Manat at Bibi Pak Daman

Promises made at the Shrine of Bibi Pak Daman

By Rizwana Khan

‘Now, women forget all those things they don’t want to remember, and remember everything they don’t want to forget. The dream is the truth. Then they act and do things accordingly.’

from Their Eyes Were Watching God.

On special Muharram days, Shamma goes to the shrine of the 8th century mystic in Lahore. Lying in her bed, a feeling of satisfaction fills her soul as she remembers the منّت she made at the shrine of Bibi Pak Daman. Promises made here cannot be neglected.

Shamma had wanted to improve her lot in life. Several years ago, she had found love attaching a padlock to the iron bars of the shrine of Bibi Pak Daman. She had laid garlands of fresh flowers on the 6 graves, burned wick lamps, and promised to feed the beggars that swarmed around the shrine.

Before Shamma married Esa, her mother would take her to the shrine to make منّت for a number of things — she promised to donate a whole دیگ of cooked meat and rice to the poor in exchange for the healing of a sick child, a baby for a childless couple, or for help with her own finances situation. Sometimes she prayed out loud, weeping a little. Other times she sang along with the ملنگ dancing barefoot on the marble-lined floors, their long orange beards and stained green robes fluttering in the breeze. Like other young unmarried girls, Shamma would look around hoping to find a mate for herself in the throngs of people entering the gates of the shrine.

In the courtyard, women sat in a circle, their soft cotton chador covering the short wooden legs of their پیڑیاں, now hidden from view. They retold the legend of the graves of the 6 ladies from the household of the Prophet Muhammad. 

The ladies traveling alone after the tragic battle at Karbala managed to reach Lahore. The local Hindu ruler tried to have them detained because their proselytizing had resulted in a large following of newly converted Muslims in his territory. Fearing the actions of the soldiers being sent to arrest them, the ladies prayed for protection. Miraculously, the earth split in two and they all disappeared inside it. Only a piece of Bibi Ruqayyah bint Ali’s دوپٹا remained. This piece of her scarf, pure and unsullied, gave the name “Bibi Pak Daman” to the shrine.

The first time Shamma saw Esa was when he came to the shrine of Bibi Pak Daman with his wife. Esa was younger than his wife and had a boyish charm that immediately caught her attention. They had come to pray for a child like many of the other couples in the crowd. Three years into their marriage, they were still waiting for his wife to conceive. 

Shamma returned to her prayers but stopped mid-sentence when she felt his hand on hers. At that exact moment, she clicked the padlock shut around the iron bars of the shrine window. He smiled as if to say, ”Nobody needs to know about this.” They gazed into each other’s eyes and fell in love right there in midst of the magical mystic chants.

Not everyone in the country believes in mystics and shrines. Some even equate it to شرک —a return to polytheistic traditions. A custom that needs to be shut down whatever it takes.

They were still looking at each other when suddenly the ground shook. Blue and white tiles fell to the ground and shattered. Flags still attached to the poles fluttered in panic as women’s screams pierced the skies. Shamma rushed outside into the safety of the blue skies that had now turned dark gray. 

Esa emerged from the haze of dust and ash, caught her in his arms and said, “This is how it is supposed to be. We were born to be together, forever. You’ll be my next wife and give me children and fulfill my منّت. I have promised two دیگ of meat and rice for each child.”

Ambulances passed by, their sirens blaring.Trying to avoid the falling debris from the buildings, she stayed close to Esa and his wife.  

“What is the point of this violence and destruction?” she asked. 

“Religious militants cannot allow differing opinions. Suicide bombers will destroy us.”

Guilt ridden, but happy, Shamma sat with them on the rubble praying for forgiveness of her sins known and unknown.

“Am I in the way?” Esa’s wife said quietly. She understood that Pak Bibi Daman had chosen another younger wife for her husband. A wife who could deliver him a child.

“No. It isn’t like that,” Esa said, “In my منّت I promised to care for you regardless of what happens.”

Esa and Shamma picked up a couple of flower garlands that had survived the bomb blast. They laid them on the shrine and dropped a few rupees into the transparent plastic donation box which was also still intact. 

Ana’s منّت had been fulfilled in a private ceremony. Now she had to organize the food for the poor. Promises made at a shrine cannot be neglected.

The Holy graves with rose petals and the rose garlands on the altars.

The padlock attached to the railings. The key stays with us so that we don’t forget.