the rights of the common man [and] what belongs to the common man.”

The GPI, spearheaded by the federal government, hinges on a network of six newly-developed canals that will channel water from the Indus River to irrigate Punjab’s Cholistan desert region. It is being touted as a bold step towards ensuring food security and rural upliftment, transforming barren lands through modern farming techniques.

But what is being hailed as a game-changer for Punjab has triggered an uproar in Sindh, where farmers and others dependant on water from the Indus River fear the project will siphon away their water rights.

In recent months, opposition to the project has intensified. In March, heated debates erupted in the Sindh Assembly as lawmakers clashed over the project before unanimously passing a resolution demanding “an immediate halt to all plans and activities related to the construction of the canals.”

Many activists, lawyers, farmers, and students have also joined the chorus of voices, cautioning against the far-reaching repercussions of the plan.

People from all corners of the province are converging on the Babarlo Bypass in Khairpur, the central point of the protest, to join hands with the legal fraternity and strengthen their voice for the riparian rights of Sindh and the survival of the Indus River.

During this tumultuous time, an anthem rose. ‘Jug Jug Jeando Rahano, Sindhu Wahando Rahando’ (The Indus River shall survive forever, it shall flow forever), sung by the celebrated Sanam Marvi, significantly impacted the campaign and helped it garner widespread support.

The song stems from a poem of the same name by renowned poet Dr Samejo, and though its creators might have hoped for its popularity, its overwhelming reach far exceeded their expectations.

According to Fida Hussain Baghat, the videographer and director of the music video, the journey began four months ago when Samejo approached him with a request to film scenes featuring Marvi, the acclaimed singer whose Coke Studio renditions of ‘Hairaan Hua’ and ‘Lagi bina / chal mele noon challiye’ with Saeen Zahoor are well-known and loved.

Baghat recalled that Marvi, mesmerised by the lyrics, agreed to lend her voice to Samejo’s poem.

The poet himself, the author of multiple books of poetry, short stories, and prose, was surprised at the song’s remarkable success, admitting he never imagined such a huge response to a poem he had penned long before it found new life as a widely-celebrated song.

The makings of an anthem
It all began over a joint discussion to turn Samejo’s verses into music.

“Former culture minister and poet Syed Sardar Ali Shah, Fida Hussain Baghat, and I sat together and decided to transform my poetry into a song. The lyrics were selected by Sardar Shah,” said Samejo.

He revealed that he knew the song would become a hit, but hadn’t fathomed that it would become a hymn of struggle.

Offering a glimpse into the emotions and ideas that inspired his words, the poet also shared a few verses from the song that he held close to his heart:

Oh darti, oh Mata he jee Sindhi panj crore // Dinda kon pawan Sindhu te hare ke panjore // Shenh babar jiyan he hamesh, agte wadando rahendo // Jug jug jeando rahando

(Oh beloved motherland, Oh Sindh! Fifty million Sindhis will not let the Indus River wither away, it will keep roaring like a lion!)

For Samejo, the song narrated the historic significance of the Indus River — including its role in feeding the poor and fishermen — to the people of Sindh.

A tribute to the Indus
“Baghat left the mainstream media industry long ago, but since he had songs like ‘Jiye Sindh Jiye’, ‘Jiye Muhinji Sindh’, and ‘Awan Ta Dil Tan’, among others, I wanted him to work on the video making and graphics of this song,” Samejo explained.

Talking about the visuals of the video, the videographer said it featured farmers working on their land, fishermen sitting on boats floating along the Indus River, children holding fish in their hands, historic sites, and the lush and fertile lands of Sindh, interlaced with clips of Marvi singing the song.

“The video aimed to highlight the role of the Indus River in enriching the centuries-old Indus Valley Civilisation and improving the quality of life of people across Sindh,” he explained.

Marvi was instantly sold on the idea of performing this poem. The singer told Images, “I would like to give credit to Dr Qadir Sarki, who shared these lyrics with me, and I instantly agreed to sing this masterpiece.”

She added that composer Irfan Samo worked very hard to create a tune best suited to her voice and style of singing, calling this a landmark song in her career, which spans more than two decades.

“This song is my tribute to the Indus River and the Indus Valley Civilisation.”

