“

I

TRANSCEND

MYSELF

LIKE

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MELODY

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Blackwell Publishing LtdOxford, UKMUWOThe Muslim World0027-4909© 2007 Hartford SeminaryXXX

ORIGINAL ARTICLES

“I t

”T

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I transcend myself like a melody

”: Khw

a

jah M

i

r Dard and Music in Eighteenth-century Delhi

Homayra Ziad

Yale UniversityNew Haven, Connecticut

O Dard, when I speak with eloquenceI am a song emerging from the instrument of my body

1

T

hus speaks Khw

a

jah M

i

r “Dard” (d. 1785), an unusual representative of the Naqshband

i

Mujaddid

i

lineage pioneered by A

h

mad Sirhind

i

.

2

The Mujaddid

i

s rose to prominence in pre-modern South Asia, sustaining an innovative ontology and new forms of ritual with an extensive literary output. Renowned theologian and reformer of Delhi, beloved teacher and one of the foundational pillars of Urdu poetry — he is acknowledged as the greatest Sufi poet in the language — Dard produced a corpus of writings on the main intellectual debates of his day. His Mujaddid

i

credentials are impeccable — his father and

shaykh

, Khw

a

jah N

as

ir “

‘

Andal

i

b”,

3

was a disciple of Sirhind

i

’s direct descendant Mu

h

ammad Zubayr. Dard’s religious writings reveal the profound impact of Sirhind

i

’s theology and ontology, and a deep and abiding respect for Sirhind

i

as a thinker.However, Dard also embodies the natural culmination of a trend that had

been taking shape within Indian Sufism for several centuries, that of being initiated into and incorporating elements of the religious philosophy and praxis of multiple lineages.

4

This exercise had the effect of creating a wider range of acceptable, orthodox practice.

5

In the political and social upheaval of 18

th

century North India, when the moral fiber of society was feared to be fast unraveling, figures like Shah Wal

i

all

a

h (d. 1762) and Mirz

a

Ma

z

har J

a

n i J

a

n

a

n (d. 1781) attempted intellectual syntheses within the framework of Naqshband

i

Sufism that would create “universally valid interpretation[s] of Islam.”

6

They envisaged moral reformation on a grand scale and a

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reconciliation of popular, competing existential philosophies, with the ultimate goal of rebuilding unity within the

ummah

while remaining true to the

shar

i “

ah

. At the same time, there appeared an emphasis in Sufi discourse on the figure of the Prophet and the centrality of the

h

ad

i

th and

sunnah

, which influenced and reflected a similar development in the rest of the Muslim world.

7

Dard, for example, became the leader and theoretician of the

†

ar

i

qah mu

h

ammad

i

yah

, an orthodox Sunni Islam enriched and interiorized by Naqshband

i

techniques, and a universal spiritual path largely rooted in, but claiming to transcend, the Mujaddid

i

conception of unicity (

taw

hi

d

).

8 Introduced by ‘Andalib, via the spiritual descent of Imam Hasan b. ‘Ali, the †ariqah fashioned itself as the all-embracing and original “pure religion of Muhammad.”9

This article focuses on the use of music to explore the significance of Dard’s †ariqah muhammadiyah. In 18th century Delhi, the mahfil i sama“, or mahfil i Qawwali, gained great popular prominence, largely associated with celebrations at the shrines of Chishti Sufi masters. Qawwali, a fusion of sama“ (audition) and dhikr (recitation),10 consists of sayings or poetry set to instrumental music. A contemporary practitioner defines qawwali in this way: “the clothing in words of the divine ‘incomings’ (waridat) that people of religion grasped in a reflective ( fikri ) manner and then wished to proclaim. At the very least, the ideas impress themselves verbally on listeners and, perhaps, spiritually and reflectively.”11 Utilizing the techniques of dhikr, the purpose is to concentrate the mind of the listener and transport him or her to a higher spiritual state.

Sama“ and related practices were regarded with trepidation or frankly condemned in Mujaddidi circles.12 In contrast, Dard openly enjoyed and encouraged music. He not only convened musical gatherings at his own residence and at his father’s grave but was also reputed to be a fine singer, well-versed in the intricacies of music theory.

Through which affiliation did Dard inherit this practice and how did he reconcile it with Mujaddidi praxis? Was it an irrepressible expression of his poetic nature and a product of the lively music scene of Mughal Delhi or a practical decision aimed at more widespread dissemination of the †ariqah muhammadiyah? Related to this is Dard’s idea of affiliation itself: did the nature of the †ariqah muhammadiyah preclude allegiance to the traditional Indo-Muslim lineages? I propose that Dard’s was a truly individualistic endeavor that by its very nature allowed him to incorporate the practice of sama“ despite the strong objections of his companions on the Mujaddidi path. I will also argue that the changing nature of the mahfil i sama“ in 18th century Delhi may have been crucial to Dard’s universal spiritual enterprise.

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Sources include “Ilm al Kitab, Dard’s extensive Persian commentary on his poetical “incomings” (waridat)13 that presents his theology, ontology, epistemology and the institutions and ethics of the †ariqah muhammadiyah. The secondary works are Chahar Risalat,14 four shorter texts consisting of spiritual diaries, prayers, aphorisms, and guidance for seekers. Historical details of Dard’s role in the literary and musical culture of Delhi can be found in Nasir Nadhir “Firaq”’s hagiography Maykhanah i Dard 15 and contemporaneous and later poetical tazkirahs (biographical dictionaries).16

Tawhid MuhammadiThe †ariqah muhammadiyah came into being to transcend the heated

debate in Muslim India between proponents of the two main existential doctrines in vogue at the time: the unity of existence (wahdat i wujud), associated by then with Ibn ‘Arabi and his interpreters, and the unity of appearance (wahdat i shuhud), proposed by Sirhindi.17 The controversy was widespread among the religious establishment and took the form of both written discourse and public showdowns,18 forcing ‘Andalib to forbid all mention of these ideas in his assemblies19 (though even he couldn’t help addressing the controversy in his magnum opus Nalah i “Andalib). At a time of great socio-political insecurity, Dard was troubled by the enmity within the religious community on this issue. A wish to transcend the disagreement led him to propose an even higher universal ideal for the community to aspire towards.

One of the overarching principles of Dard’s venture is the essential unity of the key methods of self-understanding and access to the divine. Revealed law (shari “at), the practices of the spiritual path (†ariqat), and experiential knowledge (ma“rifat) are unified with regard to their altimate reality (haqiqat). At the same time, they are all different faces and standpoints of this one reality. Shari “at is the outer level, connected to submission (islam), tariqat is the inner level, connected to faith (iman), ma“rifat is the secret (sirr), connected to the essence (kunh) of each thing, and haqiqat is the secret of the secret (sirr-i sirr). According to Dard, these four are often viewed as separate, distinct, even contradictory levels, with shari “at as the lowest and least comprehensive. Rather, writes Dard, their reality and substance is the same. Shari “at is the form of haqiqat, haqiqat is the inner meaning of shari “at, †ariqat means being characterized by the shari “at, and ma“rifat is the unveiling of haqiqat. All are manifestations and levels of haqiqat and their external distinctions are not essential differences; rather, they reflect differences of standpoint (haithiyat).20

Dard’s writings wrestle with haqiqat, the one reality, and the relationships and levels through which it self-manifests through existence and creation. Throughout his works Dard emphasizes both the all-encompassing and

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relative nature of reality, and warns against confining oneself to a single mode of interaction with it. This tunnel-vision is the crime of sloppy wujudi and shuhudi Sufis, who follow the limited views of either ‘sameness’ (“ainiyat) (the unity of God and His creation) or ‘otherness’ (ghairiyat) (a complete existential disconnect between God and His creation).21 Dard formulates a compromise between unity of existence and unity of appearance and names it Muhammadi unicity (tawhid Muhammadi ). This is the original concept of tawhid revealed to the Prophet Muhammad and is connected to the highest non-contingent level of existence, that of God’s Essence, that encompasses the lower two levels of existence corresponding to the lesser two limited unities.22 Muhammadi unicity is experiencing/knowing the unification of all relationships and determinations within the Essence, along with the understanding that the Essence is utterly transcendent.23 It encompasses and transcends both unity of existence and witnessing, and is a combination of the knowledge and tasting of both.24

