Martyr’s chamber.

[Text and photo by Mayank Austen Soofi]

Consider the sixth Mughal emperor. He ill-treated his elderly father, executed his older brother, and was greatly intolerant to his people, especially those not sharing his Islamic orthodoxy.

While the infamous Aurangzeb lies buried far from Delhi, a few of the material remains of his time subsist in our city. Such as the Sheesh Mahal monument in Shalimar Bagh where he was crowned as emperor some 350 years ago, and the icy white Moti Masjid he later built within the Red Fort.

That said, one Delhi monument that singularly conveys a truer appraisal of his era barely hints of being an important monument. It is very small, not imposing at all, and isn’t frequented by tourists. It is the grave of a man martyred by Aurangzeb. Indeed, Sarmad is today known as Shahid, the martyr. His grave in Old Delhi lies between the Jama Masjid and Meena Bazar. The legend describes Sarmad as an Armenian Jew from Iran who converted to Islam, emigrated to Sindh, where he fell in love with a young Hindu man. Eventually he grew oblivious to society’s conventions, jettisoned clothes, became a fakir, and settled in Delhi.

It is this unclothed Sarmad that appears on the cover of a book copies of which are hawked at the trinket stall right outside his memorial. It shows a skinny man sitting in a yogic posture against the backdrop of Jama Masjid. Wearing a beatific smile, one of his arms is raised in defiance towards the figure of Aurangzeb, who is angrily scowling down at Sarmad. Per the historians, Aurangzeb despised Sarmad because of his unworldly nudity, his stubbornness in reciting only the first half of Kalimah — the Muslim declaration of faith — and his proximity to Dara Shikoh, the original heir-apparent. Aurangzeb finally had Sarmad executed.

The legends on Sarmad’s final moments are gruesome and sublime. It is said that the ascetic continued to fearlessly recite poetic verses as the executioner’s sword was slicing off his head. The execution was being staged outside the Jama Masjid, in full view of a massive crowd of onlookers. Immediately after the beheading, the legend has it, Sarmad picked up his bleeding head, serenely walked up the mosque’s red sandstone stairs and ascended to heaven.

Over the centuries, the spot under the neem tree where Sarmad’s earthly remains were interred transformed into a peaceful Sufi dargah (it houses the grave of one more mystic, Hazrat Hare Bhare Shah). At one point in time, Sarmad’s portion of the shrine used to be completely red; the blood-red would evoke his persecution. A series of renovations have diluted the red, making the shrine’s visual aura less overwhelming. But years ago, The Delhi Walla visited the dargah in its former avatar. The sweeping red interiors strove to invoke the very spirit of Hazrat Sarmad Shahid’s martyrdom. It was surreal—see photo.