Ishq sufiyana

I came across this dargah in Delhi just behind Humayun's Tomb,it was called "Pattey-wali Dargah",where as the story goes a Sufi saint lived and meditated under a tree.

People who come to pray here eat a leaf and make a wish,if their wish is fulfilled they come back with a silver leaf.

This place has an aura around itself and offers a great deal of peace and I used to love visiting this place,it was not as crowded as the Nizamuddin.Through the months I went there I befriended the old caretaker whom I just called Baba.He had become a friend without ever revealing his name or asking mine.Effortlessly,in a quiet corner of the city,we became friends.He used to tell me Sufi stories,those he must have heard growing up.One that endures in my heart is a love story.It begins like any other:there was a man,woman,and then there was Love.In this case the man was poor,the woman privileged,the love doomed.He was a dhobi,and she a beautiful princess who lived on a high hill.

A strange love story,with unspoken Sufi tones.The young man was the son of Dhoban,a washerwoman,and he was madly in love with her,without even seeing her.His mother would go to the palace and bring down the clothes of the princess down the hill to wash by the lake.He would wash them marvelling at their beauty,imagining how the one who wore them must be.Tenderly he would wash and dry them.fold them caressingly,sprinkling Jasmines on their folds.His mother would then carry the clothes and receive praise for the job well done.Each passing week the clothes would turn newer and newer with the love of the young man.The dhoban got worried.What if the King discovered her Son's love for the princess?His head would be chopped off.'Before that happens I will end my life,'the young man said.And he did.A distraught mother washed the princess clothes and returned weeks later to the princess."Who has washed these clothes? they were not what they used to be" asked the princess."I did myself", said the Dhoban."Then who was washing them before"asked the princess.She felt the difference.These clothes had just been cleaned.No eyes of love had gazed at them.No hands had touched them with tenderness.The Dhoban finally revealed her son's secret love."Take me to his grave" the princess commanded.Together they went in the dark of the winter night down the hill and stopped in an abandoned yard where the lover lay under a mound of fresh earth."What kind of a lover are you to leave this world without even setting eyes on the object of your love?''the princess said.The earth split open,the princess stepped in,the earth closed over her.'In Love there is no death nor borders",said Baba.He didn't explain me much further nor I asked him any questions.