Samo said all the artists who worked on the project, including Marvi, offered their time and talent without charging a single rupee, highlighting their unwavering dedication to the homeland.

He said it was an honour to compose the tune for a masterpiece that had inspired the people of Sindh, adding that Samejo’s poetry had breathed new life into a dying musical tradition, reviving Sindhi music at a time when it was needed most.

“Throughout Sindh, this song has been a moving spirit behind processions, sit-ins, rallies, and events organised to condemn the six canals scheme, which will be responsible for an unceasing water crisis across Sindh if successfully executed.”

Samejo experienced the song’s widespread appreciation firsthand, remarking that people would approach him to pay their respects as soon as they discovered he was the person behind it.

A song for Sindh by Sindh
Needless to say, the song is cherished by the people of Sindh. Although the music video originally debuted on YouTube in December 2024, its recent transformation into an anthem has only amplified the public’s appreciation for it. From young students to social media users to protestors, the song has permanently etched itself into Sindh’s history.

Zubair Jaffrani, a representative of the Sindh Culture Department, said, “Many students told me that this song, ‘Jug Jug Jeando Rahano,’ is sung daily during assembly in different public schools of rural Sindh, after which teachers apprise students about the environmental crisis taking place across Sindh in the wake of the ongoing water crisis.”

Emerging musician and videographer Shahzaib Ali said that listening to the song daily was like having an energy drink, boosting one’s spirit and connection to their homeland. Musician and composer Asif Virani aptly described the tune as “a melody of change.”

The song has also become a popular choice for the videos of social media users across Sindh.

Ajeeb Lakho, who is covering the Babarlo sit-in staged by the legal fraternity and Sindhi nationalist groups, said the song was played countless times at the protest to keep the protesters charged.

https://images.dawn.com/news/1193558/sa ... al-project

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Interfaith Dialogue
26 Nov 2018, NewAgeIslam.Com
Sufism Is At the Heart of the Sindhi Identity for both Hindus and Muslims
By Pranav Khullar

Nov 24, 2018

In the once-united Indian subcontinent, Sufi poetry and thought became the blaming influence among different communities and faiths during the Middle Ages. Absorbing the finest tenets of Hinduism and Islam, Sufi spiritual thought touched a chord in the hearts of thousands and offered a world view without any ethnic or community differences. As it grew in various parts of the Punjab and Sindh, the Sufi ethos became the touchstone of peace and understanding between different faiths. Sindh, now one of the four provinces of Pakistan, has always been well-known for the large number of mystics and minstrels who practiced and preached in the subcontinent.

Sufism has been at the heart of the Sindhi identity for both Hindus and Muslims of that area. In fact, Sindh even today has the highest percentage of Hindu residents. Popular folklore has it that 125,000 mystics are buried on Makli Hill, near Thatta, near the apex of the Indus River Delta, the Makli necropolis now a Unesco world heritage site. The name Makli was derived from a pilgrim going into spiritual ecstasy at this point, and declaring the site to be Mecca for him. The place was then hailed as the ‘little Mecca’ and became Makli later.

Renowned Sufi poet of the 16th century, Shah Abdul Karim, known for his learning and piety, wrote 92 beits proclaiming the brotherhood of man and the unity of God, which are recited by the devout to this day. Towards the middle of the 17th century, Sindh produced another great Sufi saint, Shah Inayat, popularly known as Shah Inayat of Jhok, and his beits and bol, verses, enthralled the desert. His hymns inspired the people to revolt against the unjust Zamindari system. A God-intoxicated saint, Shah Inayat was persecuted for his views and his execution made him a hero of many a Sindhi legend and folklore.

By the end of the 17th century, there appeared the greatest Sindhi Sufi poet who infused new life and gave new hope to his people. His name was Shah Abdul Latif, meaning the Gracious of the Gracious. Well-versed in Quranic traditions and Vedantic thought, Shah Latif knew seven languages and was called ‘Sufi-e-Haft Zaban’.

Shah Latif’s greatest contribution to Sufi thought were his spiritual sermons which were compiled by his disciples, and are called Shah Jo Risalo, The Message of Shah. Risalo is neither a philosophical treatise nor a literary masterpiece, but it transports readers to new spiritual heights.

