Come December and I go back to Turkey, albeit, in my thoughts. The memories of visiting Konya come flooding around this time of the year. Thousands of people descend from all over the world on the Turkish city of Konya for a week-long (December 10 to 17) celebration of Rumi and the Whirling Dervishes’ Festival. I too had visited Konya, a city south of Ankara in Turkey’s Central Anatolia region to attend the annual festival which is one of the most important events in the whole of Turkey. Konya is a pilgrimage destination for Sufis and Mevlana Jelaleddin Rumi (1207- 1273) was the 13th-century acclaimed Sufi and a poet who lived and died in Konya. Followers of Rumi are called whirling dervishes. Though I am no follower of Sufism but I am definitely a lover of all things divine.
A few days ago before visiting Konya, while exploring Istanbul, I had come across many hoardings and billboards advertising the “Whirling Dervishes” performance in the Turkish capital. Initially, I thought it must be one of those touristy things to do and didn’t care much, but a fellow tourist suggested (read insisted) that any trip to Turkey is incomplete without visiting Konya. Since Konya was just an-hour flight away, I decided to visit the Anatolian city, also known as Turkey's most culturally conservative city.
I was joined by the hordes (two million-or-so tourists visit annually) as I headed for the Sufi’s tomb inside the Mevlana Museum for a ceremony known as Semâ. The brochure that was handed to me by my guide Nurdogan read that Semâ is part of the inspiration of Mevlana Rumi as well as part of Turkish custom, history, beliefs and culture. Sufism expresses love of God in an ecstatic whirling dance. The atmosphere was ripe with mysticism as the ‘dancers’ known as ‘whirling dervishes’ clad in black coat (which they shed later and underneath wear flowing white skirt) with cylindrical hats (hat representing a tombstone and a wide white skirt symbolizing the death shroud) and bowed heads, gathered in a large circle in the circular hall. The soft music of ‘ney’ (reed flute), strings, and tambourines created a divine atmosphere. I noticed as the dervishes bowed, they looked between the eyebrows of the dervish opposite them which Nurdogan explained as contemplating the divine manifestation within. Gradually they started spinning like tops across the stage while seeming to be in a meditative stance.
I wonder what made these whirling dancers not feel dizzy as they incessantly dance, spinning and twirling in rhythm. Everything is about balance, I guessed. Nurdogan again explained that this is no ordinary dance. Sema meaning ‘to listen to the music’ is a sacred ritual of love. “It represents a mystical journey propelled through the love of perfection and involving a spiritual ascent through the mind. Rumi had emphasized that music uplifts our spirit to realms above, and we hear the tunes of the Gates of Paradise”. Rumi preached love and respect for all, regardless of their religion. He taught inclusivity and tolerance. I understood a deeper meaning that whirling of a dervish is symbolic of the person who grows through love, deserts the ego, finds the truth and arrives at perfection. Their whirling symbolizes the rotation of the universe in the presence of God. Nurdogan elaborated, “In a Sema, in the ecstasy, the Sufi finds God and peace by extending himself from the earth to the cosmos. He is aware of time by concentrating on his movements on all different velocities”.
Near the end, as the last part of the ceremony, the sheikh enters the circling dervishes, where he assumes the place of the sun in the centre of the circling planets. The dervishes returned side by side and knelt down. They put on black cloaks again to represent the material world. At the end of the hour-long performance everyone seemed to be in a deep meditative state. Like in other cultural performances there was no photography, no video, and no applauding, at all. A serene silence prevailed. As the crowd walked out silently, I noticed some had Qurans in their hands and some had Rumi’s poetry. Some were so moved that they wiped their tears. I, too, felt so elevated as if my soul has been freed from the worldly affairs and had come closer to the divine.
The feeling to have attended a ceremony which is a part of the Masterpieces of the Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO was quite satisfying. The 800-year-old tradition and ritual is now taught by many Turkish universities and cultural organizations as a way of preserving the history and transferring it on to the next generation. I have a deep reverence for such mesmerizing and meaningful traditions that stay intact and remembered, despite the passing of several hundred years. I shall be coming to Konya next year, albeit, not in my thoughts, but in person.
