The Legends of Alhambra

"Give him a coin, women, for there is nothing worse in this life than to be blind in Granada.'

http://www.flickr.com/photos/nasirgondal/sets/72157631361023114/

Two days from now, on January the 2nd, will be the five hundred and twenty first anniversary of the Fall of Granada. On this day in 1492, Abdullah Mohammad the Twelfth,  Boabdil left the city as the last ruler of Muslim Spain. 

Granada it is, the ultimate tourist attraction in Spain. More than eight thousand tourists a day, and unless you have bought the ticket months in advance, you cannot see the Nasrid Palace. Yes it is the  Nasrid Palace we mean when we say and speak of Alhambra. Not so big in size; in fact not big at all. 

The beauty of Alhambra is not the size, on the contrary it is the economy of space. Moors knew they have not much space on the mountain top to make it big. The geometric illusions make it look a lot bigger than what it is.

And the water. "Alhambra is decorated with water: standing still, cascading, masking secret conversations, and drip-dropping playfully". 

Spaniards were and still are fascinated by the legacy of Moors. They were believed to have power of the occult. There are stories of hidden treasures left by Moors with spell cast so that once the Moors come back, they can reclaim them. It is more or less what we grew up listening to the stories of hidden treasure buried somewhere in the houses and havelis Hindus left. It is perhaps the psychological impact of a race whom one always has apprehensions about and one builds myths about their unnatural powers and undue advantages.

All this is expressed the many tales and fables about Alhambra and its surroundings. Spaniards were really 'enchanted' by the beauty and the charm of the palace. They had to believe something magical about it. There are numerous tales, well archived by Washington Irving and the like, in Arabian Night style, about the Moors hiding in the caves,  for centuries only waiting for the right time to strike back.

Most of these tales conveniently describe Moors as cunning and evil magicians, their women beautiful and wide eyed. They usually end with the victory of the good (Christians) over the evil (Moors). These are all fascinating stories and Irving has masterly narrated them.

There is a story of an astrologer Ibrahim ibn Abu Ayub, son of Abu Ayub Ansari, who mastered the art of living for ever, but only in his old age, so he has to live for ever as an old man.. He travels to Granada, then ruled by Tariq Bin Zayad's lieutenant Abu Hazen. The astrologer helps the king through magic to foresee  the enemies and defeat them preemptively. Eventually the twain end up fighting with each other over a Christian princess and Ibrahim claims the prize by putting a spell on the princess and taking her along with him under the Gate of Justice. They will remain there until the hand carved in the Gate of Justice reaches the key inscribed into it. see below 

Then there is the almost Saiful Malook  like story of Prince Ahmed Kamal who is kept away from women right from the early life by his father as he was told that he will fall in love really badly. Kept in the tower of Generalife Gardens, he is told about love by a bird in love, a dove. He comes to know of a Christian princess Aldegonda in a far away land and is smitten with the unseen love. Then with the help of a wise Owl and a conniving Parrot he runs away and finds his way to Seville, Cordoba and ultimately to Toledo where he wins the hand of the princess in a Soyember like feast. King, the father of the princess, does not agree and Ahmed Kama runs away on a magical flying carpet attributed to the King of Kings, the fabled King Solomon. It all ends well when the king finds out on reaching Granada in revengeful pursuit that his daughter is now the sultana of Granada.

Then there is the story of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda, the three daughters of Al Hayzari, the Left Handed king of Granada. Their mother was a Christan princess who died soon after giving birth to the triplets. Al Hayzari was forewarned by sages that something will happen, so he kept them away from public eye as they grew up. The overprotective father was unaware that his daughters fell  in love with three Castillian princes who were prisoners in Granada. In the end the girls plan to run away, by climbing down a rope out of the palace. The youngest one falters and is left behind. Her her soul still haunts the palace, until a Christian comes to rescue her and relive her desperate spirit from the eternal mourning. It is eventually done by a girl who is a descendant of the same prince who were to marry Zorahayda.

Then there are stories of ordinary men finding hidden treasures in Alhambra after striking a lucky charm here and there.

