What a book this is—the prose is like poetry; the poetry reads like the song; and the story flows like the Ravi River that lies between Ali Hussain and his beloved Madho, a Brahmin boy, dividing them, till they decide to become one.
Based on the life of the 16th-century mystic, Lal Hussain, Sarbpreet Singh’s The Sufi’s Nightingale is rooted in truth and laced with legends. Two voices take the seer’s tale forward; one, his own, and the other of Maqbool, his disciple.
As the pages turn, multiple stories unfold. We learn that Hussain comes from a poor weaver’s family, has immense intellect and is being trained to take over from the mulla himself. But at some point, he becomes a seeker, looking beyond bookish learning, trying to find Allah through whirling with the dervishes and by reciting his name repeatedly.
Finally, he rejects the orthodox route, shaving off his beard, wearing red robes and taking up his station through the day in a liquor den. His motive is to sublimate the ego, which he can see personified as a large, drooling dog-like beast sitting by his side, with bared fangs, by bringing humiliation and derision on himself.
Maqbool, the sweet-voiced nightingale from the title, has his own equally beguiling tale. It explains why he is so adept at singing, be it the melodious, pitch-perfect classical ragas that bring listeners to tears or evoke joy, or the kafis—translations of his master’s songs, still sung in the Punjabs on either side of the India-Pakistan border. But, it is the fascinating story of Madho, who falls in love with a courtesan, and whose beauty rouses a passionate love in Hussain, which serves as the central thread that the author tugs at to build up to a riveting climax.
The love between Hussain and Madho echoes that of Rumi and Shams, of Radha and Krishna, to paint a resplendent union of kindred souls. The pain of separation, which results in the composition of the kafi, and the pain of jealousy that eats away at Maqbool add a continuous strain of poignancy to the book, making it read like a plaintive ballad of love, loss, separation and ecstasy.
Indications come through of the commonality between religions—whether it is finding the divine through repetitions of ‘his’ name or finding bliss in music. There is also an emphasis on the need to control the three heart centres through meditation. This is why, to truly appreciate this work of literature, one must look beyond the sheer poignance of the love story. The biggest takeaway from Hussain’s life is that regardless of the route taken—language, region or even religion—the divine is an inviolate light that shines equally overall.