Hijron ka Khanqah: A Study in “Medieval Inclusivity”

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Even though pop culture words like “inclusivity” did not hold any ground with medieval sensibilities, the socio-cultural landscape of the times surely was constructed around broader lines than in the reality of the 21st century. In stark contrast to living memory, hijras/kinnars or eunuchs played a major political and spiritual role in the medieval Indian setting. They did not merely sing and dance for alms in the city bazaar, only to be ignored and slandered, and neither did they come to expect generous gifts during auspicious occasions like marriages and childbirth. Instead, they served as right-hand men to powerful Sultans, led armies against the fierce onslaught of Mongols, played kingmakers and were even duly assassinated when they started to get larger than life – as seen in the highlights of Malik Kafur’s illustrious career under Sultan Alauddin Khilji.

Under the Mughals, Gulbadan Begum’s own account in Humayunama and the Akbarnama mention important court eunuchs like Ambar, Niamat and Itimad Khan who were crucial officers of the state. They were entrusted with the one of the most coveted offices in the realm, that of closely guarding the sanctity of the harem. The prominence of the eunuchs waned slightly under Jahangir as he sought to exercise a check on their excessive abuse of power. However, their place in the royal court soon picked up under subsequent reigns, producing individuals like Khwaja Talib and Khawas Khan who served in appreciable capacities under Aurangzeb and Bahadur Shah respectively. Eunuchs were not only extremely noteworthy elements within the royal courts but were also exceptionally wealthy among the nobility as a consequence of their advantageous placement.

Given their highly acclaimed place within the political structures of the most powerful Indian empires, a shrine venerating the eunuchs of a time long gone seems quite commonplace. We find just that in a hidden gem of the past, that is the Hijron ka Khanqah. This forgotten Lodhi era Sufi memorial is concealed in the narrow and congested bylanes of Chatta Wali Gali in Mehrauli, New Delhi. Although it is just an auto ride away from the nearby Chattarpur Metro Station, neither auto drivers nor residents of the area seem to know the place by its name or its interesting historical significance.

A khanqah can refer to the headquarters of a Sufi silsila where spiritual pupils and initiates could gather for obtaining valuable Sufi teachings from their pir or spiritual master. The term Hijron ka Khanqah could thus mean “the eunuchs’ sprititual retreat”. Cramped between shops built firmly on both sides, lies the narrow, green gate into the shrine. The gate then leads into a fairly small, yet serene, courtyard that is dotted with 49 simple, white graves. These graves seem to be built around a more ornate counterpart, with its boundaries distinguished by a checkered structure decorated with black and white tiles. This particular mausoleum is attributed to the eunuch called Miyan Saheb who was probably a close pupil of the Sufi saint Qutbuddin Bakhtiyar Kaki. The immense popularity of Kaki as a Sufi sheikh and his intimate links with the Lodhi monarchs, could have been motivation towards the erection of this complex for the eunuchs who were most likely some of the foremost followers of the saint. The unembellished graves that surrounds the decorated one of Miyan Saheb could be speculated to have belonged to his trusted servants.

Ever since the 20th century, the well maintained khanqah has been under the possession of the hijras of Turkman Gate in Shahjahanabad or Old Delhi. The custodians often visit the shrine in groups on festival days to celebrate, pray and hand out food to the poor, but on usual days the place ears a deserted and quiet look. The khanqah bears some sacred importance to the community of hijras as they believe that their bygone ancestors buried there had unique powers or baraka, as a result of their association with prominent Sufi sects of their time. Thus, these largely condemned communities today, invoke the spirituality of their eminent predecessors who lived lives of enrichment that stand in complete disparity with the situation presently. The shrine premises also holds a mosque, and its western walls consists of niches or mihrabs that point towards the Mecca. To get a better view of the area as a whole and experience the calming feel of the cool breeze hitting your face amongst the varied discord of noises on the busy street outside, climbing up the stairs to the roof is highly recommended.

The advent of British colonialism in India ultimately sounded the death knell of traditionally vivid heterodoxy that characterized the medieval and early modern Indian society. “British civility” sought to wipe out every trace of the uncouth “native barbarism”, labelling the erstwhile respected eunuch community as a gross “opprobrium upon colonial rule”. Countries like Thailand have emerged from the colonial yoke to respect the integrity of their transgender population, allowing them to occupy comfortable and visible mainstream identities. However, the colonial experience is proving to be a long-lasting establishment in India where transgender individuals are still pushed into the peripheries of society with hardly any means of redressal.

 

References

• Ruby Lal. “Harem and Eunuchs: Liminality and Networks of Mughal Authority”. In Celibate and Childless Men in Power: Ruling Eunuchs and Bishops in the Pre-Modern World, edited by Almut Höfert, Matthew Mesley, Serena Tolino. Taylor & Francis, 2017.

• Shadab Bano, “Eunuchs in Mughal Households and Court”, Proceedings of Indian History Congress, Kolkata, 2009, pp.417-27.

• “Hijron Ka Khanqah”, Atlas Obscura (https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/hijron-ka-khanqah)

• Jessica Hinchy. “Governing Gender and Sexuality in Colonial India: The Hijra, c. 1850-1900”.  Cambridge University Press, 2019.  


The views, information, or opinions expressed above are solely those of the author(s) involved and do not necessarily represent those held by India Lost & Found and its creative community.


Hi, I’m Anisha Debnath 

Hii As a student of gender history, I believe that spatial connotations of history tell us more about the obscured details of past that we often overlook in our mainstream narratives. At ILF I work to realise this perfect marriage of history and space as I guide researchers in expressing the most impressive sentiments of this union through my role as a Research Authenticator. I feel my love for history and our shared past is probably the most prominent indicator of my personality and I cherish the opportunity to disseminate this love to people who have no connection to the discipline whatsoever.

 

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