These stories inspired the treasure hunters to find and dig in various places; none has been found so far, except what I consider as the gold mine, mentioned in the end of this post.

Walking through the rooms of Alhambra, one is constantly reminded of these fables which only a century ago may have seemed almost real.

The Alhambra Palace can be divided into three sections. if not four. The tour really takes you through in that sequence. You enter by the outer quarter where the common man was heard for any complaints or official business, the second is the place where the royals met the royal and elite guests, and the last is the private quarter area, which leads to the fourth section, the private gardens.

GATE OF JUSTICE:
It is where the entrance to Alhambra was from the old fort. It is mounted by a dome with has the shape of a hand on one side and a key inscribed on the other side. There is a story that once the hand reaches the key, the treasures of Granada will be revealed.

MEXUAR: As the main entrance of Alhambra is closed by the ill fated decision of Charles V when he chose that spot for his personal palace, now one has to enter through the side door ie the Maxuar.



It has some christian influences, but you start seeing what you will see for the next three to four hours. Endless geometric mosaics, wood ceilings, stucco 'stalactites"  ceramic tiles, molded-plaster walls, and filigree windows. The hallmark is the nine thousand plus times repeated phrase of Wa La Ghaliba illala. 

COURTYARD OF THE MYRTLES:The Maxuar leads into a small courtyard which through the side door takes you to the most picturesque place, the Courtyard of Myrtles. The still pond with the reflection of the palace in it, doubles the dimension. 




BARAKA ROOM:
In fact it is Baraka  room ie for the divine blessing, but as in Spanish the work barka means ship, it is now called the Ship Room. It's ceiling is like an upside down hull shape , so the name ship. 


GRAND HALL OF THE AMBASSADORS:
The main room is the Hall of the Ambassadors. It is here the King would greet the guests. The way it is placed, high up in the palace, the guest would have a magnified impression of the size of the room and its grandeur. Through the windows in the walls, one can see the deep valley down. It is this room where the last Muslim king Abdullah "Boabdil" signed the Granada treaty, closing the last chapter of Muslim rule in Spain.




COURTYARD OF THE LOINS:
Through the other end of the Myrtles one enter into the private quarters. Here is the fabled Courtyard of Loins. It is one of the wonders of the Palace. It is fabled that the fountain was a gift by Jewish subjects to the King. It has twelve loins, perhaps depicting the twelve months of the year or the twelve Jewish tribes. At each hour the water would flow out of the mouth of one loin. When the catholic monarchs took over, they dismantled the fountain to find out the way it works. They never figured it out and could not reassemble it again. There has been various theories about how it worked but no one can found it out. Now after a long while the fountain is working under a new engineering plan, but it is still not clear if it is the original way.



There is a section in the palace detailing the UNESCO research about the fountain and the various theories about how it worked.

It is the courtyard of the Loins where the most of the Pakistani movie Gharnata is set. It leads into the Hall of two sisters, a cool place for the Harem members to rest. On the other side is the Hall of Abbercerrages where it is famed that one of the king killed many members of the family to get the line of succession to the other wife's children.

THE WALL POETRY:

Perhaps there never was a monument more characteristic of an age and people than the Alhambra; a rugged fortress without, a voluptuous palace within; war frowning from its battlements; poetry breathing throughout the fairy architecture of its halls.

Most of the inscription is all poetry. The poems are as if the walls of the palace are talking to the visitor and describing the atmosphere. Mostly praising the king.




All these charms and stories of hidden treasures of Alhambra seems to be realized now by the Spaniards of today. The amount of revenue generated by the relics of Moors all over the Spain, and specially in Alhambra tells me that the hidden treasures have been revealed and Spaniards for generations to come will reap the benefits of the infidel Moors they successfully and ruthlessly drove away from a land they called home for almost eight centuries. 

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References:

1. http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/i/irving/washington/i72a/part41.html
2. Rick Steves' Spain 2012

Rituals of Bereavement

As the time is catching up on us, we hear of death more often than before. It is either someone we know or a close one of someone we know. I am used to condolences. It is a part of my business dealing with cancer. In our office one death is often a premonition of another two. They usually leave us three at a time.