Shah Latif was a Sufi poet in the ancient Vedic tradition in which saints and sages possessed nothing and whom nothing possessed except the name of God, the service of the poor and welfare of humanity. He believed that while intellect is bondage, faith is the liberator. While the Ulema learn from books only, the mystics learn from their experience of God-Infinite. Shah Latif liked the company of Hindu saints and visited Hindu centres of pilgrimage. At Dwarka, he danced while reciting the name of Krishna. In spite of his vast erudition, he found comfort in mysticism than in theology.

In the larger framework, Shah Latif was a part of the Bhakti Movement that swept the country from 13th to the 19th century in one form or the other. He adopted the Hindu ritual of ‘shaving the head’ for every new entrant in the Khanqah, the place for gatherings of a Sufi brotherhood, offering sherbet to every visitor. He made no distinction between a Gurukul and a Khanqah, between a Mandir and a Masjid. Shah Jo Risalo is said to have 30 Suras, chapters that are sung like ragas in Indian classical music. They explore the inner restlessness of the soul and the need to anchor this restlessness in God.

At the peak of this Sufi mountain, one also has Sachal Sarmast. Writing about Sachal, Kalyan Advani, author of Sarmast, a monograph, says, “He remained throughout his life under the wondrous spell of the great mystic martyr, Mansoor, although he himself did not adorn the gibbet, much as he coveted it. He proclaimed his Master’s message to the world, like a muezzin from a tower, crying Anal Haq — ‘I am the God/I am the Truth’. He wrote nearly one lakh verses.

Sachal’s tradition was carried on by a number of Hindu Sufi poets, particularly Bhai Chainrai, popularly known as Sami, a name he took on to honour his master, Sami Meghraj. He is the first Sindhi-Vedantic poet who wrote 3,500 Sufi hymns in the form of beits, followed by Bhai Dalpatrai, another Sufi-Vedantic mystic poet, whose poetry is an amalgam of Sufi thought and Advaita Vedanta.

Kabir of the Sindh:

Sufi Rohal Faqir was yet another saint who carried on the tradition of his great preceptor Shah Inayat. Local folklore has it that Rohal is the Kabir of the Sindh province. He wrote Bhakti verses in Hindi besides in Sindhi and Saraiki, a western Punjabi-Sindhi dialect, which connoted the language of the immigrants from Baluchistan to Sindh.

Annemarie Schimmel, renowned Sufi scholar, writes on how in Sindh, the borders were never hermetically closed between Islam and Hinduism. She cites ‘Sur Ramkali’ in Shah Abdul Latif’s Risalo, in which the mystic praises the wandering Hindu yogis as seekers of that universal Truth.

Inspiring people to seek the love divine, Sindhi Sufi poetry sent out a powerful message of love, peace and understanding, even as it exhorted the seeker to rise above petty trifles of living and seek out the inner truth that bonds us all together.

http://newageislam.com/NewAgeIslamDialo ... eID=116984

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Weather wisdom in Sindhi literature: Exploring human-nature interactions in Shah Jo Risalo
Weather remains an essential component of physical experiences of the environment, as well as people’s expressions of emotions, in fact and in fiction.
Atoofa Samo | Aqdas Fatima Published August 5, 2022

Weather stories and folklore are one avenue through which people have historically expressed their interactions with the environment.

They not only capture the ways in which people interact with their environments, but also provide a force of imagination that influences understandings of the self, the universe, and broader perceptions of the human condition.

This article considers stories that have been told about weather in the South Asian context. How have they shaped peoples’ engagement with their environments? How have they aided sensorial experiences of weather? And what is the relevance of such stories in today’s climate-change driven context?

The need for management
Among all the novelties experienced by the British as they colonised South Asia, variable climate stood as a particularly perplexing concern. Beyond the obvious differences, the agency of weather in the South Asian context became a prominent source of anxiety.

From Henry Pottinger’s narrations of the “most sultry weather” of Sindh to early descriptions of South Asian weather as “abhorrent”, “violent” and “hellish”, we gain a sense of the region’s weather — and particularly its heat — as something that needed management.

In part, ideas of “the orient” and “the tropics”, along with emerging scientific categorisations of weather, created a new means of controlling environmental processes that were otherwise deemed chaotic.

