...Of Mountains And The Melodies Therein

A month or so ago, I was in the deserts of Bahawalpur. Now I am in the vale of Swat, one of the most beautiful, and in the recent past, most volatile regions of the world. To be transplanted from a place where the average temperatures are in the high 40's to a place where there's still snow on the ridge-line is an interesting experience to say the least. It involved a whole lot of traveling in not a whole lot of time, as well as physical/mental readjustment of a significant nature. I happen to be inordinately fond of long road-trips and my car has stuck with me through thick and thin despite my very rudimentary driving skills, so the traveling bit wasn't an issue. The physical readjustment wasn't too difficult either because I spent half a week acclimatizing (and touching base with the family) in Murree which has a height and temperature slightly more temperate than Swat. The mental readjustment took some time, but with the help of my "Survival Kit" I managed to make the initial days here a tad more 'bardaasht-able'.

I have been here for a month and a half now, and expect to stay till sometime after the New Year at least. In the last five weeks my duties have led me across some of the most remote as well as the some of the most widely visited parts of Swat. To say that Swat is beautiful would be a gross understatement. It currently enjoys a restive peace after a couple of traumatic years, and the tourists - the primary source of the region's bread and butter - have begun to return in droves. During my travels in Swat, I've "enjoyed" a variety of living conditions and weather, and have had to pitch and roll my tent every few days or so. In a brilliant symbiotic relationship, I have kept my camera and my iPod charged and they have done likewise for me. The result is that I have the beginnings of a wonderful audiovisual travelogue of Swat. Whether it was the subconscious influence of my surroundings or an organic choice, what I listened to gradually became more in tune with what I saw or photographed. What follows is a series of selections from my audiovisual travelogue. As with the Bahawalpur post, the music here is of, from, or about the mountains.

Mountain Melodies - A Swat Playlist 

1. Saiyyan Bina Ghar Soona - Raag Pahadi - Ustad Salamat Ali - Nazakat Ali Khan
2. Hari Om Tatsat - Raag Pahadi - Ustad Barre Ghulam Ali Khan
3. Dhun - Raag Pahadi - Ustad Vilayat Khan

I should preface the post by admitting that I know next to nothing about the technical intricacies of North Indian classical music. I wouldn't be able to tell the difference between an Asavari and an Anandi if my life depended on it. It is a failing that I have tried to correct, but it'll take plenty of time. However, I can identify a few basic Ragas, Pahadi being one of them. It is an enchanting Raga, described by one musicologist; The raga is like a lover, unruffled in union, serene in separation, powerful enough to achieve eternal union, but resigned to the painful parting ordained by destiny. Ustad Salamat Ali Khan , despite once referring to it disdainfully as just a "halka phulka raag" , performed many extremely enchanting pieces in Pahadi. This playlist starts off with a wonderful little thumri by the two scions of the Shaam-Chaurasi Gharana, imbued with mellowness and longing.

This is followed by one of the very first pieces of Classical music I ever heard, and one of the most magical. I bought a CD of Ustad Barre Ghulam Ali Khan at my favorite record store / video store / abode of awesomeness , which sadly burnt to the ground four years ago. The very first track on the album was a stupendous Bhajan in Pahadi, and listening to it still gives me goosebumps. It immediately evokes something mystical, powerful and immortal, yet at the same time feels infused with the freshness and vitality of the mountains that are symbolized by the Raga.. The final Classical performance in this playlist is by my favorite Sitar-nawaz, Ustad Vilayat Khansaheb. Taken from a set of remastered 78 RPM recordings, this short 'Gat" displays Vilayat Khansaheb's unique ability to literally make the Sitar sing, the epitome of the "Vilayatkhani" or "Gayeki" style. Sounding almost like a folk tune, this piece is best enjoyed while sitting on the grassy banks of a mountain stream.

4. Blue Ridge Mountains - Fleet Foxes
5. Country Roads - John Denver
6. The Mountain - Levon Helm
7. Moonlight In Vermont - Billlie Holiday
8. Pinegum - Paul Reddick And The Sidemen

As these next five performances show, mountains evoke a set of similar themes throughout the world. There is a sense of longing, a sense of separation and a yearning for return pervading songs about mountains, along with a sense of mystery and wonder. The mountains in these songs are settings for tales of separation and return; of toil and hardship, of nature in its beauty, and of a very strange night. Fleet Foxes describe their music as "Cosmic tones for mental therapy", and provide immaculate harmonies as they sing of quivering forests and shivering darkness. John Denver's "Country Roads" was our official road-trip anthem, my father's favorite English song, and is one of the seminal songs of my life. "Drummers shouldn't sing. Except Levon Helm." said Joe Strummer, and one's bound to agree with him. Levon's last two albums are a triumph in more ways than one, and this ballad is one of the highlights. Moonlight In Vermont may refer to the titular US state, but the way Lady Day sings it here, it could refer to any sycamore-lined, meadowlark-populated valley anywhere. This recording from 1957 features the stupendous Ben Webster on tenor saxophone. And ending on a spooky, bluesy note, Paul Reddick and The Sidemen sing of a nighttime trip through a forest with a mysterious companion, amid snow, the scent of pinegum and a lacquer moon.

9. Isharon Isharon Main - Asha Bhosle And Muhammad Rafi - OP Nayyar
10. Yeh Dil Aur Unn Ki Nigaahon Ke Saaye - Lata Mangeshkar - Jaidev
11. Parbaton Ke Pairron Pe - Sumand Kalyanpur And Muhammad Rafi - Khayyam
12. Tum Apna Ranj-o-Gham - Jagjit Kaur - Khayyam 

The next four recordings are from some of the most amazing soundtracks of Bollywood's Golden Age. OP Nayyar's fresh, folk based and unbelievably melodic soundtrack to "Kashmir Ki Kali" is filled with gem after gem. Asha and Rafi add magic to Shammi Kapoor and Sharmila Tagore's playful cavort through the pine forest in a pure Pahadi folk-tune. Following this is Jaidev's wonderful composition for 1973's Prem Parbat. Jaidev is an oft overlooked composer, but here, with more than a little help from Lata, he allows the mountains, the streams and flowers to sing their song in their own words. The next two songs are from the soundtrack to 1964's "Shagoon" by Khayyam. The first song is as perfect an evocation of the mountains as I've ever heard, the castanets literally chirping in the background. The second is a stunning song, part accusation - part lament - part love song, sung by Khayyam's very gifted wife, Jagjit Kaur. Of all the classic Bollywood songs, these four were on most heavy rotation this past month and a half, and the reason is obvious I think.

13. Ajj Na Javeen Ve - Mubarak Ali Lahori - Agha Majeed Fareedi Qawwal
14. Saif-ul-Mulook - Inayat Hussain Bhatti   

I had to pick a Qawwali recording for the playlist, and I chose this mehfil performance by two relatively obscure but immensely talented performers because, musically and lyrically, this performance brings Pahadi to life. The beloved is leaving, with only the weather and the pleadings of the lover tarrying him. It has a rich Potohari flavour, with glimpses of the Do-Aba style of Punjabi singing, and I've listened to it many a rainy, stormy night. From the folk canon, I have selected a recording of THE seminal mountain epic in subcontinental Sufi poetry, Hz Mian Muhammad Bukhsh (RA)'s Saif-ul-Mulook. This recording from a delightful cassette features the monumental voice of one of my personal heroes, Inayat Hussain Bhatti. Each word, each cadence of the poem is soaked in mountain dew, and Bhatti Sb's magnificent voice brings it to life. 