Fittingly, Dard’s main intellectual influences, other than his own revered father ‘Andalib, are Sirhindi and Ibn ‘Arabi. Having read original works of ‘Ibn Arabi as well as commentaries,25 Dard believes that no one, including Sirhindi, has explained issues of reality and the subtleties of Qur’anic meanings like the great Andalusian Sufi. However, ‘Ibn ‘Arabi was intoxicated, possessing ascent but not descent, and the blessings of the highest stage that man can aspire to, that of the pure Muhammadi, are not found in him. He brandished a colorful, fearless temperament and his words often revealed a ‘color’ harmful for many wayfarers.26 Dard tweaks and redefines what he interprets as ‘Ibn ‘Arabi’s metaphysics and particularly confronts the views of the Fusus al Hikam commentators Kashani and Qaysari, pointing out the fallacies in some of their arguments and claiming that they misunderstood much of what ‘Ibn ‘Arabi was attempting to convey.27

Tariqah MuhammadiyahThe concept of tawhid muhammadi demanded a new spiritual path that

could encompass both wujudi and shuhudi practices. Dard’s idea of the path is fluid; he is keenly aware of the unique nature of individual experience but stresses a universality of purpose that encourages unity. The affinity of each path has a slightly different ‘color’ (rang), he writes, and each wayfarer has an affinity of a different ‘color’ than the next. “God is a secret in the heart of each servant.”28 Each interaction and quality alights upon each individual in a manner specific to himself and this can even occur within the same path, where individuals engage in the same practices under the very same master.29

However, the perfect men of each path should be seen as united, for their goal is one. From a universal angle, then, there is no real contradiction

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between paths when it comes to connection with God and with the accompanying states and qualities that descend upon the wayfarer. Contradictions are skin-deep, such as the use of assorted technical terms across paths to describe experiences essentially the same but undergone in diverse ways.30

Enter the †ariqah muhammadiyah. According to Dard, in every era the reality of speciation (haqiqat i naw“iyah) demands the appearance of a perfect individual that will allow the perfection of the species to continue. Because of mankind’s disparate perceptions of reality, individuals tend to form groups, then separate nations and ways of life. Man is captured in a prison of relativity and wrenched from his original state of one-ness. Accordingly, in every age, an individual must appear from among the friends of God to revive and renew (ihya” and tajdid ) the clear religion and path (din).31 Dard believes that his father ‘Andalib (and then, Dard himself) took on this mantle and was appointed by God to proclaim the rejuvenating message of Muhammadiyat32 — that guidance and salvation lie in the †ariqah muhammadiyah and in the shari “ah of Muhammad.33

Because he believes that the goal of all paths is one, Dard disassociates the Muhammadi path from ideas of reform and revivalism. The religion of Muhammad will remain unchanged until the Day of Judgment and the Muhammadi path presents no alteration in name, practice, form or reality.34 However, unable to deny that he is in fact proposing a novel idea, he cannot help but use the terminology of his endeavor. Though the Muhammadi path is not a new creation, it is not the same as other contemporaneous paths.35 It is all-encompassing — the meat, essence, and goal of all paths,36 the perfection and completion of all stations, and closest to God’s love. He is careful to add that though Muhammadis do engage in renewal and revitalization, they do so only to preserve the pure religion. All perceived alteration is superficial.37 In Dard’s view, the Muhammadi path is a reformulation of the path followed by the Prophet just as the Mujaddidi path incorporates additional elements but is really a branch (sha“b) of the Naqshbandi order.38 All the friends of God (awliya” ), at their different levels of awareness, traversed this path and all sages and guides were bound to it. One Muhammadi connection flows through every spiritual path, indeed, through every believer. The special trait by which each path exalts itself above others is a part of the universal Muhammadi connection and is given the name of pure Muhammadiyat.39

The universality of this path derives from the importance placed on the Qur’an and hadith, the only legitimate sources of meaning for pure Muhammadis.40 The principles of the path are expressed in terminology that was either extracted directly from these two sources or divinely revealed to

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Dard. According to him, only connection with the word of God leads to real advancement on the path, for the Qur’an is a clear guide (kitab mubin) for pure Muhammadis.41 Throughout the “Ilm al Kitab, Dard replaces common Sufi terminology with terms found in the Qur’an or hadith.42 Additionally, every stage of the Muhammadi path is profoundly connected to one or more Qur’anic verses that embody its essence and give it strength.43

Because the pure Muhammadi path encompasses all other paths, the latter are abrogated once the former enters the fray. Dard expresses bewilderment that each group from among the seventy-two factions within Islam still feels that they are the sole arbiters of the truth. These factions exhibit a diluted or mixed Muhammadiyat (muhammadiyat i mumtazijah) they unknowingly associate other realities with God (ahl i shirk i khafi ) — and Dard equates this with Sirhindi’s concept of “infidelity of the path” (kufr i †ariqah).44 These people of hidden shirk allow their ego to take part in their understanding of religion and faith.45 They only accept interpretations of the Qur’an, hadith and the words of pure Muhammadis that suit their spiritual preparedness and perception (isti“dad o idrak). Those whose abilities and natures happen to match accept each other’s interpretations (ma“ni), but with discordant natures and abilities, strife ensues. Separate groups appear within pure Muhammadiyat, creating a diluted Muhammadiyat and calling themselves by different names.46

According to Dard, there is only one solution to this factionalism: followers of all paths should attach themselves sincerely to the Prophet, externally assume the name of pure Muhammadi, and release themselves from the limitations of all other paths.47

The universal and salvific nature of Dard’s path precluded allegiance to the traditional Sufi orders, whose methods were only partial reflections of the greater Muhammadi practice and which were abrogated upon the revelation of this more exalted path. The underlying reality of Muhammadi unicity encompassed both wujudi and shuhudi unity.

How did this allow Dard to incorporate music into his repertoire?

Ma na in kar mikunim, na inkar mikunimMusical activity in Delhi was largely confined to Chishtis and Qadiris, who

regarded sama“ as a legitimate means of religious expression. Adherents of the Mujaddidi path had been historically opposed to this practice. In his letters, Sirhindi notes that Naqshbandis avoid sama“ and dhikr with a loud voice48 and he himself did not allow vocal dhikr (dhikr i jahr).49 As a spiritual representative (khalifah) of Khwajah Baqi Billah, he penned letters to his fellow Naqshbandis on the illegality of sama“, urging them to avoid its temptations.50 In his view, indulgence in this practice did not bring about

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spiritual advancement but rather reflected the “fluctuating states” (taqallub i ahwal ) of its practitioners.51 Similar indulgences like dancing (raqs), singing (naghmah) and ecstatic sessions (wajd, tawajud) were also objectionable.52

However, Sirhindi notes that he does not wish to condemn these practices wholesale but rather to present an authentic account of Naqshbandi convention. He even admits that sama“ correctly performed can be a means to jumpstart stalled spiritual development, but that the type of sama“ he saw around him was sadly lacking in such merit.53 In the final analysis, he resorts to the highly practical saying of Baha al din Naqshband: Ma na in kar mikunim, na inkar mikunim, that is, we don’t indulge in these practices but we do not disapprove of those who do.54

Accordingly, the Mujaddidis of the 18th century eschewed sama“ but harbored no ill-will against the Chishtis and Qadiris who practiced the art. They excused the few non-Mujaddidi Naqshbandis who engaged in sama“ by citing their simultaneous affiliation with Qadiri or Chishti lineages.55

Ay zamzamah-pardaz . . .In direct contrast to Mujaddidi ideals, Dard adored music, holding regular

mahafil i sama“ and ghina. His family took an active part in the lively music culture of Delhi. ‘Andalib was a disciple of the poet Shah Sa‘dallah “Gulshan,” a Naqshbandi well-versed in music,56 known in history as “the second Khusraw”57and as the man who attracted the poet Wali Dakani to Delhi from the south, changing the course of Urdu literature. References in the Nalah i “Andalib reveal a wealth of musical knowledge.58