Even then, when in the last month I attended six mournful gatherings, it was more than a fare share, all things considered. 

First there was the demise of Dr Riaz Chaudhary's (Pulmonologist) mother-in-law. She passed away in Baltimore and buried in Upstate NY. We drove to Newburgh for a fatiha and qurankhwani. 

Weeks later mother of Dr Shaukat Hussain (Neurologist) suddenly died in Long Island. Janaza was at Masjid Hamza in Valley Stream. He was kind enough to take care of my dying father eighteen years back. His son, a medical student is one of the Huffaz who lead the taraweeh  prayers at ICLI. 

Weeks later Dr Abdul Majeed's (Pulmonologist) sister died after a prolonged illness. She was like on of the sisters many of us have who took care of you when you arrived in a strange land and took you into their arms. Janaza was at ICLI Long Island. 

Within a week was the death of Abdul Hamid's (Shaheen Sweets) wife, Janaza was at Bait uz Zafar. 

Then the mother of Dr Iqbal Jangda (psychiatrist) passed away in Karachi. He flew to Pakistan, stayed there for one and a half days to attend the soyem and came back to have quran khwani at ICLI. 

Lastly mother of Dr Askari Jaffry (Internist) Risalat Fatima passed away in Connecticut. Janaza and quran khawani was at Khoi Center in Jamaica, NY. Askari is the youngest of the brothers. All very active in the community from Westchester to Connecticut. His elder brother Shaukat Jaffri is  known to many. Askari is Zoha's class mate from Dow and is married to the daughter of a close family friend of ours, Dr Nasir Zaidi. 

These deaths and their related events or rituals took me to peoples homes and their houses of worships. I went to three different mosques, sunni, ahmadi and shia. Although the basic ingredient of a mournful gathering is recitation of Quran in some form or another, people do other rituals in different ways. The most engaging and riveting one was the celebration of death at the Khoi Center. It was the soyem event, started with recitation of Quran by participants. Then there was the prayers, maghrabain. Striking difference in communal prayer was that the Imam said the whole prayers loudly, including the sentences and phrases during prostration and sitting, but did stay silent during the qayyam of the last two rakats. 

After the prayers, there was a sitting session, which started with the recitation of Chapter Yaseen and then a prayer for the deceased. 

And then there was poetry. The whole session was devoted to the subject of motherhood. Four poets recited their poetry in Urdu. It was quite touching, given the relevance of the occasion. It was followed by salaam and a speech by an orator. 

Shia's recipe of grief management is to overlap the grief at hand with the tragedy of Karbala. It helps one express grief profusely and thus it becomes therapeutic. 

All these six deaths I mention were of individuals who had lived a full and rich life. They had seen their near and dear ones grow up and be successful in their own right. Deaths are to be mourned and that is what we do to help each other go through these tough times. But the pain of these deaths to their survivors pale in comparison the massacre of elementary school children in Connecticut. Those nascent lives, full of dreams and hopes were mercilessly and senselessly cut short.

It was during one of the dirges of Karbala when the slaughter of children was lamented that I could make the connection with the death of innocence in Newtown Connecticut. I could not stop being teary eyed. 

Rituals is not a bad word after all.

Oh Lord!

Let be forgiven the Alive and the Deceased

The Present and the Absent

The Young and the Adults

The Men and the Women.

Let the Living live at Peace

And the Dying die with Faith

Prayers In An Ahmadi Mosque

Unless one came to the United States in the last five years, it is hard to think that one does not know about Shaheen Sweets. It started as a small shop in Lexington Avenue in Manhattan in 1973. Then it had an exponential rise. By the time I came here in 1988, it was almost on its zenith. There was a sweet factory on Broadway in Jackson Heights, along with another restaurant in the area and the sweets were shipped all across the USA and Canada. Once I was in LA in an Indian grocery store and the only mithaee was of Shaheen. Later it had a slow decline when many competitions arrived, both Pakistani and Indian, and later Bangla Deshi. Now the Manhattan restaurant is gone, one in Jackson Heights is closed and the other is only a sideshow of sweets with the main food service by Dera restaurant. The founder, Abdul Hamid had retired and the sons presumably went their own ways. One moved to Baltimore. One grandson Zeeshan, opened a shop in Hicksville Long Island. That is close to our home and if food at our home is catered from outside, most of the time it is from there.