15. Star Dust - Lester Young With The Oscar Peterson Trio
16. Winter - Edward Simon Trio  

The two jazz recordings that conclude this playlist are very special to me. As soon as I arrived in Swat, I was sent to a remote valley, where there were ten of us living in an abandoned building located next to a mountain stream. There were no sources of artificial light for miles around, and for almost two weeks I was almost totally cut off from the rest of the world. The beauty of the place and the sound of gushing water nearby made the days extremely pleasant, but it was at night that the place truly came alive. An hour or so after Iftar (it was Ramazan back then), a group of locals would gather near the stream next to our building and sing local folksongs, accompanying themselves on the Rubab. Almost simultaneously, the stars would begin appearing in the night sky. I had never seen such a wonderful sky in my life, and for the first time in my life, I actually saw the band of stars that form the Milky Way, our galaxy. After the musicians would leave, I would listen to these two recordings on repeat, and watch as the stars wound their way across the night sky. Most nights I fell asleep with the music still playing in my ears, and I can still hear a faint tinkle of it whenever I look up into the mountain sky. In the first, Lester Young plays with unbelievable feeling and restraint while Oscar Peterson offers faint glimmers of starlight in the background. Lester Young is one of my favorite jazz musician and here he turns the Tenor Sax into a living, breathing creation. The final recording (pardon the poor audio, I recorded it off the late Masood Hasan's wonderful radio show) is by a group that I haven't heard much by. It evokes all the various shades of mountain life; the streams and breezes, the children playing up and down steep mountain tracks, the buzzing of the bees in the honey-farms, the gently falling snow of winter and the sudden torrents of spring. 


Mountain Melodies - A Swat Playlist

That was the audio part of my audiovisual travelogue, and to end this post, here's the visual part, a selection from the photos I took over the last five weeks.

The Great Roadtrip - Of Patron Saints And Ghost Towns

It is now almost a year since I undertook what turned out to be the greatest road-trip of my life. The term 'voyage of discovery' might be a cliche but that's certainly how I will describe the week or so of traveling that I did in South and Central Punjab last September. What with one thing or the other, I've never gotten around to properly writing about it and sharing some of the experiences, sights and sounds of those six or seven days. But the leisure afforded me by my current location has trumped my innate laziness and I've decided it's about time I got around to it. My memory might be clouded over by the year gone by, but I still remember enough to get the writing juices flowing, and armed with the hundreds of photos I took with my crummy cellphone camera, I think I can finally shape the account of my great roadtrip into something resembling a coherent narrative.

Like every good story, this one begins with a prelude. I had been in Dera Ghazi Khan working in the flood relief efforts for over three weeks and was itching for a break. The workload, though heavy, wasn't the reason I was raring at the bit. I had planned a great deal of sightseeing in and around Dera Ghazi Khan and wasn't getting any chance of going about it. Although the evenings were usually free but travel restrictions meant that I wasn't able to see anything more than the one odd place of interest that happened to be in one of the villages where I'd set up a medical camp. An abortive attempt was made to visit the Sakhi Sarwar shrine; an attempt that turned into something resembling a farce on wheels starring a car that could only go one kilometer at a time before stopping to pant and wheeze, a tape deck that insisted on playing lewd Naseebo Lal songs and a driver that could only understand Pushto, which neither of the passengers could speak.

It was with great relief and a fair bit of excitement that I greeted the announcement that the entire party of around a dozen people would be taking a day off and going on a roadtrip to the nearby hilltop town of Fort Munro, with a stopover at the Sakhi Sarwar shrine. My sightseeing plans were finally starting to see fruition as the traveling party rode out on the Dera Ghazi Khan-Quetta highway. As an aside i would like to mention that I have seen around two dozen cities and innumerable towns all over Pakistan and I have never seen a place that depressed me more than Dera Ghazi Khan. A district headquarter, DG Khan looked more like, I hate to admit it, a pigsty. All the main roads were muddy ditches, the traffic was horrible, the city was skirted by a huge and foul smelling sewerage nullah and the whole place had a weirdly oppressive air. The immense relief I felt at being out on the open highway, away from the mud and congestion of DG Khan cannot be described in words. The road ran through wide plains that slowly rolled up into rocky hills where the road got a little treacherous.

The first stop was the town of Sakhi Sarwar around twenty miles down the road from DG Khan, housing the shrine of Hazrat Sakhi Sarwar (R.A), the patron saint of all travelers, which was rather fitting now that I look back on it. The shrine was located deep inside the town so we parked the cars at a distance and walked through the narrow alleyways towards the shrine. As we got closer, I was greeted by the sight that I would become familiar with in the course of trips to dozens of other shrines; a shrine bazaar. On either side of the path leading upto the shrine entrance were shops selling flowers, multicolored chadars, semiprecious gemstones and 'makhaanas'; the tiny white sweetmeat that is traditionally distributed as tabarruk. The entrance to the shrine comprised a large two-story facade with a central entryway flanked with two yellow-painted panels. The upper story had three beautifully decorated overhanging balconies. The courtyard had a neem tree in the centre and was flanked on one side with a centuries old mosque and on the other by a row of 'hujras'. Facing the entrance was the main shrine complex, with a long covered enclave and a single door leading to the tombs of the saints. The entire courtyard was bordered by an underhanging ledge adorned by beautiful painted tile that is South Punjab's speciality.


 The enclave was covered by a wooden roof that had beautiful geometric patterns adorning it in a design that I was later to see at shrines in Ucch Shareef, Multan and Lahore.Inside the tombs there was relative darkness and the unmistakeable scent of incense and rosewater. There were a number of small graves of some of the Saint's disciples and followers, and in the eastern corner of the tomb, the graves of the Saint himself and his sons. We paid our respects and then wandered around into a small room that adjoined the main tomb. Here sat an old man wearing tattered robes who would swat us each with what looked like a bouquet of peacock feathers and demand a rather hefty sum for the priviledge. It was an insight into the rather unusual system of commerce that thrives in and around shrines. After a further bit of wandering, including a futile search for the spot where Guru Nanak Saheb was supposed to have stayed when he made a pilgrimage to the Sakhi Sarwar shrine, we left for our second and final destination for the day, the town of Fort Munro.

Fort Munro is an historically important town. The seat of the government agent in the colonial times, it marked the eastern boundary of the Baloch lands and was the site of a small fort that housed a military garrison. After Balochistan's accession with Pakistan , Fort Munro served as the residence of the political agent. It was supposed to be South Punjab's answer to Murree, a temperate hill-station in the middle of the plains that offered a respite from the weather for the wealthy and the well-to-do. what it turned out to be was something quite the opposite. I'd seen ghost-towns in films and on TV, now was my chance to see one for myself. As we wound up the surprisingly tricky climb, we couldn't see a single inhabitant. There were houses, shops, motels, roadside dhaabas and pan-shops. There just wasn't anyone in them. In a town whose population should've been at least five or ten thousand, we couldn't find a single person.

This inexplicable lack of inhabitants wasn't the only eerie thing about Fort Munro. As we reached the crest of the hill, we saw to our right a body of water too large to be a pond and too small to be a lake. It had a small pier on one of the banks and had a dark, murky and somewhat sinister look. Coming to the top of the main hill, there was a fair-sized plateau that housed a park, remnants of an old fort, deserted government offices and to complete the ghost-town decor, an old colonial era graveyard. Naturally, we made a beeline for the graveyard. There were around a dozen graves, great and small, belonging to the military personnel and their families who inhabited the fort nearly a century ago. This graveyard proved to be the most interesting place we visited in Fort Munro for a number of reasons.

The first grave that caught my eye was that of a brother in arms, quite literally. Horace Allenby Smith was a military surgeon and a Fellow of the Royal Society in the days when it really meant something. The thought of that poor army doctor lying buried thousands of miles from his home in a godforsaken piece of rocky ground on top of a desolate mountain put a lot of things in perspective. There were graves of two or three little children who had drowned in the lake we'd seen earlier. And there was another grave which clearly showed signs of having been opened recently. All in all, the perfect setting for an episode of the Twilight Zone or one of those cheap TV movies they make based on Stephen King stories.