Contemporaneous tazkirahs write that Dard had expertise in the science of music59 and, according to his hagiographer Firaq, he read widely on the topic in both Sanskrit and [Brij] Bhasha.60 Great masters of music and renowned qawwals gathered at his place61 and investigated musicological concepts such as tal (measuring time) and sarwan (the art of listening). According to Firaq, Dard was able to explain and illustrate 42 different ragas and their tunes (dhun) with such expertise that each sentiment was differentiated from the other.62 He also appears to have been a musician and/or singer himself63 and is said to have performed with the musician and sarod player Firoz Khan.64 Dard and he often met in private and the latter was apparently astounded by his prowess.65 Dard would even make corrections to Firoz Khan’s naqsh.66

Dard composed, in [Brij] Bhasha, musical forms like khayal, dhrupad,67 tappa,68 †humri and hori.69 Firaq also quotes Dard’s brother, the poet Mir Athar, who praises Dard’s creations in his Mathnawi Khwab o Khayal. Athar writes:

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How shall I describe the impactOf Dard’s melodies?Each note is murderousPitching hearts to a fury of delight70

Some tazkirah authors note that Dard continued his father’s tradition after ‘Andalib’s death, organizing a musical gathering (majlis i ghina) at his grave on the 2nd or 3rd of each month. All were welcome at these assemblies and many reputed musicians took part. Mushafi writes that both the “small and great” of the city would attend.71 According to Firaq, the details presumably passed down through family lore, on the eve of each gathering, carpets and white sheets were spread across the garden house, a tent went up, lamps were lit and little pots, jars, and pitchers filled with water and scattered about the place. Word would spread like wildfire that Dard’s gathering was on for the evening. Hundreds of musicians (dom), dhrupad singers (kalawants) and qawwals descended from both within and outside the city, and the general public appeared in droves. Members of the nobility were present, as were Sufis. The Mughal emperor Shah Alam II (r. 1759–1788) appeared to have been in attendance at several of these gatherings, though not at Dards’ invitation.72 Mushafi speaks of the presence of “light-fingered (chabukdast) musicians, and bin players lost in their instruments, [who] had the gift of playing the qanun and singing songs.”73

Dard only appeared from his cloister when the entire crowd had gathered, and knelt among the assembly. Proper etiquette was a must, even at such public gatherings, and according to several accounts, Dard once chided the emperor himself for letting his foot slip forward.74 It also appears that many teachers of the art of music who attended his gatherings pledged spiritual allegiance to him (ba“yat),75 highlighting the dual nature of his role in the cultural sphere.

Dard’s love of music is prominent in his poetry, where he commonly uses musical metaphors to express metaphysical ideas:

Learn me through my songs, O DardLearn my melody through my callO song-bearers, like a qanunLearn my separate stations through my sounds76

Dard’s practice of sama“ in particular may have stemmed from his approval of vocal recollection (dhikr). The overwhelming majority of Naqshbandis, and in particular the Mujaddidi branch, have valued silent dhikr over its vocal form, believing it to be a more sophisticated method of remembrance that compels engagement of the heart.77 Though Dard lauds the importance of silent recollection, the “Ilm al Kitab suggests that he approved and practiced both

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the silent and vocal kinds.78 The highest form of recollection in his hierarchy is the recollection of power (dhikr i sul†ani ) — the culmination of successive stages of dhikr — which engages the entire body.79 It is very likely that Dard incorporated vocal dhikr and sama“ from a Qadiri or non-Mujaddidi Naqshbandi affiliation. He was very proud of his mother’s descent from ‘Abd al Qadir Jilani and he consciously acknowledges his adherence to both the Mujaddidi and Qadiri lineages:

The Naqshbandi, Mujaddidi and Qadiri paths are at the level of the creed (millat) of Abraham.80 The Pure Muhammadis follow them and engage performative actions, remembrances, practice and supererogatory recitations as laid down by the eminent guides of these orders.81

Elsewhere, he writes that the †ariqah muhammadiyah is a progeny of the Naqshbandi and Qadiri families.82

For example, the origin of Dard’s dhikr i sul†ani may be traced to some Qadiri and Naqshbandi practices. According to Thierry Zarcone, certain branches of the Naqshbandi-Khalidis practice a dhikr called sul†an al adhkar, which refers more to an accompanying mystical state than to a technique. It is of Indian origin, and can also be found among the Qadiris. The sul†an al adhkar uses the entire body as a vehicle for dhikr, and aligns with Dard’s description of dhikr i sul†ani.83 David Damrel also mentions that the Chishti-Sabiri ‘Abd al Quddus Gangohi (d. 1537), a leading syncretist between Sufism and Nathapanthi Yoga, practiced a special form of recollection that he called sul†an i dhikr, a term he allegedly borrowed from Ibn ‘Arabi’s Risala i Makkiyah.84

Discordant MelodiesDard addresses sama“ in his prose works but tends to waver between

two approaches — either expressing a strong commitment to the act or helplessness in the face of divine will. At times, he pays mock homage to those who disapprove of the act, and his sarcasm is apparent between the lines. He writes:

I have heard that news of my sama “ has reached everyone’s ears. May God guide me from this public misfortune, and may He also grant my critics the ability to hear beauty so that the lovers’ song penetrates the melody of their hearts. And so that they do not, like spiders, spin reproach around the souls of song on this warp (tar) and weft.85 The principles of my beliefs are strong and their objections to my excess are weak.86

The final sentence exemplifies his second approach, where he feels compelled to emphasize the strength of his faith and present a lukewarm

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attitude towards sama“. At one point, he states that he is neither for nor against it, but he has clearly not founded his spiritual path upon the practice, nor has he given a legal decision ( fatwa) declaring it legitimate.87 In the same vein, he depicts his musical assemblies as acts of God that take place against his will:

My sama“ comes from God. Truth is witness to the fact that the musicians come of their own accord and sing for as long as they wish. They do not come looking for this dervish, nor do they believe that singing is like other forms of worship. I do not object to this, nor do I practice it (na inkar mikunam, na in kar mikunam), and [in this] my belief is that of my spiritual ancestors.88

Similarly, Dard writes:

I do not enjoy this action [sama “ ] as much as those who are completely immersed in it, nor do I consider it as good as the people of sama “ and the Sufis view it to be. However, it is not as bad as the mullas of the husk89 imagine. In any case, God knows that I do not seek out the musicians nor do I savor [their music.] If they never showed up again, the thought of listening to them would never enter my mind. Who knows what divine wisdom there is in God’s making me listen [to music,] for he continues to send maestros of this art to me, so that I may listen to them as long as I am destined to do so.90

In another passage, Dard addresses his enjoyment of song (naghmah o sarod ), claiming that it is merely a result of scholarly interest. He is not indulging his animal nature, like iniquitous and profligate listeners, nor is he like Sufis and wayfarers, whose enjoyment reflects a state of intoxication. Rather, his interest can be compared to scholarly study of the principles and minutiae of the exact sciences, which is perfectly in line with the actions of a good Muslim. Music, he writes, is a branch of mathematics — though it is wondrous, subtle, and penetrates the soul!91

His defensive attitude is understandable. He knows he is outside the pale of his Mujaddidi forebears and, in fact, seems to have invoked the anger of several contemporaries. The identity of these nay-sayers is unclear, but they may fall into the category of the ubiquitous “mullahs of the husk” (mulla i qishri) that so irked Dard. In Nalah i Dard, he writes:

Other companions of my path (†ariq), who are in no way familiar with the nature of song (kayfiyat i naghmah), sing discordant melodies about me, the confessed sinner, and open invisible toneless lips of reproach. Oh, honorable ones, all this futile anger must not gnaw away [at you], and the heads must bear their own necks. God is Powerful — His mercy may be activated without cause and He may hide my small sins, like He does your great ones.92

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Even in this description, Dard uses musical metaphors! Though Dard’s religious works were largely meant for a select audience either exploring or committed to the Muhammadi path, it can be imagined that the bitterness of his detractors forced him to resort to a defense of his stance in his writings. It appears that Dard went as far as to compose a treatise on the legality of music entitled Hurmat i ghina.93 One biographer declares that, despite belonging to the Naqshbandi lineage, he wrote this book as guidance for his students and “took the responsibility of the sin of [song] onto himself.”94

