Delhiwale: Saqlain and Chand

Tonight Delhi’s most famous sufi shrine will host poetry-filled musical qawwalis until the morning. It is the 810th Jashn-e-Wiladat, or birthday celebrations, of Hazrat Nizamuddin Aulya, whose grave constitutes the historic dargah’s heart.
Now see the photo of the two qawwal singers snapped in the shrine’s courtyard a week ago. Chand Nizami, right, might be more familiar because of his appearance in a chartbuster film qawwali (you know which!). While the much younger Saqlain is the third son of the greatest qawwal of our times.
The two are rarely sighted together. Maybe because they belong to rival qawwal clans. That said, Saqlain’s Nizami Khusro Bandhus and Chand’s Nizami Bandhus are the dargah’s leading qawwal families. For a long time it was (crudely) whispered that Nizami Khusro Bandhus were suitable for solemn soirées while Nizami Bandhus were best for collecting crowds. The divergence reveals the ongoing evolution of a 750-year-old musical tradition steeped in spirituality and poetry.
A consummate performer, Chand’s voice is electrifying. He quickly catches the moody pulse of the audience and tugs on those sentiments by harping on the affecting verse/words. Saqlain’s voice, as full of boom, seems to come from within the marrow of his soul—especially so when he prolongs an alaap, his breath pauses for an alarmingly lengthy duration.
Saqlain’s great-grandfather’s grandfather was the shahi gawayya (royal singer) in Emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar’s court. His lineage in fact goes back to Mian Samad, the leader of the Qawwal Bachche, a group formed by poet Amir Khusrau that is believed to consist of the world’s first qawwals. A disciple of Hazrat Nizamuddin, Khusro was buried close to sufi saint’s grave. The two are separated by a marble courtyard, the venue where Mian Samad’s descendants have been offering qawwalis through the centuries, right down to Chand and Saqlain.
The legendary figure whose absence continues to be felt is Meraj Ahmed Nizami. Saqlain’s father (died 2015) was among the world’s most renowned classical qawwals. He would effortlessly render Persian verses in the traditional tarz (melodies), conjuring a spirited aura of mystical haal (ecstasy). As long as Meraj was active, each of these two families differed in their dealings with Sufi music. One focused on the purity of its art (that’s Meraj), and the other artfully manipulated it (that’s Chand).
Like every world heritage, the dargah’s qawwali too has lately been altered by mass tourism — the French president attended it this year, sitting cross-legged on the marble courtyard, clapping with the qawwals. (Last year French writer Annie Ernaux attended it – see photo above). Inevitably, over the years, the principal attention of the attendees has somewhat shifted from qawwali’s verses to qawwal singer’s performative postures.
Whatever, as you settle down in the dargah aangan this evening, alongside the qawwals, look out for Chand and nephews, and Saqlain and brothers. From around 10.30pm to 4am.