Needless to say, the entire traveling party was thoroughly spooked at that point, so much in fact that when we saw the first living thing we'd seen the entire trip; a goat on a mountain ledge, we half expected it to sprout some wings and come swooping down on us Nazgul style. Thankfully it didn't and even more thankfully we managed to catch the thing. And having caught it we did the civilized thing,  namely slaughtered, barbecued and feasted on Herr Goat. After a pwopah meal, the kind that dispels the spookies and puts courage into the hearts of men, we set about exploring again. Not that it did us any good, a deserted colonial era cricket pitch-cum-tennis court being the only thing we saw. It was then that we decided to call it a day on the trip and head back. The highlight of the return trip was a sing along. Trust me, you haven't lived till you've heard a fifty year old Pashtun gentleman belt out 'Bailamos' in a pushto accent.

The trip to sakhi Sarwar and Fort Munro wasn't entirely what I'd envisioned it to be, but it was very important to me in that it proved to be the starting point for all my subsequent explorations and photographing excursions. Three days later I left Dera Ghazi Khan for Multan which was the first stop on my Great Road Trip and when I returned home ten days later, I had traveled nearly 2000 miles and a discovered a new facet to my life.

...Of My Favorite Qawwali So Far 2.0

Two and a half years ago I was introduced to, rather re-introduced to what has since become an obsession of mine; Qawwali. My overarching fascination with this art has led me to become an ardent (albeit amateur) student of Sufism and spirituality as well as provided me with hours upon hours of pure listening pleasure. One of the positive effects of this has been to allow me to write about the various artists , recordings and kalaams that have touched me deeply. On the flip-side, my desire to express in words as well share this passion of mine has turned this into something of a niche blog with the result that I've managed to reduce my already slim readership even further. However, that is of no concern as long as I am able to express and share even a fraction of the joy that Qawwali has brought me.

A year and a half ago, I undertook an exercise whereby I listened to all the versions I had of what was my favorite Kalaam at that time, Hazrat Bu Ali Qalandar (R.A)'s "Manam Mehve Khayaale Oo" and attempted to compare and contrast the performance styles of some of the greatest Qawwals of our time. Over time I've discovered many new artists and new recordings that have reiterated my belief that Qawwali is mainly a performer's art. The repertoire is vast and the opportunities for modification and innovation limitless, hence like Jazz, it's the performer's style that ultimately moulds a performance and contributes to it's aural and spiritual impact. I've also realized that the term "favorite Qawwali" is an oxymoron. However, there are some pieces that are definitely closer to the heart than others, and currently, the kalaam I've been constantly listening to over the past month or so is that immortal Na'at of Maulana Jami (R.A)'s, Nasima, Jaanibe Bat'ha Guzar Kun.

نسیما ! جانب بطحا گزر کن

زا حوالم محمد را خبر کن 

 بہ حال مبتلاے غم  نظر کن

علاج درد دل اے چارہ گر کن 

توئی سلطان عالم یا محمد
  زروئے لطف سوئے من نظر کن

بہ برایں جان مشتاقم بہ آنجا
   فدائے روضہ خیر البشر کن

 مشرف گرچہ شد جامی زلطفش
خدایا ! ایں کرم با ر دگر کن

    

O morning breeze! set out towards Bat'haa,

Inform Muhammad (S.A.W) of my plight

Cast your eye towards one who is afflicted with sorrow

O healer, find a cure for this aching heart

 Muhammad (S.A.W); you, who are the Emperor of both worlds

Cast your graceful, blessed glance towards me

It is the desire of this eager soul of mine

To sacrifice itself upon your final abode

Although you have showered your grace on Jami

In God's name, grant him this favor once again.

Maulana Nur ad-Din Abd ar-Rahman Jami (R.A) was one of the foremost Persian mystics and poets. His works include the "Bahaaristan", the biographical treatise "Nafaahat-al-Uns", his masterpiece "Haft Aurang" and his version of the classical Persian romantic epic "Leili wa Majnun". He was an ardent lover of the Prophet (S.A.W) and expressed his love in some of the most beautiful Na'ats in the Persian language, among them Tanam Farsooda Jaanpara, Gul Az Rukhat Aamookhta , Ya Muhammad Ba Mane Be Saro Samaan Madaday, and of course, Nasima, Jaanibe Bat'haa Guzar Kun. An apocryphal Sufi tradition offers a stirring example of Jami's love for the Prophet (S.A.W) as follows,

"It so happened that once this ‘ishq' was at its peak and poor Jami became restless. He composed a wonderful naat in the praise of Allah’s Habib and in the agony of love made a vow to recite that very poem in front of the Prophet’s Mausoleum in Madina. So, gathering some of his many disciples with him, he set off on the long and arduous journey to fulfil his vow.

After many a month of travel, the caravan led by the Imam of Love, Abdul Rahman Jami, reached the outskirts of the City of the Prophet and Madina was only a few miles journey away. As they camped for the day, they saw a rider on a horse coming towards them at a galloping pace. The strange rider stopped in their midst and asked the group, “Which of you is Jami?” The disciples pointed out Jami and said, “That is our leader, Shaykh Imam Abdul Rahman Jami!” So the rider guided his horse towards Jami and, alighting, greeted Jami with the words, “Assalamu alaykum!”

  “Wa alaykum as-salam! Who are you? Where are you from and why are you here?” asked the venerable Sufi.   

“Jami, I have come here from Madina!”

At the mention of these words the lover of the Prophet (sal Allahu alayhi wa sallam), Jami, took off his turban and placed it the feet of the stranger saying, “May I be sacrificed for these feet!  They have come from the city of my Prophet!”
 
Jami continued, “Good sir! Tell me, why have you come?”
 
The man went silent for a while and then answered, “Jami what I am going to tell you, you must promise to hear it with a stout heart.”

 “I will”, said a slightly bemused Jami, “but tell me!”   

“Jami”, continued the rider, “I have been sent to you by the Prophet (Sall’Allahu Ta’ala Alayhi Wa’alihi Wa’sallam) himself"

“Tell me! What does my Master say?” interjected Jami. 

“Jami, the Prophet (Sall’Allahu Ta’ala Alayhi Wa’alihi Wa’sallam) has sent me to tell you that he has forbidden you to enter Madina and visit him!”    

At these words Jami was thunderstruck, his head swam and his legs gave way beneath him and with an agonised shriek the Shaykh fell to the ground in a swoon. The disciples were terrified that their Shaykh had passed away but after many hours Jami came back to a state of consciousness and he wept copiously.    The messenger was still there and Jami asked him, “Tell me O’ bringer of such tidings! Why does my Master prevent me from entering Madina? What sin have I committed? Why is my Medinan Lord angry with me?” 

The messenger replied,”the Master is not upset with you. Indeed, he is very happy with you!”.

"Then why does my liege-lord prevent me from visiting him?” 

“Jami! The Prophet(Sall’Allahu Ta’ala Alayhi Wa’alihi Wa’sallam) said to me that tell Jami that if he comes to Madina with such love in his heart I will have no course but to come out of my tomb and greet him in person – such would be the recompense for his love! – so tell him not to enter Madina. I will visit him myself! Tell Jami not to come and visit me – I will visit him!”

                             ....................................................................................


Naseema was one of the first kalaams I heard on that wonderful evening two and a half years ago when I was re-introduced to Qawwali. I clearly remember sitting in my friend's dorm room. He had just played me one of Munshi Raziuddin's recordings and I hadn't recovered yet when he said, "Lain Musab bhai, yeh sunain" and played for me Manzoor Ahmed Niazi and Party's version of "Naseema". I listened intently to the initial doha, and the moment the "Kun" of the first verse hit what we call the tabla's 'summ', I was transported!