Notwithstanding religious censure, the disapproval may have also had a social basis. As we saw, many musicians had pledged spiritual allegiance to Dard and his musical assemblies were open to “small and great” alike. However, Dard belonged to the Naqshbandi nobility. His paternal ancestor, a descendant of Baha al din Naqshband (d. 1389), had traveled from Bukhara to India with his three sons during the reign of the emperor Awrangzib. Their Naqshbandi lineage garnered them royal favor; they became rank-holders (mansabdars) and married directly into the royal household.95 It appears that Dard’s father was the first to reject the wealth and nobility of his ancestors and don the garb of a dervish. Was Dard and ‘Andalib’s involvement with low-status individuals in the context of mahafil i sama“ and ghina regarded as unseemly by members of the ruling elite? Katherine Brown notes that “the leadership of cultural fashion devolved onto the Mughal noblemen . . . men who ordinarily held high positions (mansabs) in the Mughal hierarchy. In this way, the wider cultural imperatives of elite male society dictated the directions of musical trends at this time.”96 Brown demonstrates that though musical assemblies were “stretching boundaries” by the 18th century, the older norms of masculinity and etiquette were very much alive, “painstakingly constructed to avoid real transgressions of the social order.”97 Indo-Persian literature on mahfil etiquette particularly stressed the need to keep a distance between patrons and musicians. To this end, authors demarcated the classes of musicians, instruments and audiences that could be allowed into a mahfil, and it was considered shameful for the nobleman to sing in the presence of musicians, in case he was mistaken for one.98 Dard may have chosen the life of a dervish but he was still very much part of the urban elite. It is likely then that Dard’s egalitarian mahafil and his associations and performance with musicians on a level of equality subverted the standards of mahfil etiquette, inviting censure from his social class.

Divinely AppointedNotwithstanding Dard’s very real love of music, sama“ and ghina must

have served another key purpose: propagating the Muhammadi path. In

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keeping with Naqshbandi ideals of transcending the earthly realm yet living fully in the world, Dard’s writings reveal an activist ethics. Man’s inner journey and spiritual development is only perfected when it is directed outwards for the benefit and transformation of others99 and, as illustrated by stories in the “Ilm al Kitab, Dard envisages an active advisory relationship between the pure Muhammadis and society.100 In Dard’s system of ethics, explicated at various points in the “Ilm al Kitab, an entire group of the divine virtues that man must inculcate within himself is concerned with religious guidance and with spreading the Muhammadi path.101

It is also important to keep Dard’s self-understanding in mind; he often styles himself as divinely appointed, employing language that recalls the mission of the Prophet Muhammad. Similarly, the “Ilm al Kitab is described in language befitting the Qur’an.102 In his religious writings, he is the perfect Muhammadi, granted by God the gift of transformative speech and appointed through divine audition to lead mankind towards God and the Prophet.103 The pure Muhammadi has successfully traversed the stages and states of the Muhammadi path, through which he has attained a transformative knowledge that allows him to take on divine attributes.104 He lives and acts in the world but is absorbed in constant awareness and witnessing of the divine. This rank (mansab), specified by the essence of Muhammad, is the closest man can hope to get to the equilibrium of divine traits (i“tidal i haqiqi ) that characterized the Prophet.105 Throughout his writings, Dard employs terminology from a number of disciplines, from Sufism and philosophy to speculative theology, Qur’an commentary, grammar and literary theory. Appropriating the discourse of the main intellectual and experiential branches of Muslim learning allowed him to communicate his ideas to a wider audience and so fulfill his divinely ordained mandate. Mahafil i sama“ and ghina were other such means.

Eighteenth century Delhi experienced a gradual transformation in musical culture. Though the Mughal court remained an important source for music history, cultural activity began shifting from the central court to individual urban patrons, as well as to other Mughal territories — a process hastened by the invasion and sack of Delhi by Nadir Shah in 1739.106 Writings on music such as the chatty and ornate Muraqqa“ i Dihli (A Delhi Album/Sketches of Delhi), written in 1734–5, reveal a gradual popularization of music and dance in relative terms. Musical soirees were often held at the homes of nobles, the improprieties of which the Muraqqa“’s author, the nobleman Quli Qutub Shah, details with guilty pleasure. Both instrumental and vocal music were performed. Renowned poets of the time convened mahafil i musha“irah where ghazals were recited and on the death anniversaries of great poets, disciples gathered in homage at the tombs of the deceased.107 An entire section

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of the Muraqqa“ lovingly paints word-portraits of the top musicians, dancers and entertainers of the time, including the best qawwals and khayal singers as well as the more sober kalawants, who sang dhrupad and were not considered as au courant as the others.108 More importantly, these descriptions show us that many events were open to the general public and that both Hindus and Muslims took part. In fact, musical soirees became almost daily entertainment for the public. As always, the shrines of Sufis and renowned ascetics, largely Chishtis such as Qutb al-din Bakhtiyar Kaki (d. 1235) and Nizam al-din Awliya’ (d. 1325), were the most popular venues and qawwals, artisans, minstrels, dancers and ventriloquists regularly plied their wares in the vicinity.109

In this environment, musical evenings would be an ideal forum for disseminating ideas. Because the recitation of Persian poetry at the mahafil i sama“ was slowly being replaced by Urdu/rekhta, as attested to by poets of the time,110 these events would have been ever more accessible to the general public. It would be logical to assume that Dard’s own verse was being sung at his gatherings, perhaps in the compositions mentioned by Firaq. For example, Wali’s divan was often used in qawwali assemblies and sung as ghazals111 and many of Shah Hatim’s ghazals were sung to music by “singers of Hind,”112 both during the lifetime of the two poets. Firaq also writes that Dard’s compositions were received as blessings and often performed at gatherings and weddings. These were never included in his written collection of poetry but memorized and transmitted by “people of faith.” According to Firaq’s father, the bin player Mir Nasir Ahmad Binkar sang Dard’s khayals at his death anniversary celebrations.113 Even today, Dard’s verses, such as the favorite Yaro Mera Shikwa, are sung in qawwali form.114

We must keep in mind that Dard’s poetry was the kernel of his mystical philosophy, the inspired “incomings” around which his prose works were structured. True to an extensive literary tradition, Dard thinks of poetry as “licit magic” (sihr i halal), that expresses the inner meaning of unicity through metaphorical expression.115 Poets who can produce a perfect marriage of form and meaning — verses of wisdom (shi“r al hikmah) — are assisted by the holy spirit itself, which illuminates each chamber of the heart with “incomings”. This is a subtle art that beguiles, absorbs and has a profound effect on the soul.116 Furthermore, the entire purpose of beautiful expression is to draw others to the light of belief.117 Dard’s “Ilm al Kitab and other Persian prose works were meant for a limited, elect audience, most likely disciples who had proven their spiritual mastery and commitment. At a more popular level, however, the assemblies of sama“ and ghina would allow his verse to circulate among the general public. What better way to popularize the ideas of the Muhammadi path?