On Dec 11th, Naseer Sahib, the lifetime loyal of Shaheen informed me about the passing away of Zeeshan's grandmother and of the funeral the day after next, in the middle of the day,  I made necessary arrangements to be there.

So on December the 13th, I entered an Ahmadi place of worship for the first time in my life. Growing up we always had Ahmadi friends. Many a time due to my father's liberal interaction with anyone who was interested in talking, we had Ahamdi enthusiasts working overtime to convert him. I think he visited Qadian a few times in his early life. I grew up reading left over copies of Al Fazl newspaper all the times. But I never went to an Ahmadi mosque until now. 

Sometime during the gradual tightening of the noose on Ahmadi way of life in Gen Zia's time they were disallowed to use the word Masjid for their places of worship. So all of their  masajid were renamed as Bait. Perhaps they got so much used to it that they now call the masjid here in NY as bait; perhaps a way to distinguish themselves.

I had seen the place from outside all the times. It is on my way home. A friend of mine had told me months back that Ahmadis have bought a big place just off the Grand Central Parkway on 188th street. It is named Bait uz Zafar, named after the first Foreign Minister of Pakistan. Apart from being the most famous Ahmadi in Pakistan Movement, he has other claims to have a place of worship named after him. He has translated Quran in English and it a pretty good translation.

It is a converted place, perhaps a school or a church. Quite spacious for NY, and in the middle of a thriving neighborhood. A very prominent place. The entrance is very visitor friendly and has information on the Ahmadi creed on the walls. The display is pretty impressive with many translations of Quran by Ahmadis in various languages. The main hall is a divided auditorium, front for men and rear for women. 

It seems like that Ahmadis have more of an emphasis to have the head covered, for men. Not that much emphasis on the beard, however. Most of the bearded persons have beard like me, less than half an inch. I remember in old days it was called the  ahmadi dhaari.  People of recognized responsibility don the qaraquli cap, and most of the rest have some sort of a head gear. The pictures of all the leaders in the hallway had either qaraquli caps or the turbans, once make popular by their founder. I remember Dr Abdus Salam wearing that type of turban when accepting the Nobel prize.

The actual funeral was preceded by Zuhr Prayers. The azaan was the same as what I had heard all my life. Not that much emphasis on the melody of recitation. The imam who led the prayer was a traveler and led the prayer in the familiar way. All the rituals were like I have grown up with. In fact some of the other sects have somewhat different rituals and one is sometimes not sure how to follow, but not here. Most of the nonahmadi's like me prayed behind the imam. expect a few. Many of us Non Ahmadis were either trying to establish an eye contact with each other or actively trying to avoid that. In the end most of us did blend in. 

Imam had informed the congregation that he was a traveler and he will only pray for two rakats and the locals should continue the rest of the prayer on their own. That is the way it happens all the times. Somehow most of the congregation did finish the prayer with him, and joined him again for the two kasr for Asar prayers. Perhaps most were travelers like the Imam. 

The janaza prayer was also exactly the same as the sunni prayer. Although it is silent, but the Imam was mouthing the words in a big whisper ( as sometimes they do to guide the congregation on what to recite) and it was of the same sequence ie subhanakallahuma/darood/allahuma agfir-- and without the alhamd.

There was however no communal prayer at the end of the namaz or the janaza, like raising hands and offering supplications. 

Noticeable exception was that the women did not line up for the janaza. It may not be a creed thing. and perhaps the culture of a particular mosque. In our masjid  at ICLI, women do line up for funeral, if they desire so.

All things considered, it was not much different than any other funeral I attend. Somehow funerals and memorials have increasingly become a part of social calender, perhaps a factor of our age as a community. Going in I had cautious skepticism, coming out I felt somewhat good about being there.

Somehow I felt writing about it.