Manzoor Ahmed Niazi Qawwal

It was later that I found out that Naseema was one of the Manzoor Niazi Party's most famous Qawwalis, however it was the first time I was listening to Manzoor Niazi sahab and I was immediately struck by the unique mellowness and soft timbre of his voice. The ravages of age were apparent but it was still carrying the performance along beautifully. Abdullah Manzoor Niazi's powerful and very melodious voice perfectly complemented his father's. (In my opinion, Abdullah Manzoor Naizi's party, along with the Farid Ayaz ensemble are currently the two best Qawwali ensembles in Pakistan). I listened to the performance again and again over the coming days and weeks in my dorm room and constantly hummed the beautiful arrangement.

The Manzoor Niazi party's performance remains one of my most favorite Qawwalis because of it's stirring arrangement, the wonderful little takraars that the Qawwals interject at the end of each verse and the Qawwals' beautiful adayegi, Manzoor Niazi Sb's being especially appealing.

As I listened to more and more recordings and delved deeper into the Qawwali idiom, I found that Naseema was part of the repertoire of most Qawwal parties, with most following the same arrangement as the Manzoor Ahmed Niazi party. I also discovered that the kalaam had the greatest impact when it was performed at a gentle, stately tempo, almost like the gentle early morning breeze that was being addressed in it. Again, various Qawwals performed it in their own styles, using a variety of Girahs and Takraars to bring out the various emotional aspects of the kalaam, from gentle pleading to desperation to resignation to hope.

Haji Mehboob Ali Qawwal

A performance that takes the gentle and stately route is by Haji Mehboob Ali Qawwal and Haji Mushtaq Ali Qawwal at Golra Shareef. (A rare photograph of Haji sahab is attached, many thanks to the personage who allowed me to post it) A steady tempo, no girahs or takraars, just the two brothers accompanied by tabla and Haji saheb himself on Sitar. Mehboob Qawwal was known to perform two versions of Naseema, one unadorned and the other with "Tazmeen", where each verse is accompanied by a versified translation in Urdu and Seraiki in the same metre as the original. It served the purpose of Wa'az that Haji saheb was justly famous for. I have a recording of that version in my archives and might post it when I have the requisite permission. The unadorned version however, is beautiful in it's simplicity and the meandering, mellifluous arrangement with the Qawwals singing it with the utmost 'Ihteraam', bringing out the innate musicality of the kalaam.

Rasheed Ahmed Fareedi Qawwal

I have previously expressed my admiration of Rasheed Ahmed Fareedi, one of the greatest Qawwals of his age who remains undiscovered by a large audience largely because like Haji Mehboob Qawwal, he was primarily a Darbari Qawwal who didn't release any recordings commercially. A 'shagird' of Fateh Ali Khan, he was known for his emotive and powerful vocal style and his highly talented and disciplined party. He used girahs to great effect and his performances were known for their gradual increase in tempo, long, sustained takraars and complicated behlaawas and sargams. His version of Nasima contains brilliant examples of all these.Despite my best efforts however, the quality of the recording doesn't do justice to the performance that starts out slow, with a rather measured tempo. The first highlight is the takraar at the 3:20 minute mark that temporarily energizes the piece before gently ebbing back to the original tempo, followed immediately by another takraar. A number of apt girahs including  "Har kas vaseela daarad" and "Man Keestam" punctuate this takraar of the first verse. As the tempo gathers pace, Fareedi sahab and his Hamnavaas unleash a torrent of Girahs and Behlawaas before again slowing down at the 18:20 mark.

Each of the subsequent verses is similarly embellished, with the next major takraar coming near the end of the piece at the phrase "Tu-ee Sultaan". The last third of the performance is especially moving for it's use of some very beautiful Girahs from Punjabi Sufi poets including Bulleh Shah, Hazrat Sultan Bahu and Shah Ali Haider all inserted into a rousing takraar of "Ya Muhammad". The performance carries on at the same breakneck pace, each verse being repeatedly emphasized, with the final takraar a brief one at "Een Karam", after which the Qawwali culminates. Although the quality of the recording greatly hampers the enjoyment of this piece, it is a stirring rendition, and one of my favorites.

Ustad Fateh Ali-Mubarak Ali Qawwals And Party

A mention of the 'shagird' naturally leads to the ustaad, with the next recording being of those giants of Qawwali, Ustad Fateh Ali- Mubarak Ali Qawwal. The two brothers were pioneers, popularizers and innovators par excellence in the field of Qawwali. With Fateh Ali's higher register and emphatic delivery perfectly complemented by his brother's vocal dexterity, they were the pre-eminent Qawwal ensemble of the 40's, 50's and early '60s till Fateh Ali Khan's untimely death. Nusrat's style, as well as that of their many Shagirds, carries echoes of this power-house group's performance idiom.

In this very rare recording, the party is accompanied by Sarangi and flute and both brothers beautifully display their vocal dexterity. Mubarak Ali's taans punctuate the Qawwali at regular intervals while Fateh Ali emphasizes the text with choice Girahs. The beautiful girah at 'Dard-e-dil' is the first of these, quickly followed by beautiful improvisation by Mubarak Ali. The following verses are similarly embellished with alaaps, girahs and brief takraars with the sarangi and flute in the background proving a beautiful counterpoint to the vocalists. The tempo remains steady throughout each verse. Mubarak Ali performs one final feat of vocal virtuosity near the end and the performance ends without the tempo flagging for an instant.

Bakhshi, Salamat Qawwal And Party

The final performance in this piece is by another talented 'Shagird' of Fateh Ali-Mubarak Ali Qawwals, the preternaturally gifted party of  Bakhshi,Salamat Qawwal Party. In my opinion, the Qawwals most similar in style to Fateh Ali Mubarak Ali were the Bakhshi Salamat party, with an especially similar emphatic style.If I were to choose a current favorite among the various versions of 'Naseema", this would be it. It starts of with a beautiful Clarinet sazeena that is both mellow and full-bodied. the baaja next takes over with the main melody line and the vocals commence with an alaap.

Bakhshi Khan starts with a unique doha ; a verse each in Farsi and Urdu. The almost pleading, aching, lament-like delivery of these two verses is very beautiful. The first verse of the kalaam proper is punctuated in a similar style, with Salamat Khan's phrasing ( Jaaa- NIBE) eliciting the kalaam's poignant theme of longing for the land of the beloved Prophet (S.A.W). The next verse is embellished with brief takraars and alaaps, with the second hemistitch repeated over and over before Bakhshi Khan inserts two girahs, pausing before and emphasising the last words of each in such a way that the desperation and intense longing of the poet is apparent ('Jab dard diya tum ne, phir tum hi dawaa.......KARNA!', ' Ba haale mubtelaae man nazar.....KUN').

The second highlight comes at the takraar of the second hemistitch of the third verse where the Qawwals modify the original text into "Be raahe lutf" and launch into a beautiful takraar punctuated by Bakhshi Khan's cries of 'Aye Ji!'. The final verse sees a takraar of 'Een karam' as the poet pleads his case with growing desperation, before finally, resignedly entrusting the morning breeze, - the Naseem - his message in the hope that it will reach the land of the Prophet (S.A.W) and his pleas will one day be heard.

There are many other versions of this immortal kalaam, both by Qawwals as well as Naatkhwaans, however I've restricted myself to my five most favorite versions. What's obvious in all these performances is how each Qawwal's individual style highlights the various aspects of Jami's kalam and how a single piece of Sufi poetry, despite being moulded and adapted by different Qawwals, still retains it's original message that Jami entrusted to the morning breeze centuries ago.

P.S Apologies for the rather shoddy translation, my Farsi's still at a rather primitive stage.

Cover Stories - Of Pir Adil, The Place That Started It All

One of the reasons I consider my one month flood relief duty in Dera Ghazi Khan the most exciting and probably most memorable one month of my life is that along with working my socks off in the relief efforts for most of the month, I also managed to squeeze in five or six days of hardcore exploration and travel. Most of this exploration was carried out in a four day whirlwind tour that had me covering 1500 kilomketres and visiting five or six cities in what has since come to be known as the "Great Road Trip". There were however one or two detours that I made before that, on what can be called 'company time'.

