It was Hazrat Nizamuddin Aulia's URS (Death Anniversary) of the year 1986, a few months after my 5th birthday. Langar was being distributed in the courtyard of the house I grew up in. Among all the Zayereen (visitors) I saw his shining face, smiling at me. I was helping my mother distribute and eat at the same time, and I remember how Abbu (My Father) bent down so I could make him eat the tosha (sweet rice). Childishly, I asked him who gave me my name. He cupped my face in his hands and said, "You are my fourth child, my precious Rabia. I have named you for a great soul, about whom you must read and learn when you are older." Those words, though potent, meant little to me as a little girl, but kept coming back to me every now and again over the course of my life. As the years went by, I learnt, more by assimilation than by rote, about the pious bloodline I had the privilege to be born into, that of Hazrat Nizamuddin Aulia, a great Sufi saint. The hallowed ground where I lived, took my first steps, played, laughed, and cried, was infused with a mysticism of which my father was the custodian, being the direct descendant of this great soul and a priest in his holy shrine.
When I was older, I discovered that Abbu had named me for Rabia al-Basri, the first female saint of Sufism. I was immediately struck by her spiritual achievement and felt as though my father had elevated me on many levels by merely giving me her name. I was intrigued by her independence, her ishq-e-Haqiqi (authenticity), her teaching of Divine love. I was taken captive by the idea that true love is for the Almighty and is not dependent on anything or anyone on this earthly plane. A deeper and more nuanced understanding of Sufism, which was in my blood and in my heart and in the very air I breathed, which was the very stuff I was made of, began to make more and more sense to me.
Leading the life of a normal young woman in Delhi, I completed my education and settled into my career and then matrimony, with Rabia taking a back seat in the deep recesses of my mind, but I never forgot her influence in my life. Hundreds of instances during interactions with family and my many travels reminded me of my deep, soul-level connection with this larger-than-life figure, which only strengthened the hold she had on my heart. On one such trip, the idea of Sufi Tales took seed in my mind, which I will relate in more detail in another blog. I knew at that moment that this connection must be celebrated. This is inevitable.
On my 40th birthday, therefore, I decided to gift myself my passion project – Sufi Tales, An Inward Journey, inspired by all the saints that have doused my soul in the myriad colours of Sufism and made my feet dance to the unheard sounds of the mystics, all these years. And it would be incomplete without my ardent tribute to Rabia al-Basri.
Women the world over have been influenced by Rabia al-Basri's greatness for centuries. She embodies the qualities of freedom, feminism, and equality. She relied on no man to validate her existence at a time when women had no autonomy at all. Even though she received many offers of marriage, she remained celibate and died an ascetic, with only her disciples to care for her.
Many of the contributors to Sufi Tales are women who tread the path she enlightened, hoping to attain a fraction of her unity with the Divine and self-reliance. This impact is reflected in their work, which is showcased in our unexampled products.