Koi Bhi Mayoos Is Dar Se Nahin Lauta
Kiske Dil Mein Kya Chhupa Hai
Sab Tumhein Maloom Hai
Baba Haji Ali
The first time I walked into the sea palace of the coast of Bombay (it wasn’t Mumbai then), I was 14 years old. As I walked into the sea, the sounds of waves became louder than the traffic. It felt magical. The road that leads to the dargah 500 meters into the sea was wet. Many poor people sat close to the edge, making me nervous. They seemed unconcerned, sitting comfortably with towers of coins as alms. I reached the mazaar, under the multi-colored stained-glass dome. Under the flowers and chaddars lay resting Haji Ali Baba.
It was my first time in a dargah. Born and raised a Hindu, I was shocked. I had imagined a big statue of Haji Ali Baba, or a picture frame at least would be there at the dargah. How do I pray to this saint without knowing who I am praying to? How do I connect without a physical manifestation? I was confused.
My immediate concerns nudged me. I had gone to pray for my board exam results. I was doing the rounds of all the temples and shrines in my city. I was sure I would fail. Only a miracle could save me. This place was unlike any other I had ever seen. Into the sea, no statue or picture or book or cross! Is this even real, I thought to myself!
Then it occurred to me – I was probably sinning, standing there in doubt. I paid my respects to Haji Ali Baba, made a promise of coming back to say thank you, and emptied my piggy bank for the poor that sat on the road leading to the dargah. After I passed the exams, I went back and honoured my word, with apologies for doubting His power. I knew then that I was being led to claim a part of my soul’s destiny.
After those two initial visits in quick succession, Haji Ali Baba became part of my daily prayers. I didn’t go to the dargah for a long time. I learned then that faith and belief don’t need a form or face. If faith and belief rest in your heart, they are real. A saint may or may not reveal his physical form. Are we that blind that we cannot see His energy? Are we so contaminated that we can’t feel His purity?
The dargah smells distinctly of the sea and flowers. For me, it’s the fragrance of ultimate union. When the salt of the sea mixes with the fragrance of sweet roses and jasmine who can describe how it impacts those who love Baba. The fragrance is sharp and sweet. It lingers in the memory. This fragrance is uniquely that of Baba Haji Ali. I wish it could be bottled, but all good things are intangible.
Eighteen years ago, I walked to my Peer’s mazaar, to forge a deep connection. The fragrance of the sea and the flowers that have seeped into my soul. It has become part of my being. I have wept there and celebrated there, I have prayed for my loved ones and sat there with a broken heart, asking for healing. I have met so many people who told me of challenging situations that they faced, all of them at the peak of the disheartening phases. They came to Baba Haji Ali to pray for a miracle, and they have all received it. Each one has walked out in acceptance and gratitude. He truly heals broken hearts, teaching us the most important lessons of shukar and sabar.
Baba Haji Ali is the Sufi saint of Bombay. The dargah has stood strong in storms, and been safe from the terrorists and communal riots. Baba Haji Ali is the King of the seas. He gives Mumbai beauty, grace, and peace. Without Baba Haji Ali, Mumbai wouldn’t be Mumbai. We are harmonious because this mystical magician protects the city and her people, infusing our air and our breath with the fragrance of crushed flowers and… the sea.
The article has been previously published in Wajd Print Issue (Nov2018-April2019)