 On my way to DG Khan from Multan at the start of my duty, I looked up places of interest in and around DG Khan (a thoroughly fruitless and dispiriting exercise) One name kept popping up repeatedly, the village of Pir Adil. It was a village  to the north of DG Khan, around 12 km from our base camp. The village housed a Sufi shrine, there wasn't much more I could find out about the place however. It was obviously the shrine of a Sufi saint, but it wasn't obvious what distinguished it from the innumerable others that dotted the landscape. The shrine was of one Pir Adil Shah Bukhari , a 9th century Chishti saint. That, and a vague idea of it's location gleaned from Google Maps was all the information I had about this place.

Our daily ambulance trips to and from Medical camps were more or less a rambling caravan that pitched it's tents wherever we felt we were needed. We had no restrictions of distance or time and there was an almost limitless supply of fuel. This meant we travelled far and wide, covering a radius of almost ninety kilometers, spending eight or nine hours in the field everyday. Usually the trips were pretty straightforward; base camp to medical camp and then back again with no detours along the way. After a week or so, this spartan routine started becoming tedious. I was eager to get some exploring under my belt but wasn't able to get any time off. In addition, my routes usually took me away from the one or two places that were worth seeing, including the Pir Adil shrine.

Around the seventh day of our Medical camps however, we were told to pitch camp at the Dera Ghazi Khan Cement factory, around 14km North-west of the main city. Looking up the place on Google Maps (an app that more than earned it's Official Seal Of Awesomeness  over the course of my South Punjab adventure), I found that the route led me pretty close to the village of Pir Adil. I figured this was as good a chance as any to visit the place. After finishing up the day's camp at the Cement factory, I sent one of the ambulances ahead of me so it could take the remaining supplies and the less footloose of the support staff back to the basecamp while I set out in the other to find the village of Pir Adil.

It turned out to be a pretty straightforward path in the end. As the map shows, heading north from the Pakistan Chowk on the Indus Highway for a distance of 8 miles brings you to the Cement Factory chowk. A further 2 miles bring one to a crossroads with a direction pointer showing the way towards Pir Adil due East. A straight metalled track leads to the village a mile down the road.

View Pir Adil Shrine in a larger map

About half a mile before the shrine, as the magnificent white-and-blue tiled dome of the shrine emerged on the horizon,I finally understood what distinguished the place from the countless other shrines all over DG Khan. Driving into the village, all of us in the ambulance let out a collective gasp as we rounded a turn and the shrine came into view. I hadn't yet been to the magnificent shrines in Multan and Ucch Sharif yet, so this was my first exposure to the "Multani" style of architecture, and I was floored by what I saw. At the edge of a large graveyard, surrounded by four low walls, with an impromptu trinket market outside it, stood the tomb of Pir Adil Shah Bukhari. It was a magnificent building, at first sight very similar to the pictures I had seen of the Shah Rukn-e-Alam tomb in Multan.

A quadrangular building ,with a hexagonal second storey topped by a beautiful dome, it dominates the landscape of the surrounding village. The eastern edges are rounded off by cylindrical bastions topped by a small minaret each with a lotus pattern on top. The westerly bastions are more intricately designed, with hollow mehraab-like depressions along their lengths and a slightly larger lotus atop the minarets. The exterior walls are decorated by beautiful yet simple blue-glazed tiles in geometric patterns that vary on each wall. On some there is a crisscrossing brick lattice adorned with blue tiles in the centre of the lattice-work. On others there are groups of geometric patterns ascending the walls in ordered groups. The southern entrance - the one facing the graveyard - has a vertical row of three depressed arches on either side. The eastern entrance is larger and opens into the courtyard of the shrine. Topped by an overhanging ledge, with rows of mehraabs around it, it's a beautiful structure. Three horizontal filigrees circle the four walls on the first floor, with three more on the hexagonal drum that forms the second floor. The edges of the hexagon are topped with slender white minarets that encircle the large white central dome. It was a rather compact but extremely beautiful building and I spent a lot of time admiring it's various details from the outside before entering the shrine itself.

Entering the shrine from the direction of the graveyard, I was immediately struck by something that I'd later realize was characteristic of most of the shrines I'd visit - an overwhelming sense of calm. It was semi-dark and very cool, with a breeze blowing through the open doors. One or two gentlemen were sitting inside the shrine, praying, one of whom I struck up an entertaining conversation with. Sunk into one of the walls was a mehraab decorated in intricate glazed tile that probably served as a prayer spot. Above the mehraab were two quatrains painted on the walls. One was a chronogram that revealed that the interior of the shrine had been repaired in 1343 A.H. the other was a Persian couplet that was faded and thus couldn't be read properly. Between the two inscriptions was a simple floral pattern.

The final resting place of the Pir was right below the dome, which was simply in ornamented from the interior. There were one or two relics, including an inscription on a stone tablet written in Arabic. There was another inscription on a piece of ivory that was well nigh illegible, however the date 1053 A.H was clearly visible at the bottom left.A stone slab with the imprint of a foot was kept in a glass case. The custodians claimed that it was a footprint of the Prophet (S.A.W) that Hazrat Jalaluddin Bukhari, also known as Hazrat Jahanian Jahangasht (R.A) had brought with him from Makkah. the inscription above the print also claimed as such. The Pir's lady wife was buried right next to the main shrine in a smaller chamber which I found at the corner of the courtyard. It was a small domed building, the corner of which was jutting into the courtyard through the walls.Older photographs (rarer than hen's teeth) reveal that it was a small, simple square white structure topped with a dome

I stayed at the shrine for around an hour or so but the ambulance driver and the rest of the staff were getting testy about delaying their lunch, so I had to reluctantly leave. We all bought a few sweetmeats from the stalls outside the shrine as well as distributed some of the remaining medicines and then departed towards the base camp. I was genuinely moved by what was my first visit to a shrine since childhood, and I'm sure the experience of visiting Pir Adil was catalytic in my resurgent interest in and affection for Sufi Shrines. After that brief visit to Pir Adil, I've travelled all over Punjab, paying my respects at many other shrines and tombs, and everywhere I've felt the same ambience, the same feeling of spiritual serenity that I experienced for the first time at that tiny, hidden away tomb outside Dera Ghazi Khan- the tomb of Pir Adil.

P.S The account of my first exploratory trip should I think be soundtracked by what is the da-facto National anthem of the Seraiki belt. In my favorite version of this immortal folk melody; the late, great Pathanay Khan sings the Rohi.

...Of Little Afghanistan And Its Patron Saint

I never spare an opportunity to offer unsolicited testimonials to that most wonderful of inventions, Google Maps. From my pilgrimage to Rehmat Gramophone House in Faisalabad to my travels across South Punjab, I've relied on Google Maps, and it's never let me down. A few of the places I've visited in Lahore have caused my acquaintances to exclaim, "I've lived in Lahore for 30 years and I haven't even heard of that place. How on earth did you manage to find it?" or variations thereof. The answer of course, is Google Maps. Due to the voluntary efforts of a team of dedicated digital cartographers, I've been able to feast my eyes on some of the most remarkable places in Pakistan.

While I was scouring the maps for places of interest in the Begumpura area of Lahore, a name caught my eye - Khwaja Mehmud's Tomb. I must confess I hadn't heard of the personage before. Google wasn't able to provide me with much information either, except for telling me that Khwaja Saheb's tomb was an architectural masterpiece and a well preserved relic of the Mughal times. So on my recent trip to Begumpura, I decided to follow Google Maps' instructions and look up the elusive tomb. What I had gathered online was that Khwaja Mehmood - also known as Shah Eishan - was that the saint lived during the reigns of Jehangir and Shahjehan and hence was a contemporary of Hazrat Mian Mir (RA).