As meteorological sciences gained footing in the late 19th century, the ability to predict weather patterns and behaviours substantially improved, making weather less eccentric than previously assumed.

Colonial conversations steered away from puzzlement over the agency of weather and its impacts, towards defining it as something rather platitudinous — weather became reserved as a subject of conversation for when there was nothing left to talk about.

Despite this, weather remains an essential component of physical experiences of the environment, as well as people’s expressions of emotions, in fact and in fiction.

From proverbial references of garmi (heat) to anger and passion, to the metaphorical joy of bahaar (spring) and barsaat (rain), descriptions of weather are not only telling of peoples’ perceptions of their environments, but are crucial insights into the way they may be feeling as a result of interacting with such environments.

In what follows, we use poetry from Shah jo Risalo — a collection by Sufi poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai — to explore how weather and the environment are used as forces of imagination, and how they reflect a local ethos of human-nature interactions in Sindh, a province of modern-day Pakistan.

We also underscore the difference between weather and climate in relation to the environment — where the former engages with short-term experiences, the latter spans over a longer duration. We choose to focus on weather and base our understanding on Camille Frazier’s definition of weather as embodied experience and interactions with local environments.

Bhitai’s poetry
Shah Abdul Latif Bhitai was a scholar and a saint, considered by many as the greatest poet of the 17th century. Written in the form of ballads, his poetry narrates the experience of individuals seeking God, emphasising negotiations with the ego.

The Risalo contains 30 thematic chapters, called Surs, of which some illustrate the life stories of widely known and culturally significant heroines — Suhni, Sasui, Lila, Momal, Marui, Nuri and Sorath.

Bhitai’s interest and focus on nature set these tales as rich grounds for exploring human-nature interactions and how they manifest in local realities.

Since the 18th century, various manuscripts of Risalo have emerged with slight differences in translation and analyses.

We focus on two translated versions of the Risalo: the revised and annotated edition by Muhamad Yakoob Agha and translations by Elsa Qazi for secondary analysis.

Our particular focus, Sur Sasui, is among the longest series of Surs, including Sur Abri, Sur Hussaini, Sur Kohyar, Sur Mazuri and Sur Desi, bearing on the story of Sasui and Punhoo. We also refer to Sur Sarang (the monsoon), particularly in its notation of the value of water as a symbol of fertility during times of famine.

What makes Sur Sasui particularly relevant for reflecting localised interactions with weather is the significance it grants to elements such as light and shade, the sun and water, heat and the wind.

Such facets of environmental interaction are not only essential in character development and as a means for exploring the character’s emotional states, but are also crucial in defining the story’s progression, particularly its spatio-temporal placement.

Atmospheric metaphors utilising scorching winds, harsh sunlight, and pouring rain are frequently drawn in order to express the state of the beloved (the primary subject of the poet) and the intensity of their circumstances.

Where weather is conventionally understood as scientific, Risalo’s ability to express emotional capacities through various weather elements, and its exploration of how such elements become associated with emotive states are tell-tale signs of locally grounded human-nature interactions, particularly how this dichotomy is understood. Anthropological study of weather tends to establish clear boundaries between what is social and what is ecological, often focusing on humans as subjects that actively interact with a dormant environment, i.e. the object.

Bhitai not only observes the receptiveness of people to nature and vice versa, he builds an image that considers humans in nature, foregoing ideas of defining the two in terms of objectivity and subjectivity, and focusing instead on building exchange and dialogue between the two.

Human-nature synergies in Bhitai’s text thus play an active role in breaking down binaries, suggesting more nuanced approaches to understanding how people position themselves in relation to nature.

In Risalo’s weather stories, we find descriptions of salubrious seasonal rains, intense winds during the summers, and distressing droughts, all of which are expanded on through story arcs of characters such as Sassi and Punhoo, and how their internal states paralleled the environments they inhabited — something that Anderson (2005) described as “weather wisdom”.

Sasui and Punhoo’s characters are also manifested through descriptions of light and shade, darkness and overcast clouds, and most prominently, the sun.

In many verses, shade refers to darkness and light refers to sunshine. Sasui’s emotional state during her struggle to find Punhoo is articulated through the intensity of the weather which leads to the destruction of mountains and burning of trees, rendering the environment uninhabitable.

