Graveyards are one of the most peaceful spaces – disconnected from the ruckus of the world. Having played their innings, their occupants watch over those left behind, either holding the fort or destroying it. At first, those who had loved them visit the graves quite frequently, but over time, these visits become sparse. The deceased become a lost page in personal histories. However, some people grow larger than life after they are gone.

For years, I have been visiting Lahore’s oldest graveyard, Miani Sahib, near Chauburji to pay respects to my grandparents but never ventured beyond their graves. Usually, graveyards are not places one considers exploring, but thanks to Lahore ka Ravi – a platform that shares stories about the city’s hidden gems and reconnects us with our lost identity – I was intrigued. When I saw their call for a ‘tour’ of Miani Sahib, I was amused. That amusement soon turned to excitement when I discovered that Saadat Hassan Manto also lies there.

The graveyard is named after Sheikh Muhammad Tahir Bandagi, a Sufi adept from Emperor Jahangir’s era. Interestingly, Miani is derived from Miana, a title commonly given to teachers in rural Punjab. This cemetery is particularly known for its historical association with the Sikh and Muslim communities and the British era. It is the final resting place of numerous notable political figures, poets, religious leaders and intellectuals.

The tour began with a visit to Wasif Ali Wasif’s shrine. Wasif was a poet, writer and teacher best known for his facility in Shakespearean literature. He was also known for his work on Sufism. After his passing, his followers built a shrine in his memory, a tradition in our region where such sites become places of homage for generations. The Miani Sahib graveyard has many shrines. Some of those are centuries old and others relatively new.

The graveyard is named after Sheikh Muhammad Tahir Bandagi, a Sufi adept from Emperor Jahangir’s era. Interestingly, Miani is derived from Miana, a title commonly given to teachers in rural Punjab. 

As the tour proceeded, we next visited Major Shabbir Sharif’s grave, a solemn reminder of his sacrifice for the country. A bit further down, we came across a Sikh-era building adorned with intricate artwork. This was Gul Bano’s tomb, also known as Gul Bahar Begum – she was the Muslim wife of Ranjit Singh, the Sikh ruler. The site is looked after by a family descended from her adopted son.

Finding a tomb from the Sikh era so close to from my grandparents’ graves was fascinating. I doubt that my parents were aware of it either. I also realised how deeply history, culture and traditions are interwoven in this city of the dead. For instance, the origins of the Lohri celebration are rooted in this very graveyard, where Rai Abdullah Khan Bhatti, also known as Dulla Bhatti, from Emperor Akbar’s era, is also buried. He is remembered for rescuing two Brahmin girls from the clutches of lecherous men – a story enshrined in folk poetry that is sung during the winter festival of Lohri.

And then, we finally reached Saadat Hassan Manto’s grave – the most anticipated stop of the tour. Even though I have never read most of his writings, I stood there reflecting on how his words still resonate with us today.

The tour concluded with a final stop at Ghazi Ilm Din’s grave. The visit gave me a new perspective on graveyards – not just places where loved ones are buried but also repositories of history. Cemeteries hold a world of their own, like a city within a city, embracing those who were once an integral part of the society and played a role in shaping it.

The writer is a freelance journalist