Happy New Year!
In various Indian states such as Andhra Pradesh, Telangana, Karnataka, Maharashtra, and Goa, Ugadi and Gudi Padwa mark the beginning of the New Year. These festivals symbolize the arrival the harvest season.
Among the Sindhi community, this day is celebrated as Cheti Chand. Beyond the seasonal significance, it also commemorates the birth of Uderolal.
The story of Uderolal, also known as Zinda Pir or Khwaja Khizr, is ancient and captivating. It transcends religious boundaries, weaving together elements of faith and history.
Thousands of years ago, when gods walked among mortals, Vedic sages unraveled the secrets of immortality. They discovered a mystical elixir in the juice of soma plants (also known as somras, or haoma in Avestan), which grew along the banks of the mighty Indus River. This magical substance held the promise of eternal life.
Alexander the Great, is it said, in his quest for world dominion, learned of this elixir. He sought its location, hoping to secure everlasting rule. During his journey, he befriended a guide who led him toward the secret source. Eventually, they parted ways to expedite their search.
One fateful day, as Alexander’s companion leaned over a spring, a dried fish slipped from his hand and plunged into the water. To their astonishment, the lifeless fish revived and swam away. Eureka! The fountain of life—Aab-i-Hayat—had been found. Alexander’s friend tasted its waters and instructed his soldiers to inform the great conqueror.
However, when Alexander returned to the spring, it had vanished, along with his enigmatic guide. The guide knew better than to give immortality to an ambitious young king.
Alexander’s friend became a legend, echoing through time and across cultures. His story resonates in the Gilgamesh epic, the Alexander Romances, the Jewish legend of Elijah and Rabbi Joshua ben Levi, and even the Qur’an. Known by various names, he embodies immortality. To Muslims, he is al-Khadir or Khwaja Khizr; to Hindus, he is Uderolal or Jind Pir; and in the Gilgamesh epic, he appears Utnapishtim, the Noah or Manu or Iraq.
His abode? A verdant island in the Indus River, where he roams the banks, aiding those in distress. With a flowing white beard and astride a palla fish, he remains an immortal prophet—a bridge between worlds.
~[ Palla fish is very tasty. It is known as Ilish in Bengal and a favourite delicacy of us bongs. We love it, especially the one cooked in mustard gravy.]~
There are many miraculous legends about the pir.
In the 10th century AD, King Mirkshah arrived to conquer Punjab and issued an ultimatum to the Sindhi people: convert to Islam or face death. The Sindhis had 40 days to make their decision. Fearing the loss of their religion, they turned to the deity Varuna in prayer.
Varuna took earthly form, reincarnating as Uderolal, born to mortal Mata Devki. When Mirkshah returned, Uderolal aged suddenly, his white beard flowing, and he emerged from the Indus River atop a palla fish—the very same figure Alexander the Great had encountered. The king ordered his soldiers to arrest Uderolal, but then a miraculous event unfolded: waters surged from nowhere, engulfing the king and his men. Uderolal spoke to the king, emphasizing that all gods were one, urging him not to wage war based on religion. Mirkshah realized his folly and withdrew.
In honor of this extraordinary being, a temple was to be erected. Hindus sought a Samadhi, while Muslims desired a qaba. As tensions escalated, a celestial voice intervened:
“Create a shrine acceptable to both Hindus and Muslims. One face resembling a temple, the other akin to a dargah: I belong to all of you.”
Years later, a Delhi merchant named Shah Hussain crossed the Indus River with his daughter, Badu-i-Jamal, en route to Mecca. The Hindu King Daluraj fell enamored with Badu-i-Jamal’s beauty and sought her hand in marriage. When opposed, the king wanted to take her forcefully. Hussain preyed to Khwaja Khizr and he appeared and rescued them by changing the direction of the stream to Rohri.
In the Hindu cult, devotees of Udero Lal or Zinda Pir express their reverence by celebrating Cheti Chand and by feeding Brahmins at a well. Similarly, both Hindu and Muslim practices involve setting afloat a small boat adorned with a lighted lamp in ponds or rivers. Iconographically, Khwaja Khizr appears as an aged man, draped entirely in green, moving gracefully through the waters, his trusty fish serving as his vessel.
Both Hindus and Muslims used to pray to the same idea peacefully for years. However, this era of harmony did not endure. The 19th century witnessed protests against this shared worship. It was precisely the opportunity the British had been seeking. The unity between Hindus and Muslims formed the backbone of India—a formidable force. To weaken it meant fracturing the very essence of the nation. Thus, a separate Hindu temple was established, unwittingly sowing the first seeds of partition.
The question lingers: Why did the colonial court permit this division? The answer, perhaps, lies in the realm of self-interest and strategy.
Then came the 1956 flood, a natural force that obliterated both the temple and the mosque. What remained was a smooth stone—an unmarked testament to the saint’s abode, devoid of religious bias. Some might call it divine justice, a reminder that unity and shared reverence transcend earthly boundaries.