After visiting the Gulabi Darwaza and the tomb of Dai Anga (which will be written about in a future post hopefully), I took a detour into Begumpura and after navigating a few winding streets, came across the tomb. Adjoined by a mosque and a graveyard (the usual accroutements of a Sufi shrine) and a well-kept park, the tomb stands tucked away between residences and shops. A gaggle of small children were playing near its walls, looked over by a bunch of benevolent elders smoking chillums and playing cards. The whole place gave an aura of isolated serenity that I've rarely felt at other places in Lahore.

Shah Mehmud's tomb is surrounded by residences on three sides, with the fourth occupied by a beautiful park. The tomb is architecturally similar to the rather austere tombs of Hazrat Bahauddin Zikriya, except that it's painted white rather than the tile-decorated red brick of the former. Maybe it's been that way since it's construction, but I think the white colour is the result of our recent penchant for whitewashing everything that we see. A three-story octagonal building topped by a dome, it's an massive structure. The walls are inset with sunken mehraabs, each having tiered trellises that stream light into the interior. The tops of the walls are adorned by 8 slim minarets.

The dome itself is an imposing structure, around 20 feet in diameter with tiered rows of square holes, probably for ventilation and light. Like most of the other buildings in the area, I suspect this tomb also features a "dome within a dome" with the inner dome serving an ornamental function. A filligree pattern runs along the circumference of the dome and it's top is crowned by a large minaret. Pigeons roost in the crevices and ventilation shafts of this 15 foot high dome that can be seen from afar.

A semi-subterranean passageway leads to the absolutely beautiful interior. The rather austere exterior doesn't prepare one for the interior, which is a riot of light and colour. The Saint's final resting place occupies the central position and a chandelier hangs over it. The walls are decorated with floral paintings and delightful Arabesques. There are sunken mehraabs on the interior as well, giving an idea of the solidity and thickness of the walls. The mehraabs have trellises as their centrepieces, with floral designs painted on either side, ascending up to a web-like network of vaulted archlets.The interior of the dome is a beautiful network of geometric designs set on a plain white background. For a building that's safely three to four hundred years old, the interior is astonishingly well preserved.



When I visited the tomb, I was struck by the ethnic composition of the devotees as well as the residents of the nearby colony. Almost all of the devotees I met there were Pashtun, with the hujras adjoining the tomb occupied by three related Pashtun families.Pashto was the language being spoken by the children playing outside the tomb and i could make out fragments of Darri in the conversation of their elders standing nearby. An exploration of the graveyard surrounding the tomb furhther confirmed my assumption that the surrounding population was predominantly Pashtun. A surprising discovery was the graves of two of the wives of Amir Habibullah Khan, the Amir Of Afghanistan . The two royal ladies were buried far away from their homeland, right next to the tomb of this saint at least eighty years ago in what was obviously even then a historically important site.


Conversations with some of the residents of nearby houses confirmed that there had been a fairly large cluster of Pashtun habitations centered around Khwaja Mehmud's tomb for at least three centuries. The Saint himself was a 'Hakeem' and scholar who came to India from Khorasan during the reigns of the earliest Mughals and was a contemporary of Hazrat Mian Mir. He had this tomb built for himself before he died and his tomb served as the unofficial spiritual centre of Lahore's Pashtun diaspora. The population hads been gradually thinning out over the last three centuries so that now there's only two mohallas with predominantly Pashtun populations where once there were a dozen.

The march of history and the demographic shifts that inevitably accompany it have diluted the cultural identity of this unique part of Lahore but Khwaja Mehmud's tomb is an enduring remnant of what was once a vibrant and culturally peculiar corner of Lahore. Little Afghanistan may have started fading at the edges but there's no chance of it completely disappearing so long as Shah Eishan's tomb stands at it's centre.

P.S As a sonic accompaniement to the description of this Pashtun sufi shrine, here's an incredibly rare and beautiful recording of a Qawwali by the legendary Ustad Sarahang of Kabul.

...Of The Potter And The Prince

Siddhu Kumhaar lived a prosperous and contented life. As "Master Bricklayer And Potter By Special Appointment" to Emperor Shahjehan, Siddhu held a very special place in Mughal Lahore. He had supplied bricks for the construction of some of the Emperor's finest creations-from the Shalamar Gardens to the tomb of Dai Anga. Always the first to be considered when some Amir of the court planned the construction of any building, be it a residence, a garden or a mausoleum, Siddhu and his son, Buddhu were well respected artisans who made a very reasonable living from the produce of their kiln. The kiln was situated close to the Shalimar Gardens in the suburb of Begumpura and it churned out bricks and pottery on an almost daily basis to satisfy the needs of the Emperor's many ambitious building projects.

The kiln was lit on one chilly,windy and wet night. It was freezing cold outside but the kiln itself was warm, with the workers huddling close to the fire as they fed it unbaked bricks. In the middle of the night, there was a rap on the door. One of the workers answered and found an old Faqir standing outside. Shivering and drenched, the Faqir requested the worker to let him inside, into the warmth of the kiln. Rather than taking pity on the old man soaking in the freezing rain, the worker slammed the door in his face and returned to the company of his fellows. The worker didn't know that the Faqir he had refused entry was no ordinary mendicant, but Sheikh Abdul Haq, a favorite disciple of the Sufi saint Hazrat Mian Mir.

Abdul Haq left the kiln, cursing under his breath, praying that the fire that hadn't provided warmth to him on this, the coldest of nights would be extinguished forever. That was the last time that kiln was ever lit. Siddhu's business floundered and he was never able to regain the position he once held. When he died, his son Buddhu took over the struggling family business but was unable to turn his fortunes around and ultimately died almost penniless. When Shahjehan heard of the death of his royal potter, he ordered that a beautiful mausoleum be built next to the kiln and Buddhu be laid to rest there. Thus Buddhu the bricklayer was buried close to the kiln that had been both his livelihood and his undoing. 

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 Bhai Buddhu, a Sikh devotee of Guru Arjun Dev had started a brick kiln, but the bricks of his kiln could not be fully baked due to a curse placed on him by a fellow Sikh, Bhai Kamlia. Bhai Buddhu prayed to Guru Arjun Dev so that the curse could be lifted. Guru Dev Ji told him that the curse of a Sikh is final but added that his unbaked bricks would fetch the same price as that of baked bricks. It so happened that that year the demand for bricks soared so high that all the bricks of Bhai Buddhu's kiln were sold and he made a handsome profit. Bhai Buddhu built a Gurdwara as an offering of thanks to the Guru. For a long time this Gurdwara remained under the control of Mahant of Satlani. Under the Gurdwara act of 1927 AD this came under the control of Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee. In 1938 when the building of Sikh National College near the Gulabi Darwaza was constructed, a splendid building for Gurdwara was also built. The building of Gurdwara has collapsed but the tomb of Bhai Buddhu still remains.

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Yamin-ud-Daula Khan-e-Dauran Khan Bahadur Nusrat Jang was one of Shahjehan's ablest generals. He had helped crush a rebellion at Ahmedabad and was instrumental in defeating the armies of Raja Jhajjhar Singh in Deccan and Noor Singh Dev in Gujrat. His wife died in Lahore while he was away on one of his military expeditions. Overcome with sorrow when he was informed of his wife's death, he chose to do what so many other Mughal noblemen did to express their grief. He had a beautiful mausoleum built for his deceased wife near their residence in Begumpura. A few years later, when he too passed away, his son decided to let his father be buried next to his mother. And so, like his Emperor, Khan-e-Dauran was laid to rest in a beautiful mausoleum originally constructed for his beloved wife

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These are just three of the contrasting stories that purport to reveal the identity of the unknown occupant of the remarkable tomb on GT Road just opposite the University Of Engineering And Technology. Known colloquially as "Buddhu Ka Aawa" ,the tomb is strategically placed so that it's the first Pit-Stop on what can be considered the scenic route through Begumpura and Baghbanpura ; the last being the Shalamar Bagh.