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ConclusionIn a study of Shah Waliallah’s writings on the history of Sufism, Marcia

Hermansen has suggested that the 18th century Mughal era was a transitional period for concepts of Sufi †ariqah identities and that written expression began to evince “the enhanced role of the individual.”118 The universal nature of Dard’s understanding of †ariqah muhammadiyah appears to be a similar move towards a strong individualism in the understanding of the path. Dard’s path did not merely incorporate the practices of other paths through the popular method of induction into multiple lineages but transcended these orders altogether. Tawhid muhammadi, combining and transcending wujudi and shuhudi unity, allowed practices associated with both perspectives, so that Dard could easily assimilate the popular Qadiri acceptance of sama“ into his general Mujaddidi structure of ritual. Dard’s self-image as a divine appointee would also necessitate a way of ensuring the continuing influence of his teachings in the turbulent times ahead. To this end, Dard took advantage of the changing nature of the mahafil i sama“ and ghina to further propagate the universalist ideals of the †ariqah muhammadiyah.119 This move prompted an outcry from Dard’s companions on the Mujaddidi path, who may not only have viewed his indulgence in music as a betrayal of his forebears but looked askance at the self-proclaimed universalism of the †ariqah muhammadiyah.120

Endnotes1. Khwajah Mir Dard, “Ilm al-Kitab (IK ) (Delhi: Matba‘ i ansari, 1890), 519.2. Sirhindi (d. 1624) was known by his disciples as the renewer of the second

millennium (mujaddid i alf i thani), and his collection of letters (Maktubat i Imam i Rabbani) holds a special place in the history of South Asian Sufism and in the Naqshbandi tradition. Sirhindi has received more scholarly attention than most Naqshbandis, particularly in the sphere of politics and for his alleged intimate relations with the Mughal court. Much of this scholarship, especially from the Subcontinent, is tinged with modern-day political considerations, either to condemn Sirhindi’s role in the ‘Naqshbandi reaction’ to Emperor Akbar’s religious policies, or to applaud him for defining the boundaries of the Muslim community. All this fails to take into account his role as a Sufi thinker, which was prodigious. Several authors have re-focused on Sirhindi’s Sufi thought. Yohanan Friedmann challenges the representation of Sirhindi as the inspiration for the Mughal emperor Awrangzib’s strict religious reforms and rather demonstrates that Sirhindi’s “main endeavour in [his letters] is to integrate his Sufi ideas into a Sunni frame of reference.” Friedmann, Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi: An Outline of His Thought and a Study of His Image in the Eyes of Posterity (Montreal and London: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1971), 114. Also see J. G. J. ter Haar, Follower and Heir of the Prophet: Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi (1564–1624) as mystic (Leiden: Het Oosters Instituut, 1992).

For more on the historical development of the Naqshbandi Mujaddidi lineage, see Marc Gaborieau, Alexander Popovic, and Thierry Zarcone, Naqshbandis: Historical Development and Present Situation of a Muslim Mystical Order (Istanbul and Paris: Editions Isis, 1991); David Damrel, “The ‘Naqshbandi Reaction’ Reconsidered,” In Beyond Turk and Hindu:

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Rethinking Religious Identities in Islamicate South Asia. Ed. David Gilmartin and Bruce Lawrence. (Gainesville: University Press of Florida, 2000); Warren Fusfeld, “The Shaping of Sufi Leadership in Delhi: The Naqshbandiyya-Mujaddidiyya 1750–1920” (Ph.D. diss., University of Pennsylvania, 1988).

3. Though Dard achieved greater recognition than his father, thanks to his foray into rekhtah, ‘Andalib too was a beloved teacher of his time, the founder of a new spiritual path, the †ariqah muhammadiyah, and deeply involved in the literary and musical life of Delhi. His major accomplishment is a work in Persian which became the inspirational source for Dard’s “Ilm al Kitab (Knowledge of the Book). The Nalah i “Andalib (Lament of the Nightingale) is an 1800 page allegorical tale of the mystical quest that introduces readers to the ideas of the †ariqah muhammadiyah. ‘Andalib remained Dard’s primary spiritual mentor and, in a moving passage, Dard describes the revelation of the †ariqah muhammadiyah to ‘Andalib, and his own initiation at the hands of his father. IK, 85.

4. Carl Ernst cites the example of the 15th century Chishti Ashraf Jahangir Simnani, who claimed initiation in fourteen different orders. Carl W. Ernst, “Chishti Meditation Practices of the Later Mughal Period,” In The Heritage of Sufism, Volume 3: Late Classical Persianate Sufism (1501–1750), ed. Leonard Lewisohn and David Morgan (Oxford: Oneworld, 1999), 348. Dr. Ernst’s article approaches multiple initiation from a Chishti perspective, looking particularly at the 18th century meditation manual of Nizam al-din Awrangabadi (d. 1730) in which the practices of other †ariqahs are incorporated into the Chishti repertoire. See also the example of Ahmad Sirhindi in Damrel.

5. Francis Robinson, The “Ulama of Farangi Mahall and Islamic Culture in South Asia (Lahore: Ferozsons Ltd., 2002), 24; see also Fusfeld, 79: “The Naqshbandi Mujaddidi shaikhs claimed to have command over all the †ariqahs and all the silsilas. As a consequence, they were able to impart a spiritual affiliation with any silsila which was requested by a disciple, but could instruct him in a †ariqah which had developed historically within a different line of descent. The typical manifestation of this was the initiation of a disciple into one of the popular silsilas, the Qadiri or Chishti followed by training in accordance with the method of the Naqshbandiyya, a method which was always depicted in the writings of the Naqshbandi Mujaddidi shaikhs as most effective . . .”

6. Warren Fusfeld, “Naqshbandi Sufism and Reformist Islam,” Journal of Asian and African Studies XVIII, 3–4 (1983): 242.

7. See Annemarie Schimmel on the idea of the “Muhammadan Path” in the discourse of pre-modern Sufi groups in South Asia, North Africa and, later, Indonesia. Annemarie Schimmel, And Muhammad is His Messenger: The Veneration of the Prophet in Islamic Piety (Lahore: Sang i Mil Publications, 2003), 216–225. In her preliminary study on Dard, Dr. Schimmel draws some comparisons between the three main Naqshbandi reformers of eighteenth-century India: Shah Waliallah, Mirza Mazhar Jan Janan and Dard. Annemarie Schimmel, Pain and Grace: A Study of Two Mystical Writers of 18th Century India (Leiden: Brill, 1976), chap. 1 passim.

8. For more on the Mujaddidi understanding of tawhid, see the partial translations of Sirhindi’s letters on the subject by Muhammad ‘Abd al Haqq Ansari, Sufism and Shari “ah: A Study of Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi’s Effort to Reform Sufism (Leicester: The Islamic Foundation, 1986), 249–254. See also Burhan Ahmad Faruqi, The Mujaddid’s Conception of Tawhid (Lahore: Sh. Muhammad Ashraf, 1940), 57–94.

9. IK, 85–86.10. Jean During, “What is Sufi Music,” In The Heritage of Sufism, ed. Leonard

Lewisohn (Oxford: Oneworld, 1999), 279.

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11. Munshi Razi al din Qawwal, Draft copy of unpublished interview conducted by Mustansir Husayn Tarrar (Islamabad, Lok Virsa).

12. Sama“ as a spiritual practice has been mired in controversy. For an idea of the debate, see Amnon Shiloah, Music in the World of Islam (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1995), chap. 4 passim. Lois Ibsen al-Faruqi, ‘Music, Musicians and Muslim law’, Asian Music 17.1 (1985).

13. These were all revealed in the form of quatrains (ruba‘iyat). The commentary comes to more than 600 pages in print.

14. Khwajah Mir Dard, Chahar Risalat (Nalah-i Dard, Ah-i Sard, Dard-i Dil, Sham“-i Mehfil) (CR). (Bhopal: Matba‘-i shahjahani, 1892–3).

15. Nasir Nadhir Firaq, Maykhanah i Dard (Delhi, 1925) The Maykhanah is the only real hagiography of Dard, composed by a descendant. Firaq is writing 125 years after Dard’s death and the elaborate detail with which he describes the circumstances of Dard’s life make it difficult to ascertain the reliability of this source. We can suppose that the bulk of this work is made up of details passed down through family lore. It is also not unusual that the facts presented by Firaq are largely absent in tazkirat contemporaneous with Dard, as these never pretended to be comprehensive histories or biographies. Firaq’s intention in writing the Maykhanah is sincerely, poignantly and credibly expressed. Fear of his mother’s death (she was Dard’s descendant and steeped in the family’s knowledge and traditions) prompted him to put Dard’s life to paper, during which he cross-checked the text with his learned parents and incorporated their suggestions. (Firaq, 4–6 f.n.) I would approach this source with a small degree of skepticism and beware of some exaggeration or glossing on the part of the author and his family, as may realistically happen in the service of an ancestor.

