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Mela Chiraghan: Let there be light
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The devotees make their mannats (wishes) by offering candles and oil to feed the fire that gives Mela Chiraghan its name.
The heart of Shalimar town, Lahore, beats in sync with thedhol, its arteries clogged with thousands of people, shoving each other in a hurry to reach the alao (huge fire) at the center. The flames light up the shrine of the Sufi saint and poet, Shah Hussain, on Mela Chiraghan or the festival of lights, the three-day urs marking his 426th death anniversary.
Thousands of devotees from all over the country flock to the shrine in the last few days of March, to pay their respects and honour the memory of the beloved saint. The festival is a pre-Partition legacy and continued in the Shalimar Gardens even after Independence, until president Ayub Khan banned the location from being used in 1958. The celebrations then relocated to the winding streets and sloping terraces of the shrine.
The shrine is decorated beautifully with paper and plastic flowers and fairy lights. Devotees line up to pay their respects and present chadar
and offerings to the saints.
The shrine is beautifully lit up over the course of three days. The path leading up to the shrine is choked with devotees holding up chadars that they have carried for several kilometres on foot. People throw their offerings in the chadars and dance to renditions of Shah Hussain’s timeless kaafis (short poems) and the beat of the dhol. Malangs robed in saffron and red, bellow out deep sorrowful notes with their horns. “Wearing varying shades of yellow and red is a tradition here. We wear it as an expression of love,” says Rashid Munir, a regular visitor to the shrine, who has a dupatta of the same colours wrapped around his neck.
The alao at the center is the main attraction of the festival. Hundreds gather around it, throwing packets of oil and candles into the flames as chants of Naraa-i-Haideri followed by Ya Ali, Ya Ali (RA) resound through the packed arena. The alao is ringed with tiny oil lamps and candles. Every now and then a person approaches the fire, dips a finger in an oil lamp and anoints himself with it. “It’s a sign of respect,” explains a bystander. “This oil is holy. The lamps represent the light that kills the darkness within.”
There is a throng of wide-eyed children, young men in jeans and older male devotees as far as the eye can see. Few women make an appearance until the third day which is reserved especially for them.
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..................................
The devotees make their mannats (wishes) by offering candles and oil to feed the fire that gives Mela Chiraghan its name.
The heart of Shalimar town, Lahore, beats in sync with thedhol, its arteries clogged with thousands of people, shoving each other in a hurry to reach the alao (huge fire) at the center. The flames light up the shrine of the Sufi saint and poet, Shah Hussain, on Mela Chiraghan or the festival of lights, the three-day urs marking his 426th death anniversary.
Thousands of devotees from all over the country flock to the shrine in the last few days of March, to pay their respects and honour the memory of the beloved saint. The festival is a pre-Partition legacy and continued in the Shalimar Gardens even after Independence, until president Ayub Khan banned the location from being used in 1958. The celebrations then relocated to the winding streets and sloping terraces of the shrine.
The shrine is decorated beautifully with paper and plastic flowers and fairy lights. Devotees line up to pay their respects and present chadar
and offerings to the saints.
The shrine is beautifully lit up over the course of three days. The path leading up to the shrine is choked with devotees holding up chadars that they have carried for several kilometres on foot. People throw their offerings in the chadars and dance to renditions of Shah Hussain’s timeless kaafis (short poems) and the beat of the dhol. Malangs robed in saffron and red, bellow out deep sorrowful notes with their horns. “Wearing varying shades of yellow and red is a tradition here. We wear it as an expression of love,” says Rashid Munir, a regular visitor to the shrine, who has a dupatta of the same colours wrapped around his neck.
The alao at the center is the main attraction of the festival. Hundreds gather around it, throwing packets of oil and candles into the flames as chants of Naraa-i-Haideri followed by Ya Ali, Ya Ali (RA) resound through the packed arena. The alao is ringed with tiny oil lamps and candles. Every now and then a person approaches the fire, dips a finger in an oil lamp and anoints himself with it. “It’s a sign of respect,” explains a bystander. “This oil is holy. The lamps represent the light that kills the darkness within.”
There is a throng of wide-eyed children, young men in jeans and older male devotees as far as the eye can see. Few women make an appearance until the third day which is reserved especially for them.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.