Islam and Hinduism: Enchanting Abode of The Double Devta

By KISHWAR AHLUWALIA

Enchanting Abode of The Double Devta

Having been born into a secular Hindu family which venerates a Sufi saint, I have always thought I had a special advantage over my friends whose faith in their respective religions would perhaps be more limiting than mine. So, while we commemorate the Urs of our Pir, we also celebrate Diwali and New Year at his shrine. Are we Muslim, Hindu, Sufi or Christian?

Such doubts raised by children eventually gave way to a comfortable and eclectic synergy. Much of the joy and amalgamation exists undisturbed because our religion is simple and private - completely outside of the domain of appropriation, comparison and possession. Now that Sufism is attracting attention, curious friends want to know more about our Pir. But we fall silent when confronted with this curiosity only because we are bound by our Pir's own rectitude. We have understood from his extremely intense but quiet life that the Sufi is never interested in recognition. In fact, he is content to remain hidden, longing only to be united with the Almighty. And there are in this land thousands of such 'nameless' men of God.

The other day I was walking with my family in the green, dense forest close to the Qutub Institutional Area in Delhi when we came across the intriguing shrine of the "Double Devta", as it is popularly called. Venerated by people from the surrounding villages, the Double Devta was nestled at an elevated spot off the main path, with a tree protectively curling over it. There were no boundaries on any side, and all around us grew thick shrubs and bushes, while overhead was only an azure sky, with soft cotton clouds sailing past.

There was neither pundit nor maulvi. In the distance we could see peacocks and the only sound was the rustle of the wind in the trees. Birds hopped around, inquisitively eyeing us before taking wing. A colony of black ants was busily going about its business. From where we stood, we could absorb the peace, and we could visualise the crowds here lighting lamps as the path to the Double Devta had the deep imprint of many devotees. How fortunate we are, I thought, to have this legacy - blessed by not one, but by a Double Devta.

In front of us lay the whitewashed well-preserved ancient tombs of two unknown Sayyads, and adjoining the tombstone was an obviously later addition, a tiny Durga mandir and a miniature Hanuman mandir. As we knelt and prayed and circumambulated the shrine of the Double Devta, what kind of prayers could we have said? Hindu prayers? Muslim prayers? It would have made no sense, because here the Double Devta lay in perfect harmony, sublimating two different worlds.

In that little alcove of peace was captured co-existence, and the loving hands that still tend to the Double Devta were well evident. It is often in unexpected places like this that we find a seamless, composite culture. We find it glowing in the lamps we light, and in the garlands we place at the feet of our gods. It lies equally in the skill of the craftsmen who so cleverly fashioned the Double Devta where the two symbols of supposedly separate religions lie snugly together under a rich leafy canopy.

In that open space, where the shrines of two different faiths blended beautifully in sylvan surroundings, it would have made little sense to remove one or the other. In fact, each seemed to exist only because the other was there. The dignity accorded to them was evident in the name given by the villagers: "Double Devta". Doubly more potent and doubly more powerful.