This beautiful and rather dilapidated building stands tucked away between a market and a gas station, just opposite UET on the main GT Road. A square building constructed on a raised platform, it has four "Peshtaaq"openings, one each side, with a sunken arched panel on the walls to either side. The platform is raised above the ground and remnants of pillars at it's corners indicate that this tomb may have been part of a much larger building that has since disappeared. Like most other tombs of the Mughal era, this one must have stood in a walled garden, the only remnant of which is a tiny lawn surrounding the building.

The square burial chamber is topped with an octagonal drum shaped structure with four arched openings. On top of this octagon rests the dome. The long-necked dome and rather imposingwas decorated with beautiful glazed tilework and mosaics, of which only remnants remain. The margins of the dome are lined by beautiful, brightly coloured floral mosaic designs that run the circumference of the dome. The hemisphere itself carries what remains of exquisite blue and white tiles arranged in chevrons. The rest of the exposed masonwork has been blackened by the ravages of time. 

Most of the beautiful glazed tilework and other decorations were torn off during the Sikh Era, a fate suffered by most of the other Mughal era buildings of Lahore. Time hasn't been kind to whatever was left behind by the marauders but the little that remains speaks eloquently of the history, the stories and the lives that are permanently woven into the fabric of Lahore's culture. Irrespective of who it is that rests in eternal repose inside 'Buddhu Ka Aawa', the building is a beautiful relic of that remarkable time and place, Lahore under the Mughals.

...Of The Shalamar

Shah Abdul Hakeem had seen the young Bulleh Shah wandering the streets of Qasur several times. He knew the young ascetic was searching for spiritual enlightenment in the form of a guide or "murshid". One day, he called Bulleh Shah and said to him, 'The one you seek is in Lahore. Go to him, present yourself to him and pray that he accepts you as his own".

Bulleh Shah left Qasur and reached Lahore. He roamed the streets day and night,his unkempt locks flowing and his clothes in tatters, searching for his Murshid. One day, he wandered into the Shalamar Bagh; the famed vision of paradise that the Mughal emperor Shahjehan had constructed in Lahore,. After roaming the walkways, he chanced upon one of the Baghbaans - gardeners who oversaw the royal gardens - tilling a field in the gardens. Something came over Bulleh Shah and he stopped in his tracks, filled with a mixture of attraction and awe.Something seemed to tell him that he'd reached the end of his quest, that he'd found the Murshid he was looking for.

Anxious to approach the Baghbaan but reluctant to express his feelings openly, the young Sufi closed his eyes and started performing "Zikr"- the silent remembrance of the Lord. Suddenly one of the mango trees - of which there were dozens upon dozens in the Bagh - dislodged all it's fruit. As the shower of mangoes descended close to the gardener, he turned around and on spotting Bulleh Shah standing at a distance, said, "Thief! How dare you steal mangoes from this garden".

 Bulleh Shah replied, "I'm standing in front of you. away from the tree. How could I have brought down all these mangoes without even touching the tree?"

At this the gardener smiled, closed his eyes and started performing "Zikr". Suddenly, in front of young Bulleh Shah's eyes, all the mango trees in the Bagh started swaying and in an instant, the ground was covered with mangoes. While Bulleh Shah was staring open mouthed, the mangoes lying heaped on the ground jumped up and re-settled on the branches of the trees.

At this, Bulleh Shah ran forward ,fell at the feet of the gardener and offered himself into submission.

             --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

So goes one of the versions of the story of how Bulleh Shah met his spiritual master, Shah Inayat. The Shalamar Gardens were the site of that fabled encounter, and although the mango trees - just one variety among the dozens of types of fruit bearing trees that grew in Shalamar Bagh- are gone, the Gardens and their adjoining regions of Begumpura and Baghbanpura are still at the centre of the cultural, historical and spiritual heritage of Lahore.

Constructed by Shahjehan, the most artistically inclined of the Mughal emperors, at a place "so delightfully adapted to the purpose that it was universally commended", the Shalamar Gardens were designed primarily for the enjoyment of the Emperor on his frequent trips to Lahore. The gifted engineer Ali Mardan Khan -who is buried close to his favorite creation - designed the garden along the pattern of the Shalimar Bagh in Srinagar, with fountained waterways fed by a specially constructed canal from the Ravi called the Shahi Neher. A series of aqueducts and tanks, carrying water transported uphill with the aid of oxen-powered water pumps fed the fountains in a remarkable feat of engineering.

The gardens itself were divided into three tiers. The topmost tier named "Bagh-e Farah Bakhsh" was reserved for the royal family. Along with the Bagh's characteristic fountain-lined intersecting waterways, it has two remarkable structures, the rectangular Diwaane Khaas-o-Aam with the unusual spiculated roof, and the central Barah-dari that overlooks the marvelous cascade that transmits water down to the second level.

Another attraction is the Moorcroft Building, a pavillion costructed during Maharaja Ranjeet Singh's reign for the explorer William Moorcroft. It is equipped with an ingenious ventilation system. The main component of the pavilion is the basement, which has two ventilation openings on each wall that open to the outside just above ground level. It's northern wall opens into a well equipped with a water pump that when powered by oxen, would result in a sheet of water cascading in front of the opening in the wall. Air entering through the well would be cooled after passing through this artificial waterfall and would exit through the eight ventilation windows.



The second level - "Bagh-e Faiz Bakhsh" houses the giant water tank - the Talaab - with its 152 fountains. Water enters it via the Great Cascade, a beautiful scalloped white marble waterway that brings water into the Talaab in a shimmering stream from whence it flows into the pool ,passing underneath the Emperor's marble throne. In the centre of the Talaab is the Mehtaabi, a central platform that oversees the third level of the Bagh, the "Bagh-e-Hayat Bakhsh". The second level houses four beautiful Barah-daris and it's four corners are overlooked by magnificently imposing towers atop the red brick boundary walls.

The "Hayat Bakhsh" houses the exceptional pavilion known as "Saawan Bhaadon" in which water used to cascade down three vertical walls with niches carved into them for placement of oil lamps. At night, water cascading over white marble, with hundreds of oil lamps glowing behind it must've been quite a sight. The rest of the level consists of spacious lawns where once there grew rows upon rows of fruit trees. Sadly, only a few of these are still in fruit.



A UNESCO World Heritage site, the Shalimar Gardens have undergone several renovations and one can see evidence of conservation work still going on in some parts of the Bagh. Perhaps it's just wishful thinking but I hope the conservation process is completed soon and visitors are able to experience the gardens as they were meant to be experienced - a vision of paradise on earth, with lush gardens filled with flowering plants and fruit trees, dancing fountains sending water cascading down waterways that flow in rivulets down the great cascade, with lamps illuminating the Saawan Bhaadon pavilion as visitors marvel at the dance of oil lamps behind a sheet of water and feel what the emperor Shahjehan must have felt when he first visited the Shalamar, as the court historian Inayat Khan wrote :

"His Majesty made a pleasure excursion to those paradise-like terraces. And the gardens and the agreeable pavilions which had been erected about the grounds, which all vied with the heavens in grandeur, were now found suitable to the royal taste. In fact, never before had a garden of such a magnificent description been seen or heard of on earth."

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P.S All photos taken by yours truly. Watch this space for a few more come January, as I can't upload any more in December due to Flickr's obscene 100 photos per month policy.
P.P.S If you're in Lahore and haven't been to Shalamar yet, I can't help but feel pity for you.
P.P.P.S Ustad Vilayat Khansaheb has provided the perfect soundtrack to a walk in the Shalamar Gardens.

Ustad Vilayat Khan(Sitar)-Dhun Punjabi Ang-Kehrwa

Found at: FilesTube

...Of A Pilgrimage

This Sunday I went here

From the outside, it may look like just another shop in a random Pakistani market but in terms of folk music in Punjab in general and Sufi music in particular, Rehmat Gramophone House in Faisalabad is Pakistan's answer to the Abbey Road studios. For me as for many other Pakistani music geeks, RGH is an almost mythical place.

