A different kind of Haj: Arun Ganapathy visits the shrine of Bahauddin Naqshbandi in Bukhara and is touched by the serenity of the place.
The woman was dressed in a colourful rumcha, a long, loose robe. Her husband and two little sons were wearing a great black kalpok, or skull cap. The boys looked like smaller versions of Genghis Khan.
"Hindustani?" the man turned to me and asked. "Yes. And you?"
"My name is Sherzodbek. I come from Karakalpakstan, close to the Uzbek-Kazakhstan border."
"That's a long way for you to come."
"Yes, but coming here is like going on Haj for us."
We were in a marshrutka, a shared taxi, driving swiftly through flat, melon farms towards the complex of Bahauddin Naqshbandi, just outside Bukhara in Uzbekistan.
Every now and then, the marshrutka would slow down to make way for rosy-cheeked Uzbek girls on the wayside, carrying buckets piled high with peaches and quinces.
Finally, the taxi took a turn off the highway and stopped. The driver announced that we'd arrived at our destination. I tumbled out of the taxi, still reading from the guide book that I was carrying.
Naqshbandi tradition
Bahauddin Naqshband Bukhari - also called Shah Naqshband - was the founder of the Naqshbandi order of Sufis. He was born in the village of Quasr-Al-Arifan, close to Bukhara, in the early 14th century.
When he was still young, he met and served his Sufi masters, Shaikh Muhammad Baba as-Samasi and Shaikh Sayyid Amir Kulal. During the time he was with the latter, he had a series of visionary experiences. In one such experience, according to the guidebook, he found himself in the Divine presence.
'O Bahauddin,' he heard a voice say, 'whatever you want, we will grant.' In response, Bahauddin said, 'I want to be given a path (tariqat) that will lead anyone who travels on it, straight to the Divine Presence.'
His wish was granted. And thus began the tariqat of Sufis known as Naqshbandis.
Not knowing where to start, I followed Sherzodbek and his family, and we walked along a flagstoned path that led, first through a high arch dressed in dazzling blue geometric tiles, and then through a garden of roses and fir trees.
We reached a large dun-coloured building complex, surrounded by ayvans, or covered courtyards, and was topped off by a great lotus dome. As I stepped in, through the heavily carved wooden doors at the entrance, I realised how big the place was and why the Uzbeks called it a ritual ensemble; inside, there was a mosque, a minaret, tombs of dervishes, a series of tanks and courtyards.
"Why did you say coming here is like a Haj?" I asked Sherzodbek.
"Praying to Shah Naqshband is like praying directly to Allah," he said. "He always takes up our requests and shows us the way. The Shah showed us the tariqa - the way to pray and meditate. He would write Allah on the wall and ask his followers to move their finger on the word, concentrating on the divinity within it. In this way, he engraved Allah in his followers' hearts. This is the meaning of 'Naqsh' in Naqshbandi."
By now we crossed a passageway and come to a courtyard, enclosed on three sides by an ayvan. Immediately in front was the tomb of Shah Naqshband - a solid marble platform with a carved fretwork fence running around its perimeter.
From where I was standing, it looked like a performing dais for artists rather than a place for veneration, but it was only my impression. The Sherzodbeks and the other Uzbek families suddenly stopped and fell silent; clearly, they were moved by the place. They kissed the tomb and walked around it thrice, anti-clockwise. All the time, they pleaded for the saint's support with raised palms. It was a touching moment.
Sherzodbek finished praying and we walked for the next 15 minutes along the pathway. It led us through a maze of tombs of Sufi dervishes. When we came to a dead end, we turned around and headed back with Sherzodbek continuing his story of the Shah's life.
Wish-fulfilling tree
"Shah Naqshband's life was full of miracles and you can see them for yourself here," he pointed into the distance. I followed his finger to see the huge tree trunk lying on its side on a platform. It was once a mulberry tree.
"During one of his visits to Mecca, Shah Naqshband was gifted a walking stick. One day, on his return to Bukhara, he was strolling in his garden carrying the walking stick. While walking, he jabbed the stick into the ground and a mulberry tree grew on the spot. It's been long dead and has fallen over, but it still has a lot of spiritual power. If you pray to it, your wishes would be granted," Sherzodbek continued.
As we walked towards the tree, more Uzbek families joined us. Some of them - especially the women - bent under the trunk, where it stretched over the platform and created a lintel, and circled the tree thrice. Each time they bent, they mumbled a little prayer. "Praying for children," said Sherzodbek and I understood this as a wish for fertility.
As the sun began to set over the arched entrance, the call for maghrib, the evening prayer, went up from the minaret to my right. Leaving his wife still praying at the tree, Sherzodbek headed back to the mosque and I joined him.
Inside the mosque, Sherzodbek joined a few Uzbeks who sat on the floor, praying. Together they said a few rakats, or units of prayer, and did the dhikr, or recitation that the Shah had shown.
Although it was silent, one could make out their Adam's Apples shuttling ever so slightly up and down their throats as they recited the name of Allah. For the next few minutes, there was complete silence, then Sherzodbek got up and we filed out one after the other into the chill desert wind outside.
Journey of a lifetime
It was time to leave, so we shook hands. Sherzodbek's family bowed and prayed one last time to the complex; and then turned towards the gate. As they did so, I noticed both husband and wife pulling out handkerchiefs from their pockets. For them this had been a journey of a lifetime; who knows they might never again see their beloved Shah's tomb again... they were wiping their tears.
Getting There
By Road: To get to the Naqshabandi shrine, you have to first get to Bukhara and then take a Marshrutka, or shared taxi from there. The shrine is just outside the city.
By Train: Bukhara is a short train ride from Tashkent. There are two daily trains connecting Tashkent with Bukhara via Samarkand.
By Air: Tashkent is only about two-and-a-half hours by flight from Delhi. Uzbek Air operates regular flights regularly between Delhi and Tashkent.
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