I spent most of the morning tramping around the ruins of Varakhsha, the ancient city on the western edge of the Bukhara Oasis which once served as the seat of the kings of the region. Leaden skies loomed overhead and gusting winds swept snow flurries through the ruined walls and battlements. In the first millennium the city was well within the boundaries of the Bukhara Oasis; now it is on the very edge, with desert stretching off the west. Ruins of
Varakhsha (click on photos for enlargements)
Shortly after noon we left for the mausoleum of Muhammad Baba as-Samasi. My driver had been to the mausoleum before, but he had gone there directly from Bukhara. He was not quite sure how to get there from the ruins of Varakhsha. We drove north a few miles and found ourselves in the desert. At a crossroads we stopped to ask directions from a man passing by on a tractor.
Desert at the first crossroads
The wind had picked up, blowing fresh snow flurries almost vertically across the sand. Following the tractor driver’s directions we soon found ourselves amidst the barren and fallow fields on the cultivated edge of the oasis. We came to crossroads with no idea which way to go. We drove on a couple of miles before encountering a car coming the other way. The driver informed us we were going the wrong way. We had to go back to the crossroads and turn right. We followed the road to the right a couple of miles and came to another crossroad. The last man we talked to had not mentioned this crossroad. We turned right and drove four or five miles until we came to small house set back off the road. We stopped and the driver went to the door to ask for directions. We had taken a wrong turn at the last crossroads. We returned and turned right again. We must have gone through eight or nine crossroads before we finally found ourselves in the parking lot of Muhammad Baba as-Samasi mausoleum. It had taken us an hour and a half to get here, although I later discovered the mausoleum is only eight miles from Varakhsha. Western edge of Bukhara Oasis showing Varakhsha and the Mausoleum of Samasi
My driver, who was wearing only a sports coat, and I hurried through what seemed like gale-force winds from the parking lot to the entrance portal. Portal of the Samasi Mausoleum
Shaikh Muhammad Baba as-Samasi, the distinguished student of al-Azizan [Ramitani], was the Scholar of the Saints and the Saint of the Scholars . . . He followed Shaikh Ali Ramitani al-'Azizan and he was constantly engaged in struggling against his self. He was put into seclusion on a daily basis, until he reached such a state of purity that his shaikh was permitted to transmit to his heart from the Unseen Heavenly Knowledge. He became very famous for his miraculous powers and his high state of sainthood. Shaikh 'Ali Ramitani chose him before his death as his successor and ordered all his students to follow him. He used to say, as he passed the village of Qasr al-Arifan, “I am smelling from this place the scent of a Spiritual Knower who is going to appear and after whose name this entire Order will be known.” One day he passed the village and said, “I am smelling the scent so strongly that it is as if the Knower has now been born.”
As we shall soon see, the Knower was Muhammad Bahauddin Shah Naqshbandi, the seventh of the Seven Khwajagan of the Bukhara Oasis.
Walkway through the mausoleum complex
Grounds of the mausoleum complex
As we entered the courtyard which contains the tomb of Samasi I noticed a strange thing. There was not a breath of wind. I mentioned to the caretaker that on the way here the wind seemed to be blowing thirty or forty miles an hour. We had even encountered strong winds out in the parking lot. But here it was perfectly calm. “This is a peculiarity of this place,” said the caretaker. “It does not matter what the weather is outside; the wind never blows here around Baba as-Samani’s tomb.”
Tomb of Samasi
Tomb of Samasi
Tomb of Samasi
Tomb of Samasi
Mosque at the mausoleum complex
Interior of the compound
My driver. He is a life-long resident of Bukhara
As we left to drive back to Bukhara we discovered that out in the parking lot the wind was still howling relentlessly .