Nusrat cut his first records here, his father recorded some of his last. Attaullah Khan Essakhelvi's journey from unknown performer to the darling of truck drivers all over Pakistan started here. Allahditta Loonaywala was a circus singer before he came to RGH to record. Alam Lohar, Inayat Hussain Bhatti, Zahida Parveen, Reshman, Pathanay Khan, Saeen Zahoor...everybody recorded at RGH. Their archives probably contain more Punjabi folk cultural artifacts than anywhere else in the world.

I had been planning to go to RGH for a while now but due to the unpredictable ward-duties timetable that's the bane of a House-Officer, most of my weekends were spent in the wards. This time though, I specifically requested the powers-that-be to give me a day off so I could go to Faisalabad and finally see the place. Thankully, I got the weekend and on Sunday, I left Lahore for Faisalabad at 9.30 in the morning.

------------------------------Unsolicited Product Testimonial-----------------------------

I consider my phone my Swiss Army knife, and the most potent and useful app in my phone is Google Maps. I can't count the number of times it has saved me from the consequences of my terrible sense of direction. Google Maps made Islamabad and Lahore navigable for me, it took me to my Powergliding trip and now it got me right to RGH Faisalabad from my place in Lahore without ONCE having to stop and ask for directions. In short, Google Maps gets the coveted Official Seal Of Awesomeness

I can say for a fact that I loved Faisalabad, especially the whole 'Ghanta-ghar and Gol Bazar' area. Anarkali in Lahore used to be an interesting place, with bookstores, music shops, people selling trinkets, herbal medicines and the like. But now it's just one huge clothes market. Thankfully, the Gol Bazar in Faisalabad has retained its diversity and you find phoolon ke haar sellers right next to multinational banks, and from what I saw, each doing a roaring trade.

I took a deep breath once I entered Rehmat Gramophone House and I was immediately floored; if old books smell an 8 on the awesomeness scale, old records smell an 11 !! Granted there aren't many vinyls at the shop, but they've still got enough to give me an odour-gasm. I had talked to one of the people at RGH a day earlier and they were expecting me. Before I started to give a look and listen to the qawwali recordings I wanted, I asked them to let me wander around the place a bit. RGH is like a museum and it was an experience just looking at the millions of cassettes on the shelves and imagining the treasures they contained. I thought the gentleman in the photograph in the store was the late supernaturally brilliant Agha Rasheed Fareedi Qawwal, but it turned out to be that of the founder of RGH, Chaudhry Rehmat Ali.



My already huge respect for the musical tastes of the people of Faisalabad increased as I noticed that RGH is almost always full of customers. People are regularly coming in with names of Qawwalis or folk-songs written on slips of paper that the staff take a look at and immediately find for them. I didn't see a single customer turned away because they didn't have the recording he wanted.

After my tour was done I requested them to let me see the tapes I had asked them for, the staff bustled off to underground vaults and returned bearing huge boxes filled with cassette tapes, (something that reminded me partly of Gringotts obviously, but also of a brilliant Bill Bailey spiel about the Argos stores). They had the stuff alright, and giving every cassette a whirl on their stereo cleared any doubts about the sound quality (something I'm very finicky about, knowing the hours that go into cleaning a muddy recording) Once I had expressed my satisfaction with the 10 odd cassettes that I'd ordered, I started looking around for other rarer artists that I didn't really expect them to have.

Suffice to say, they had 'em. They opened up their old recording ledgers and let me look at the various artists and recording dates and when I'd picked one, the store staff would go and retrieve the master-tapes to make me a copy. I spent 3 hours there, exploring, listening to and discussing music with possibly the most knowledgeable and accommodating people I've met. In the end, I left with 7 recordings and they promised to parcel me the rest after they'd made copies from the master-tapes. The rest of my stash arrived today and although I know it'll be a long hard slog digitizing and editing these recordings, I'm terribly, terribly happy.

(RGH photos courtesy Sohail Abid)

…Of Father Abe And Nightmare Photos

This is my current desktop wallpaper
It's a photo of Abraham Lincoln's 2nd Inauguration, and shows him delivering his greatest speech. The "With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right" speech is one of man's greatest moments of oratory; the photo is the only one of Lincoln speaking; and it was taken barely weeks before he was assassinated. But it's also one of the spookiest photographs ever taken. For not only does it show Father Abe, standing behind the solitary white table, spectacles on his nose and the text of the speech in his hand, it also shows his would-be-assassin.
John Wilkes Booth can be seen standing near the top of the Observation deck above the President. I doubt if anyone who hasn't seen a photograph of him will recognize him, but a straight line drawn from the central pillar-thingy on the Observation deck grille finds him. I didn't take much time finding him though. You never forget a face you've seen in a nightmare ....
Here's a final photo to close down this ramble....

...Of Summer Trip 2.0

Before I start, let me say that “Kahin Dil Pe Na Jadoo Kar Jaaye” by Masood Rana is my new favorite song.

As I sit here writing this, my four month long exam ordeal is over.It has been an inhumanly exhausting and nerve racking experience. From the early reports, I don’t appear to be in danger of flunking any of my subjects, which is more than good enough. Examinifitications not being the pleasantest of topics, I shan’t linger on them for too long. The highlights of the three week long finals were I think,

- The beer-belly that munching on endless Cheetos brought about, and I’m trying to get rid of now.
- The beard that appeared somewhere during my pre-Pre-Finals break and now appears to be a fixture, and my mum’s trying to get rid of now.
- Watching Kung Fu Panda and the new Aamir \Imran Khan thingy the same day and enjoying both immensely.
- Late night laptop borrowings to watch Chori Chori and Fantasia. Yes the Disney one, not the Idol one.

As George Harrison (my favorite Beatle, dontcha know) sang, “All Things Must Pass”, my exams have passed and I hope to heavens that I do too. My attention turns back to the start of my Pre-Finals holidays and the Annual Summer Trip.

Twenty-one days had seemed woefully short to prepare for the 4th Year finals, what with there being two extra subjects and the holidays being at least ten days shorter than the normal thirty we get.. So I wasn’t very eager when dad kept asking me if I could spare three or four days at the start of the holidays for the Annual Summer Trip. It appeared that ‘round 18 relatives (and quite a few of them were very round indeed) were gonna be joining us this time and that the trip would be a very elaborate affair, complete with production numbers and chorus lines. The only incentive for me was the new 8 megapixel camera and remembering how great the last trip had been.

Road-trip-mixtape-making is one of my favorite things to do,but as anyone who’se done it knows, time consuming. And with the trip starting the very next day from the end of my pre-finals, it seemed that Road-Trip-Music was in danger. God bless the Chinese !! For apart from their child restriction programs and state approved exercise regimens, they also make those delightful little cassette thingies that you can plug an ipod into and with a few whacks on it’s side, play in any decent car deck. The added advantage was that I could carry all my music with me. The disadvantage was that I forgot my wall charger back at the hostel and so could only use the darned pod in the car and not anywhere else. Aah well…

A picture’s worth a thousand words, as they say, so I’ll just let the pictures do the talking. All the following were taken by me with the 8 megapixel camera and I’m pretty proud of them if I might say so myself….

……As I write this, I’ve found out that Bob Dylan’s new album, “Tell Tale Signs- The Bootleg Series Volume 8” is coming out on the 7th of October…..

A Bearded Chappie In White Trainers

A Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Mist Mountains

The Kunhaar




The Spider In The Mist



The Spider By Day

Saif-ul-Mulook

The Cold Stranger

The Three Brothers


The Three Sisters




Islands In The Stream



Songs Of The Week,The new Ahmed Rushdi\Saleem Raza CD.
Books Of The Week,"The Last Lion:Alone",William Manchester
Movie Of The Week,"The Bicycle Thieves"