ooking at Mela Chiraghan today, it is difficult to imagine that this was once the grandest mela in the Punjab. Usually held in the last week of March, this year it was delayed by a few weeks due to Ramazan, taking place in the narrow lanes surrounding the mazar (shrine) of Shah Hussain.

Shah Hussain lived during the time of Emperor Akbar. Numerous anecdotes associate him with revolts and uprisings in the Punjab – unrest that many believe compelled Akbar to shift his capital here in an effort to stabilise the region that extended all the way to what is now Afghanistan.

An iconoclast and non-conformist, Shah Hussain led a life of defiance and renunciation. Later generations, uncomfortable with his radicalism, sought to mask his choices with layers of explanations and justifications to present a more “acceptable” image. But the truth remains: these malamati Sufis built their entire way of life on challenging social norms.

Shah Hussain was also a poet, and if the Punjabi tradition of poetry begins with Baba Farid of Ajodhan (now Pakpattan), then Shah Hussain, following Guru Nanak, was the third great poet in this lineage. He established a poetic idiom that later poets built upon, and his verses became a living tradition sung by bards and minstrels across the villages of the Punjab. His poetry, originally part of an oral tradition, was formally documented by the Sikhs in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries as part of their broader effort to canonise their language, literature and culture amidst growing communal divisions in the lead-up to nationalist movements. Interestingly, his poetry was also preserved in Sindh, where it found a second life as a devotional song.

Shah Hussain was also part of the Bhakti movement, which swept across northern India in response to the evolving cultural synthesis brought on by prolonged Muslim rule. Like many others of his time, he was a proponent of wahdat-ul-wujood – the unity of being – and embraced a vision of divine existence rooted in the oneness of all creation.

These Sufis based their entire lifestyle on the dictum ofdefiance and renunciation.

Though originally buried on the bank of the River Ravi, legend has it that a great flood swept his grave away to Baghbanpura, where it remains today – a site of pilgrimage for many.

Mela Chiraghan began to flourish during the reign of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, who celebrated it with the lighting of oil lamps and festive splendour. The event grew rapidly, especially around the Shalimar Gardens, until it was decided in the 1960s that the mela should be held outside the gardens. At that time, the surrounding areas were still undeveloped. This allowed thousands of vendors to set up bazaars, theatre troupes to stage performances and musicians to gather in makeshift arenas. People from across the Punjab took time off in Chet (the first month of spring in the Punjabi calendar) to visit the mela for entertainment and spiritual renewal.

Lahore once hosted three major spring festivals: Basant, Mela Chiraghan and Baisakhi. Basant has been banned by government edict; Baisakhi, closely associated with the Sikh community, is now seen exclusively as their festival; and Mela Chiraghan is slowly dying due to lack of space, diminishing public interest and cultural neglect.

The state, increasingly invested in a sanitised version of culture, coupled with the rise of digital entertainment, has significantly dampened the enthusiasm for physical participation in such festivals. Shah Hussain’s poetry was once widely sung. However, it has been a long time since a new voice has emerged to build upon the sonic heritage of this land.

As the lamps of Mela Chiraghan flicker, they signal not just the fading memory of a once-glorious festival, but also the slow erasure of a pluralistic cultural past that once embraced defiance, love and transcendence.

The writer is a Lahore-based Culture critic These Sufis based their entire lifestyle on the dictum of defiance and renunciation.