16. According to Frances Pritchett in her excellent work on the devaluation of the ghazal in Urdu literary theory, tazkirat i shu“ara were not originally intended by their authors as a source of biographical information on poets. Rather, these grew out of the personal notebooks (bayaz) that poets, or those who enjoyed the art, carried to record verses that particularly struck them. The notebooks were meant for a selective audience with considerable background in the art of poetry and, in a pre-print milieu, served to disseminate poetry. Since the focus of tazkirat is the poetry itself, however, the biographies don’t pretend to be comprehensive. Frances Pritchett, Nets of Awareness: Urdu Poetry and Its Critics (Karachi: Oxford University Press, 1995), Chapter 5 passim. Tazkirah writing came into its own in Dard’s lifetime. The tazkirat used for this article are contemporaneous and based on personal interaction with Dard.

17. For the philosophical elaboration and development of wahdat i wujud up to the 17th century, see Toshihiko Izutsu, Creation and the Timeless Order of Things: Essays in Islamic Mystical Philosophy (Oregon: White Cloud Press, 1994), Chapter 3 passim. Because of Ibn ‘Arabi’s extensive discussions on wujud, from many perspectives dictated by different stages of knowledge on the sufi path, the term wahdat i wujud is commonly (and mistakenly) ascribed to him. “Sirhindi’s reaction to wahdat al-wudjud occurs in the context of its relatively new-found fame and its general ascription to Ibn al-‘Arabi. He objects to it, he says, because a large number of his contemporaries were employing it as a pretext to avoid observing the rulings of the Shari‘a . . . In explaining its meaning, he demonstrates little acquaintance with the writing of Ibn al-‘Arabi or the major figures who discussed the issues . . . At least partly because wudjud in his understanding had none of the earlier connotations of finding, he felt it necessary to insist that seeing God in all things goes back to the viewer and does not offer a final explanation of the nature of reality.” William Chittick, “Wahdat al-Shuhud” inThe Encyclopaedia of Islam New Edition Eds. P. J. Bearman, Th. Bianquis, C. E. Bosworth, E. van Donzel, W. P. Heinrichs. (Brill: Leiden, 2002), 37–39.

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Sirhindi stressed the subjectivity of the experience of unity of existence: the existence of creation and Creator only appear to be united in the experience of the wayfarer. Objective reality is not the popular expression hama ust (All is Him) but hama az ust (All is from Him), and thus wahdat i shuhud, or unity of appearance, is the most apt way to describe this experience.

18. For example, Shah Waliallah’s attempt in his Faysalat i wahdat al wujud wa”l shuhud to minimize the differences between the two doctrines prompted a counter-attack by a disciple of Mirza Mazhar Jan i Janan, Shah Ghulam ‘Ali Yahya (d. 1824), whose Kalimat al Haqq rejected any reconciliation between the ideas of Sirhindi and Ibn ‘Arabi. This later provoked repudiation by Waliallah’s son Rafi‘ al Din (d. 1818) as well as a clearer restatement of the differences between the two schools of thought by Shah Isma‘il (d. 1831), Waliallah’s grandson. Muhammad ‘Umar, Islam in Northern India During the Eighteenth Century (Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers: New Delhi, 1993), 115–124; Faruqi, 95–115.

19. IK, 614.20. IK, 5.21. “If unity of existence is firmly grasped, it is clear that possible existents and the

Necessarily Existent are not one and the same (All is from Him). However, the language of All is He, while potentially extremely beneficial for the elect, does great harm among the general public. When they take their first sip from the cup of unity, the reins of self control slip from their hands . . . Evil qualities, which had been veiled by the strength of differentiation, are revealed. Just as exoteric intoxicants are forbidden in the shari “ah of Muhammad, the Muhammadi path forbids esoteric intoxication (sharab i ba†ini).” IK, 184. Consequently, unity of appearance is a better way to describe reality, but only when duality doesn’t become an obstacle to reaching unity. IK, 541.

22. The level of Nondelimited Existence, which corresponds to the Essence, is the Level Without Condition (martaba bila shart” i shai” ). If one regards it from the point of view that it requires the negation of all illusory things (salb i “itibarat), Existence becomes conditional on this negation (martaba bi shart” i la shai” ). If one regards it from the point of view that it requires that all be ascribed to it (ijab i iyafat), it becomes conditional on this necessity (martaba bi shart” i shai” ). Both these lesser levels are subsumed within the Level Without Condition. “Itibarat are related to negation, non-being, non-existents, and the conditional existential level of bi shart” i la shai”, while iyafat are related to necessity, being, existents, and the conditional existential level of bi shart” i shai”. IK, 104–105. The unity of existence and appearance are ascriptive and limited. Unity of existence is at the level of bi shart” i shai” and unity of appearance is at the level of bi shart” i la shai”. Muhammadi unicity is nondelimited and corresponds to the level of bila shart” i shai”. As the nondelimited level of existence, it encompasses all delimitations, including the unities of existence and appearance. IK, 614.

Dard discusses the development of these two concepts of unity, relating their eventual modification to historical context and to the needs of the spiritual elect and general public. By the time of ‘Andalib, both these relationships of unity had gained strength and become refined and sharpened. However, by not being gathered together, they became scattered and corrupted the original balance of temperament that existed at the time of the Prophet. Nondelimited unicity did not remain established in its original state, thus calling for a revitalization of its authenticity. IK, 609–613.

23. IK, 614.24. IK, 184–185.25. Dard refers to Fusus al Hikam, Futuhat al Makkiyah, and Insha” al Dawa”ir, as

well as the Fusus commentaries of ‘Abd al Razzaq Kashani (d. 1330) and his student Dawud

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Qaysari (d. 1350). IK, 133–138, 402; CR, 188 (Dard 216) The commentaries of the latter two are considered “the two most influential of the Fusus tradition.” William Chittick, The Sufi Path of Knowledge (Albany: SUNY Press, 1989), xviii. In his survey and ranking of Persian and Arabic Sufi manuscripts in India that display some influence of Ibn ‘Arabi and his school, Chittick ranks the “Ilm al Kitab as IV, signifying “an important text in Ibn ‘Arabi’s school; or deals in detail with the debate between supporters of wahdat al-wujud and wahdat al-shuhud.” William Chittick, “Notes on Ibn al-‘Arabi’s Influence in the Subcontinent,” in Muslim World 82 (1992), 220.

26. IK, 401.27. For example, the “Ilm al Kitab contains extensive discussions on form and hyle

(hayula), in which Dard explains and modifies the ideas of Ibn ‘Arabi and Qaysari, and on renewal of likenesses (tajaddud i amthal ), where he challenges both Qaysari and Kashani. IK, 134–137, 402.

28. IK, 161.29. IK, 307.30. Ibid.31. IK, 587.32. IK, 613.33. IK, 576.34. IK, 88.35. IK, 307.36. IK, 466.37. IK, 87–88.38. IK, 466.39. IK, 88.40. IK, 3, 613.41. IK, 64–65.42. For example, because neither the Qur’an nor the hadith allude to God with the

word wujud (existence), and because wujud is not one of the accepted Divine Names, Muhammadi terminology describes God as light (nur). The definitions of existence and light coincide, in that they are both manifested by their own essence and are loci of manifestation for other than themselves. Nondelimited existence (the level of la bi shar†) is called the Light of Lights (nur al anwar). Existence at the level of bi shar† i shay is called the establishing light (nur i thabit), while at the level of bi shar† i la shay, it is the negating light (nur i salib). Following from this, nonexistence (“adam) is called darkness (zulmat), based on the Qur’anic concept of God leading man from the darkness into the light. (For example, Qur’an 5:16, 14:1, 33:43). These terms were unveiled to Dard by the grace of the Prophet. IK, 107.

43. For example, the stage of sulah which consists of repenting all sins, particularly the sin of ego that is the source of all evil, is connected to kana tawwaban (He is an Acceptor of repentance) (Qur’an 110:3). The stage of sabr in which the wayfarer acquires the ability, through the strength of presence, to bear all afflictions, such that greater affliction leads her even closer to God, is connected to al-sabirina alladhina idha asabathum musibatun qalu inna li”llahi wa inna ilayhi raji“un (Those who are patient in adversity, who, when calamity befalls them, say: “We belong unto God and unto Him shall we return.”) (Qur’an 2:155–156) IK, 565–567.

