With the ongoing austerities of Ramzan being faithfully observed by many Indians, one may sometimes wonder what it is about religiously-driven self-denial that attracts many men and also some women as a way of life. The periodic fasts prescribed for the laity in several religions are one thing. They are meant to be both a physical detox and a time of introspection and mental cleansing, be it the Vasant and Sharad Navratras and Ekadashi, Lent or Ramzan. But what makes some believers choose extreme austerity as a way of life, especially women? Besides Buddhist, Jain and Christian nuns, the lone Islamic example of Rabia al-Basri from eighth century Iraq springs to mind.
Basra may be better known to Indians for clusters of small, fine, Basra seed pearls that were popular as a part of North Indian jewellery until a generation ago. And Rabia al Basri is more legend than history because there are apparently no songs or poems written by her available, only a few sayings attributed to her. She won my interest with this saying, “Since no one really knows anything about God, those who say they do are just troublemakers.” The Sufi writer Farid-ud-din Attar was the first to mention her, four centuries later, based on local folklore. Yet, she is greatly respected in the Islamic world as the first woman Sufi saint and an extremely pious one at that.
Rabia, says folklore, chose to be celibate all her life. She died in her 80s, denying herself any creature comforts throughout her life. So, in passing, it strikes me as ironic that Aurangzeb awarded his first and chief wife, Dilras Banu Begum, the title ‘Rabia al-Durrani’ or ‘Rabia of the Age’ when she died following the delivery of her fifth child. A Safavid Persian princess who became a Mughal emperor’s chief queen, living all her life in luxury, was named after the homeless, frequently fasting, ascetic Rabia al-Basri. Dilras is also documented as being highly autocratic, imperious and quick to anger, and Aurangzeb himself wrote that he took care to never upset her. So, it boggles the mind.
But many things are highly ironic about Aurangzeb, including his homely taste in food, so we had best leave it at that for now. In case the matter teases, his favourite food included some dishes that many of us enjoy eating even today like paneer parathas and qubuli—a khichri of chana dal, rice, onions, dried apricots and dried plums.
That astonishing Mughal echo duly noted, we are told the original Rabia was born in Basra to a poor but free family, meaning not enslaved. Slavery was normal in Arabic society, hence that clarification by Attar. She was the fourth daughter and hence named Rabia, meaning ‘the fourth’ in Arabic. As to which, Rabi-al Thani is the fourth month in the Islamic calendar and means ‘second spring’. Rabiah or Four Friends is a term for the first four Caliphs of Sunni Islam. This Rabia is also called Rabia al-Adawiyya after her father’s Arabic clan or tribe name.
According to folklore, Rabia’s first calamity was her father died young. Soon after that, there was a famine in Basra and her family was forced to leave town in search of food. It is said she was separated from her family during that migration. She was part of a caravan attacked by robbers. Young Rabia was captured by the robbers and sold into slavery back in Basra. Her master extracted long hours of hard work from her. But at night, when she was supposed to be sleeping, the young orphan girl turned to her only source of consolation, God. She would meditate on God, pray and praise God. Additionally, she often fasted during the day.
There is a story that while in the market on an errand for her master, she was chased by a beggar and ran away to save herself. But in doing so, she fell and broke her arm. She then reportedly prayed to God, “I am a poor orphan and a slave. Now, my arm, too, is broken. But I do not mind these things if You are pleased with me,” and felt a voice replying, “Never mind all these sufferings. On the Day of Judgment, you will be accorded a status that shall be the envy of even the angels.”
The story further goes that one night, the master of the house woke up and saw Rabia at her devotions. No lamp was lit but there was a divine light around her as she prayed on her knees, arms uplifted and eyes closed. The master was deeply upset that he had unknowingly kept such a pious person as a slave. Reproaching himself, he set her free.
Rabia went away into the desert to pray and turned totally into an ascetic. Unlike many Sufi saints, she did not learn from a master but turned directly to God. How did she survive, what did she eat, did she have shelter? It is said her only possessions were a broken jug, a rush mat and a brick, which she used as a pillow. She spent every night in prayer and contemplation, reproaching herself if she slept since it took her away from thinking about God. As her fame grew, she attracted disciples and had discussions with Sufi mystics of the age.
Rabia was reportedly the first Muslim to introduce the idea that God should be loved for God’s own sake and not out of fear, as earlier Sufis had taught. She is said to have prayed, “O Allah! If I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell, and if I worship You in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise. But if I worship You for Your Own sake, grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty.” This, to my mind, connects with the Indian tradition of praising God’s unparalleled beauty and makes one relate warmly to Rabia.
(Views are personal)
(shebaba09@gmail.com)
Renuka Narayanan