[EXPAT VOICE] The great whirling show of Konya

The five-hour long journey on Turkish Airlines (THY) from Karachi to İstanbul was smooth and the onboard service impeccable. I shall only be exaggerating a little to say that, if for no other reason, the European Union should take Turkey into its fold because of its standards in aviation. The drive from İstanbul to Ankara (approximately 250 kilometers) and from there to Konya (450 kilometers) was equally pleasant.

Visiting Maulana’s tomb

The first thing for us (my wife and I) to do upon arrival in Konya was visit the tomb of Maulana Rumi (1207-1273). The tomb is now part of a museum which was opened to the public in 1927. It covers an area of 6,500 square meters. As you go through the main entrance, you find yourself in a yard overlaid with marble and a fountain. There is a low-arched shrine door with a large sign affixed to it with an inscription that reads “O, revered Maulana.” The main chamber of the shrine is covered with three domes and was called the “Entrance of the Lovers.” Two tombs are situated on a high platform which has two sarcophagi; one is for Maulana himself and the other for his father. There is also a third one for his son (Sultan Veled). On the way to these tombs, we saw, on our left, two plaques. One was inscribed with Maulana’s advice: “Either you seem as you are, or become as you seem.” On the second one, appeared a popular “Rubaee” (quatrain) of Maulana which I noted:

 Come, come again whoever, whatever you may be

 Heathen, fire-worshipper, sinful of idolatry, come

 Come even if you broke your penitence a hundred times, come

 Ours is not the portal of despair and misery, come.

After offering “Fatiha” prayer at the shrine, we moved on to the museum, which displayed richly detailed inscriptions written on flower petals. In all, there are 1,500 rare manuscripts and 4,000 books. Some striking specimens of Maulana’s medallion designs and his “kula” (headdress) are arranged symmetrically. The oldest copy of the “Masnavi” exhibited there was handwritten by the calligrapher Muhammad in 1278. It is a supreme masterpiece of gilding art in calligraphy. The majestic April Bowl inlaid with gold and silver and engraved with a captivating design which was placed on an octagonal table inspired awe and surprise. Made in Mosul for Sultan Abu Saeed Bahadur Khan (1305-1335), this bowl was donated to the dervish lodge in 1333. According to Turkish customs, April rains were considered sacred and healing. As such, rainwater used to be collected in this bowl. After praying to God, Maulana’s “kula” was dipped into this water which was then presented to the guests as a “tabarruk” (sacred offering).

In the “semahane” (whirling chamber), we saw musical instruments such as the ney (reed flute), rabab (stringed fiddle), daf (tambourine), ancient violins, and so on. In the glass cases in the middle of the whirling chamber, the clothes of Maulana and his father are displayed. In other display cases, there are handwritten Qurans, small (12x11 cm) and large (67x42 cm). The museum also has Maulana’s prayer rugs, wall carpets and two sets of prayer beads, each containing 999 large elliptical balls made from the wood of walnut and lime trees. The holiest of all the collections at the museum is the “moo-e-mubarak” (the sacred hair of Prophet Muhammad’s [SAW] beard), enclosed in a mother of pearl-inlaid box.

Meeting Shams Tabrizi

In 1244, Rumi met a wandering dervish who was a learned man and a self-possessed Sufi (mystic) known to the world as Shams Tabrizi. He brought about a spiritual revolution in Maulana’s life by putting him into a state of trance. Maulana became so devotedly attached to him that on Shams’ death, it seemed that it would be impossible for Maulana’s lonesome, bruised heart and confused mind to ever be calmed. Gradually, however, his rebelliousness turned into intellectual maturation and he started expressing himself with the “Masnavi,” which consists of 25,618 verses written in the Persian language. With all this in mind, we visited the whirling chamber, close to the shrine in a large and luminous saloon within the museum. It also houses an area for musicians. There, when we enquired about the times for the whirling show, we received a great shock and our hearts began to sink. We were told that the show was held on Saturday. Our Turkish tour operator lacked foresight in planning our visit and sent us to Konya on Monday to return to İstanbul on Wednesday.

Luckily for us, our driver (Gündüz Fırat), a retired army officer and a man of dashing personality, somehow “discovered” that a special show was to be held near the shrine on Tuesday evening. He procured three tickets (including one for himself) for the show. Overwhelmed with excitement, we reached the place ahead of the schedule and occupied the foremost seats. To top it all, Konya Governor Aydin Nezih Doğan came, accompanied by his graceful wife, Madame Hatice Doğan, as the guest of honor that evening.

Before the start of the show, a few of the shrine’s dervishes came and spread sheep skins in a corner of the arena. They placed a red-colored skin just opposite the musicians’ podium at the other end. Minutes later, 19 dervishes, draped in black abas, came, meekly following their sheikh (spiritual leader), who was dressed in green. After the sheikh sat on the red skin, nine dervishes started playing the musical instruments and another nine sat with their legs folded on the sheep skins to his left. A “deputy” of the sheikh remained standing throughout to oversee the entire activity. The show started with a recitation of the Holy Quran followed by a “manqabat” (eulogy) for Rumi. Then the dervishes stood up and shed their black robes, putting them on the sheep skins. Beneath, they wore pure white long-sleeved, full-length robes. They advanced in groups of two and bowed their heads before the Sheikh, thus seeking his permission to start the dance.

That done, the dance began to the melody of the instruments and a heart-warming rendition of the “Masnavi.” With their right-hand palms facing the sky (as if imploring God) and their left turned to the ground, the dervishes created the impression that those who ask from God need no worldly support whatsoever to sustain themselves. Necks tilted at a particular angle, they repeatedly crisscrossed each other in ecstasy, without colliding or even touching their companions. The show reached its climax when the sheikh himself joined the team and began to dance as though completely removing himself from the rest of the world. It was a soul-stirring demonstration of spirituality. The hearts of the members of the audience were almost leaping out of their chests and they were not, for a while, quite themselves. The show continued for about an hour and ended with the recitation from the Holy Quran followed by a moving prayer.

As the assembly dispersed, I took the opportunity to meet the honorable governor and introduce myself. He was glad to know that I had come from Pakistan. He told me that he had visited Karachi some time back. He spoke well of Pakistan and its people and I reciprocated his sentiments.

I think it was a “karamat” (wonder) of the Maulana that we unexpectedly watched a magnificent show and also met the honorable governor. It was a literal interpretation of an Urdu proverb: “Chupri aur do do” (Having one’s cake and eating it too).