44. In Sirhindi‘s terminology, the imperfect state of kufr i †ariqah is “the state of union (maqam i jam“ ) in which reality is hidden, and distinctions between truth and untruth disappear . . . He [the servant] identifies the object of manifestation with the Manifesting Being, the world with God, and the servant with the Lord.” Sirhindi, Maktubat, Vol. II:95, p. 1139, quoted in Ansari, 46–47. This is in contradistinction to the perfection of islam i

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†ariqah, the experience of difference after union, wherein distinctions return and truth can be separated from untruth. Ansari, 192–193. Hidden shirk should not be mistaken for shirk jali (manifest shirk), which is ascribing partners to the unicity of God’s Essence and equivalent to real unbelief (kufr). IK, 88.

45. IK, 88.46. IK, 588.47. IK, 87.48. Ansari, 17. However, a secondary line of Naqshbandi spiritual descent is

connected to the fourth caliph ‘Ali b. Abi Talib (as opposed to the primary line of descent from the first caliph Abu Bakr) and some Naqshbandis practice the vocal dhikr taught to ‘Ali by the Prophet Muhammad. For examples of vocal dhikr among the Naqshbandis, see Hamid Algar, “Silent and Vocal Zikr in the Naqshbandi Order,” In Akten des VII Kongresses für Arabistik und Islamwissenschaft, Göttengen, 15–22 August 1974 (Göttengen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1976), 44–46.

49. Friedmann, 44; J. G. J. Ter Haar, “The Naqshbandi Tradition in the Eyes of Ahmad Sirhindi,” In Gaborieau, Popovic and Zarcone, 85.

50. ‘Umar, 126.51. This is the state of those who, at the stage of experiencing God’s Attributes, shift

from Name to Name and fluctuate between Attributes. Hazrat Mujaddid Alf i thani al-Shaykh Ahmad Sirhindi, Maktubat i Imam Rabbani, ma“ hawashi wa sharh az “Allamah i Ajal Mawlana Nur Ahmad (Lahore: Nur Company, 1964), Maktub 285, Daftar i awwal, Hissah Panjam, 43.

52. Friedmann, 68; Ter Haar, “The Naqshbandi Tradition,” 85 Sirhindi also notes that it is only those who are unaware of the reality of prayer who have made sama“ and song (naghmah) a way to soothe their agitation and restlessness. The Prophet said that prayer is the mi“raj of believers; though seeing God is an impossibility in the finite world, the act of prayer brings believers closest to this treasure. Those who seek the desired objective through the “curtain of song” are deluded. If even a ray of the reality of the perfections of prayer was unveiled to them, they would never again mention sama“ or song. Sirhindi, Maktub 261, Daftar i Awwal, Hissah Chaharam, 115–118.

53. Sama“ can be fruitful for some of those who are nearing the heights of the path (muntahiyan) but find themselves unable to move beyond a certain point. Sama can provide that push, the “heat” (hararat), that propels ascension but there are many conditions for its use. However, Sirhindi believes that the type of sama“ and dance (raqs) in vogue in his day is only harmful, negating ascent and progress. Sirhindi, Maktub 285, Daftar i awwal, Hissah Panjam, 43–48.

54. Ter Haar, “The Naqshbandi Tradition,” 85.55. Umar, 126–127 For example, Shah Waliallah’s son, Shah ‘Abd al ‘Aziz Dihlawi

explained a certain individual’s indulgence in sama“ by his marriage into followers of a Chishti saint, whereby “he received ecstasy and sama“ as dowry.” ‘Abd al ‘Aziz Dihlawi, Malfuzat i Shah “Abd al “Aziz, ed. Qadhi Bashiral-din (Meerut, 1896–1897), 18, in ‘Umar, 127.

56. CR, Ah 257, 117. Dard praises Shah Sa‘d allah Gulshan as his father’s pir i sohbat, adding that he was deeply involved in the art of music (dar “ilm i musiqi dakhal i tamam dashtand).

57. A. D. Nasim, “Khwajah Mir Dard ka Khandan,” in Khwajah Mir Dard: Tanqidi o Tahqiqi Mutala“a, eds. S. Siddiqi and A. Ahmad (New Delhi: S. A. Publications, 1993), 112.

58. Schimmel, Pain and Grace, 55.59. Ghulam Hamadani Mushafi, Tazkirah i Hindi (Uttar Pradesh Urdu Academy:

Lucknow, 1985), 100; Hakim Abu’l Qasim Mir Qudrat allah al mutakhallis Qasim,

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murattabah Mahmud Shirani, Majmu“ah i Naghz ya“ni tazkirah i shu“ara i Urdu, dar do jild (National Academy: Delhi, 1973) vol. I, 240.

60. Firaq, 147.61. ‘Umar cites the tazkirah of Muhammad Qudrat allah Shawq, Tazkirah i takmilat

i shu“ara, MS. no. 2414 (Raza Library, Rampur), 227–228. ‘Umar, 164, f.n. 727; Firaq, 148.62. I am indebted to Dr. Moazzam Siddiqi for his suggestions regarding translation

of some musical terms.63. Shawq, 228 in ‘Umar, 164 f.n. 728; Mushafi, 100, where he writes that Dard

himself “perpetrated” the act of song.64. If biographers felt compelled to include this fact, this figure may well be the

renowned Firoz Khan “Adarang”, nephew and disciple of Ni‘mat Khan “Sadarang”. As the first known kalawant to have taken up the khayal genre (for political reasons, according to Katherine Brown), the latter played a decisive role in the development of khayal in early 18th century Delhi. His first patron was Awrangzib’s son Muhammad A‘zam Shah (d. 1707) and, during his own lifetime, Ni‘mat Khan’s khayal style became predominant in the Delhi music scene. Brown believes it is likely that the qawwal-bachche also transmitted his style along with their own to the emerging gharanas of the nineteenth century. Katherine Butler Brown, ‘The origins and early development of khayal.’ In The history of North Indian music. Edited by Joep Bor, Françoise ‘Nalini’ Delvoye, Jane Harvey and Emmie te Nijenhuis (New Delhi: Manohar, forthcoming).

65. Apparently, Firoz Khan praised Dard to this effect: “I swear by your paternal and maternal grandfathers, the manner in which your voice produces rags and ragnis, bringing out their elegance and form (rup sarup), even the professional musicians of today cannot match such singing (sangit)!” Firaq, 148 We must make allowances for Firaq’s colorful rendering!

66. Qasim, 240 A mixed Hindi/Persian composition which consisted of only one line in Persian was called a naqsh. Najma Ahmad, Hindustani Music, A Study of Its Development in Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (New Delhi: Manohar Publications, 1984), 137.

67. Khayal is the most popular and versatile classical vocal form in Hindustani music, and dhrupad, a more sober classical form with Hindu devotional origins.

68. The text says patta, but I believe this is a printing mistake. Tappa is a light classical vocal form that is very popular with the Gwalior gharana. Pandit Amarnath, Living Idioms in Hindustani Music: A Dictionary of Terms and Terminology (New Delhi: Vikas Publishing House, 1989), 114. In Rag Darpan, a 17th century work on music, tappa is described as “composed in two, four or more verses. It contains pairs of two verses separately.” Ahmad, 142.

69. Thumri is a popular light classical form and hori a form of †humri describing the festival of Holi.

70. Firaq, 151.71. Mushafi, 100.72. Firaq, 148–149.73. Mushafi, 100.74. Among these accounts are Firaq, 149; Mushafi, 100–101; Muhammad Husayn

Azad, Ab i Hayat (Lahore: Sang i Mil Publications, 2000), 158. Though the story differs slightly in details, the gist is the same.

75. Mushafi, 100. Qurayshi also quotes a statement from an unknown source that Mian Nawrang Kalawant, who was the best sarod player of his age, gave ba“yat to “Shaykh raushan zamir Khwajah Mir Dard.” Qurayshi, 147.

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76. Ay Dard maraz naghmahayam daryab Ahang i man az sawt o sadayam daryab Ay zamzamah-pardaz basan qanun Tafsil i maqamam az nawayam daryab

Khwajah Mir Dard, Diwan i Farsi, (Delhi: Matba‘ i ansari, 1892–3), 82.77. The concept of silent dhikr is associated with the companion and first caliph Abu

Bakr. It is believed that the Prophet Muhammad instructed him in this form of dhikr, the dhikr of the heart, when he and Abu Bakr were taking refuge in the cave. On the other hand, vocal dhikr is associated with the companion and fourth caliph ‘Ali b. Abi Talib. Algar, 40–41.

