Ramzan: Ramzan Diary From Fatehpur Sikri  

By PRANAV KHULLAR  

Ramzan: Ramzan Diary From Fatehpur Sikri  

I wasn't sure what woke me up - the mellifluous call of the muezzin to prayer or the peacocks' "peeuing", calling out frantically to each other. The dial-light on my watch showed that it was exactly three in the morning. That's the right time to wake up, my guide from the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) had advised me the previous evening, as we walked around Fatehpur Sikri, Agra. I went to him but he was still fast asleep.

Another couple of hours and the fast of Ramadan would be over and then there would be festivity and Id celebrations. I came out into the huge roofless quadrangle around Salim Chisti's tomb at Fatehpur Sikri. All was quiet. As I adjusted my eyes to the darkness, I could make out that a few devout were already at prayer, savouring those last few moments of the holy month which was drawing to a close, kneeling on their rugs beneath the open skies and lifting their hearts to the divine presence.

On such a night as this, I thought to myself, Akbar, too, would have knelt here, far removed from wars, court intrigues and scholastic debates, praying for divine strength and guidance.

The enormous and elaborate Buland Darwaza, the carved stone entrance a few yards away, stood out in the night like a Sphinx, a symbol of man's search for knowledge and perfection. Beyond the Darwaza, outside, a world existed that was ridden with differences and disputes. Inside, in the calm of the night and in an atmosphere hushed with prayer, it was a very different world - once you crossed the threshold of the Darwaza, you entered a tranquil world of complete oneness and devotion. All differences disappeared, and the ambience was one of thanksgiving, hope and piety.

I recollected what J Krishnamurti once said: "Truth is a pathless land...the mind that goes into itself goes on a long pilgrimage from which there is no return". I wondered about when man's role-playing would end - when would we be jolted to an awareness of a common faith beyond all faiths, of a truth beyond all truths? The thought reverberated in the silence of the night.

The cool, crisp air coming in from the desert seemed like the proverbial creative breeze, revealing deeper truths. As I waited patiently for the early morning namaz to conclude, I tried hard to follow the prayers of the devout. Tansen's melody suffused the atmosphere. The peacocks were calling out again. They seemed to be pleading with us to get rid of all prejudices and rise above petty strife. "Get in tune with nature", they seem-ed to tell us. It was a magical moment - I closed my eyes and tried to follow their advice.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the first rays of the sun had already set the red sandstone of Fatehpur Sikri 'on fire'. My guide was still asleep. Suddenly, the place looked deserted - all those early birds who were praying just a while ago had simply disappeared. The young caretaker of the Salim Chisti tomb was just waking up.

Those magical moments of spiritual inspiration were gone, but I was left with a wonderful and peaceful feeling, that I had become much more aware of the nature of truth and being than before. I felt privileged to have been allowed to have this unique experience which, I was sure, would help me evolve into a better person. In the homes around Fatehpur Sikri, the fast of Ramadan was now being broken by the power of love and bonding, symbolised by community celebrations, feasting and interaction.

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See also: Ramzan , Indian Festivals, Spiritual Guidance, God and Religion, Peace on Earth, Peace of Mind, Love and Happiness, Life and Beyond, Body Mind and Soul

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