Among the most prominent themes that emerge in Risalo’s text is that of struggle and hardship, and how those are negotiated using metaphors of heat.

Sasui’s character in particular epitomises struggle, particularly in her quest to find her love Punhoo.

Bhitai elaborates on her agony through descriptions of the prevailing topography of Sindh in the 17th century — the resounding echo of the arid Baloch mountains; the dry, hot, sandy air wafting in the Thar desert; and the suffocating smoke in the city of Bhombore, which he likens to hell.

Sasui’s overarching emotional state throughout her contests are elaborated through her perceptions of the weather that surrounds her, one characterised by the harshness of the sun as it strains her body, blurring distinctions between internal and external perceptions:

While the journey of hardships continues, Sasui musters her strength through her connection with the weather. As her tortuous expedition continues, she fortifies herself with the thought, “you have to keep moving all the time, be it bitter cold or blazing heat”.

In Sur Sasui, the sun is shown as a significant source of the hardship; the sun’s heat exacerbates the beloved’s experiences by making her exceedingly sweaty.

From the heat released from the burning ground, to the feeling of suffocation resulting from the hot winds, for Sasui to cope with the loss of Punhoo, she must prevail through the distress she is subjected to by her environment. Her struggles of love are inseparable from her struggles with the heat.

Sasui lays down in the grove and waits for the perspiration to dry up, just as she tries to remain patient in her search.

On her struggle, Agha writes in his analysis of Shah jo Risalo: “Sasui feels that life without the beloved is gratuitous. Nay, it is a prison worse than hell. She must, therefore, seek reunion with her beloved Punhoo. She is undoubtedly oppressed by the love’s fire, the sun’s heat, the arduous and perilous journey”.

Beyond expressing emotional states through metaphors of heat and weather, Bhitai’s poetry discusses assiduously the economic implications of weather patterns, laying particular emphasis on monsoon rainfalls — a longstanding symbol of hope and prosperity in Sindh.

Aside from experiential understandings, weather is established as a geographical agent, binding spaces across continents under its directional and non-directional movement.

Bhitai especially considers the unequivocal importance of water in his descriptions of economic security:

Rather than making forced attempts to define and patronise weather, these descriptions offer on the ground interactions with the environment that were commonplace in the region. In terms of everyday human experience, weather takes expression through practices, habits, routine, and conversations.

Notably, the only reference to fear in Sur Sarang is made in reference to rain, and it is from the perspective of widowed women.

Widowed women’s helplessness during the rain is compounded by the lack of aid and support from male guardians.

Risalo’s engagement with the gendered implications of monsoon rains shows the use of weather imaginations to address wider cultural norms and concerns, simultaneously complicating the season’s assumed role as a driver of prosperity:

How weather is spoken about has evolved drastically, not only in terms of long-lasting atmospheric changes, but also in the way that people position themselves in their environments, oscillating between conversations about its mystique and mundanity.

It is curious that a strong interest in weather has only now reemerged — under discourses of fear and disasters — in the age of the Anthropocene.

Revitalising stories and narratives of weather that centre around embodied experiences of atmospheric conditions might, we propose, be a starting point for reexamining our fears, and understanding where we stand now, in our weathered environments.

Acknowledgements: This blog is the output of a 3-year project, Cool Infrastructures: Life with Heat in the Off-Grid City, funded by the United Kingdom’s Economic and Social Research Council (ESRC) as part of the Global Challenges Research Fund (GCRF). The publication can be accessed via the Edinburgh Research Archive. We thank Professor Nausheen H Anwar and Professor Jamie Cross for their suggestions and comments that helped improve the blog.

Atoofa Samo is a Senior Research Associate at the Karachi Urban lab. She explores how lower income groups take measures in informal ways to accommodate and react to extreme heat; what are the available resources, vernacular practices and indigenous knowledge through which people satisfy their necessities for cooling.

Aqdas Fatima is a Research Associate at Karachi Urban Lab. She holds a Bachelor of Science in Social and Biological Anthropology from the University of Kent. At KUL, she has been researching medical impacts and perceptions of heat, while also developing an anthropological understanding of heat through an exploration of language, localised cooling practices, and the various sociopolitical intersections of climate change.

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