78. IK, 161, 637 Hamid Algar views the combined practice of vocal and silent recollection in the Naqshbandi order as a post-16th century development, and attributes it to the growing practice of simultaneous affiliation to several different orders. Interestingly, he notes that this phenomenon reached a climax in the nineteenth century “when a number of individuals emerged [in Transoxiana, India, and the Ottoman lands] each claiming to embody an ideal convergence of all the Sufi paths.” Algar, 44.

79. IK, 637.80. A Qur’anic term (for example, Qur’an 2:130, 3:95, 6:161).81. CR, 5 (Nala 18).82. IK, 613.83. Thierry Zarcone, “La Naqchbandiyya,” in Gilles Veinstein and Alexandre

Popovic, Les voies d’Allah: les ordres mystiques dans l’islam des origines à aujourd”hui (Paris: Fayard, 1996), 459.

84. Damrel, 189 I assume Gangohi was referring to Futuhat al Makkiyah. Though Dard doesn’t mention any Chishti affiliations, according to Firaq, his paternal grandfather had sworn allegiance to one of the leading Chishti-Sabiris of his time, Miran Shah Bhik. Firaq, 11 However, controversy surrounds the true identity of Dard’s paternal grandfather. For details, refer to Nasim, 62–76.

85. Like a dead fly spun into a spider’s web, these soulless critics spin the dead bodies of song into their web (a spider’s web is tar i “ankabut).

86. CR, 5 (Nala 25).87. CR, 7 (Nala 37).88. Ibid. Here, he is referring to the statement of Baha al din Naqshband mentioned

above.89. Mulla i qishri (mullahs of the husk), Dard’s derisive term for religious scholars

who have no knowledge of a thing beyond what is externally evident.90. CR, 84 (Ah 77).91. Ibid.92. CR, 7 (Nala 37).93. Mushafi, 100, Firaq, 166. Unfortunately, I have not yet found this work.94. Mushafi, 100.95. Nasim, 55–61. The Naqshbandis and the Mughal elite enjoyed a special

relationship, beginning with Babar and Khwajah ‘Ubaydallah Ahrar. See Richard Foltz, Mughal India and Central Asia (Karachi: Oxford University Press, 1998), Chapter 5 passim.

96. Katherine Butler Brown, “If music be the food of love: masculinity and eroticism in the Mughal mehfil.” In Francesca Orsini, ed. Love in South Asia: a cultural history (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), 66.

97. Brown, “If music be the food of love”, 74.98. “At the very top of this list were the kalawants, the primary exponents of the

highest prestige vocal genre dhrupad, and the two most venerated instruments, the bin and

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the pakhawaj, the latter explicitly gendered in the Mirzanama as masculine. The only other musicians fully acceptable in the mehfil were the qawwals of Hazrat Nizamuddin, all men, who were the pre-eminent exponents of the most unworldly form of khayal.” Brown, “If music be the food of love”, 74–75.

99. IK, 723.100. IK, 87.101. IK, 201–217 For example, attribution with the divine Name Rahim (The Merciful)

means propagating the Muhammadi path and concerning oneself with the salvation of pure Muhammadis, teaching practices, remembrances, etiquette, sciences, and austerities. (IK, 202) Attribution with the Names Hadi and Rashid (The Guide and The One Who Directs) means developing the ability to guide and lead wayfarers in the path of God, and bring to perfection the art of guidance. (IK, 216, 217).

102. IK, 60–63, 65 He compares his mission to that of the Prophet in Mecca, utilizing appropriate Qur’anic verses to describe his persona, his task, the reception of his ideas, and his reaction to his enemies, who use the same arguments against him as were once endured by the Prophet in Mecca. He claims that he is only a messenger from God. (IK, 112, 303) “This is a clear book (kitab mubin) . . . ,” he exclaims, “And I am nothing but a pure Muhammadi.” (IK, 65) His enemies call him a “crazy poet.” But, Dard writes, his book is not written according to his own desire. (IK, 60) The “Ilm al-Kitab is God-given; it is a book that speaks the truth (IK, 586) and the Qur’an itself watches over it. (IK, 559): “O People, without doubt I am on a clear proof from my lord. He has given me a book in which everything has been detailed. If God had sent me a book in paper form, you would touch it with your hands and say ‘It is clear magic!’ ” (IK, 590).

103. IK, 2–3, 60–61, 591; CR, 136 (Dard 3) In a dramatic passage, Dard writes:

“God showed me great signs and His highest Words. He granted me this book, and addressed me in this way: “O God’s deputy and sign. I bear witness to your servitude, and I bear witness with My revelation that you are My servant and My beloved and a beloved of My Prophet . . . O servant and knower of God, no doubt I have made you a comprehensive locus for all my manifestations. Thus, go with My signs to My creation, and invite them into the divine company and the Muhammadi company. Whosoever pays heed to you, pays heed to God and His Prophet.” [Dard] replied, “O my Lord, I have fulfilled all Your commands and I have called Your creation towards Your religion (din) and towards submission (islam). So guide them towards me and my father, so that I may guide them towards You and Your Prophet. You give guidance to whomsoever You will.” God replied, “O locus of descent of the incomings (waridat). O source of signs. Without a doubt We have created you as a sign for others so that they may be guided, but many do not know . . . Say: if reality was any greater than what has been revealed to me, truly God would have made it manifest to me. For God has perfected my religion for me and completed His blessings upon me, and made submission (islam) my religion. Were the veil ripped away, my belief could not increase further. My Lord is truly full of grace.” IK, 61.

104. IK, 195–196, 566–567.105. IK, 140.106. Bonnie Wade, “Music and Dance,” in The Magnificent Mughals, ed. Zeenut Ziad

(Karachi: Oxford University Press, 2002), 245.107. Dargah Quli Khan. Muraqqa“ i Dihli. Ed. Nur al-Hasan Ansari with original

Persian text and Urdu trans. (Delhi: Shuba i Urdu, 1982), 26–37. The Muraqqa“ recounts

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one such poetry session commemorating the great sabk i hindi poet Bedil. Khan, 30. On the Muraqqa“ i Dihli, Katherine Brown writes: “With respect to the mehfil, [Khan’s] evidence of high-ranking mirzas who personally performed in their mehfils, and of the entry of the bhands into elite musical space all the way up to the level of the emperor, arguably indicates real and significant changes in cultural practice from the seventeenth to the eighteenth centuries . . .” Brown, “If music be the food of love”, 82.

108. Khan, 81–113.109. Khan, 23–27.110. ‘Umar, 131, quoting the divan of the poet ‘Abd al Hayy Taban.111. Azad, 113.112. Qurayshi, 123, quoting the poet Mir Hasan Dihlavi.113. Firaq, 150–151.114. For example, the version presented by Manzur Niyazi. Rung: A Tribute to Sufi

Poets and Musicians, Vol. 4, Track 4. Produced by Khalid Ahmad and Kamran Anwar (Karachi: Citibank).

115. IK, 148.116. IK, 288–289.117. The Muhammadi pen must perform the same function as Moses’ staff — draw

others to the light of belief. IK, 513. For more on Dard’s ideas on speech, see Homayra Ziad, “The Nature and Art of Discourse in the Religious Writings of Khvaja Mir Dard,” The Annual of Urdu Studies Vol. 20 (2005): 145–165.

118. Marcia Hermansen, “Contemplating Sacred History in Late Mughal Sufism,” In The Heritage of Sufism, Volume 3: Late Classical Persianate Sufism (1501–1750), ed. Leonard Lewisohn and David Morgan (Oxford: Oneworld, 1999), 341–342.

119. I also believe that Dard, at a more elite and private level, used (and fashioned) the key cultural institutions of Urdu/rekhta poetry — the master-disciple relationship (ustadi-shagirdi) and the assembly of poetry recitation (musha“irah/murakhitah) — as a spiritual training ground.

120. It appears that Dard suffered accusations of shirk and kufr. IK, 162.