The Rumi the world never knew
Srinagar, Jul 18: He is the other Rumi.
The 14th and 15th century Kashmir saint Sheikh Nooruddin Noorani (RA), also known as Sheikh-ul-Alam, Alamdar-e-Kashmir, and Nundresh, speaks a spiritual language as poetic as the 13th century Persian poet.
While verses of Rumi (Jalaluddin Muhammad Balkhi) translated by Coleman Barks have won millions of hearts in the West, Noorani’s shruks spoken in Kashmiri homes and shrines have remained untranslated and unsung and not gone beyond Kashmir, let alone the Atlantic.
His shruks are about truth, compassion, simplicity, and spiritual discipline, while his teaching emphasises religious harmony, non-violence, and renouncing the material world.
Seen as a unifier of Kashmiri spiritual thought, Noorani’s verses continue to shape Kashmiri identity, ethics, and religious practices.
Not surprisingly, his shruks find use in everyday Kashmiri life, and his shrine at Charar-e-Sharief in central Kashmir’s Budgam district continues to be one of the most popular religious destinations in the Valley.
Together with his spiritual forebear Lal Ded, Noorani constitutes the nucleus of Kashmiri indigenous spiritual-poetic heritage.
As the world spirals into disconnection, it is Noorani’s Kashmir-bound wisdom, not just mystical but moral, local yet universal, that can offer a compass.
Those who have read his poetry feel he is as good as Rumi, still not known to the world, because his poems have not been translated into international languages.
Chairman of the Sheikh-ul-Alam Centre at the University of Kashmir (KU), Adil Amin Kak, said, “We haven’t paid much attention to translating works of Sheikh-ul-Alam.”
He said Kashmir’s historical fascination with the Urdu language led to Noorani’s poetry being translated only into Urdu, a language with limited global reach compared to English or other major international languages.
Kak, a linguist, said that, in contrast, Rumi’s works had been translated into all prominent global languages, helping his message transcend borders.
He said efforts were now underway to bridge this gap.
Kak said that KU had translated 100 shruks of Noorani, not only in English but also in German, French, and Russian languages.
However, compared to poets like Dante Alighieri, von Goethe, Pablo Neruda, Mahmoud Darwish, Alexander Pushkin, Li Bai, and Matsuo Basho – all known globally through translation – Noorani’s poetry remains largely unheard beyond the Pir Panjal.
But is translation alone enough to bridge this divide?
Former finance minister Haseeb Ahmad Drabu, who has a keen interest in Kashmiri literature, said that the comparison between Noorani and Rumi has to be seen in a balanced manner.
“There’s a lot of difference between Sheikh-ul-Alam and Rumi. They weren’t contemporaries. How many years ago was it that Rumi and Sheikh-ul-Alam lived? It takes years for the people to absorb,” he said.
Drabu also identified structural differences that impacted their legacies.
“Unlike Rumi, whose legacy was shaped by living in a colonial era and later embraced by Orientalist translators, Noorani arose in a linguistic and political crucible far from empires, rooted in Kashmir,” he said. “The population base of Rumi was far, far higher, whereas the population base of Sheikh-ul-Alam was a few million.”
Drabu also highlighted a philosophical disparity.
“Rumi was not moralistic while Sheikh-ul-Alam was extremely moralistic,” he said. “Sheikh-ul-Alam was concerned with the here and now, and with society and social issues. He grappled with identity and had to stay within the local idiom, which isn’t that glamorous. Contrarily, Rumi was far more universal and addressed universalism,” he said.
According to Drabu, Noorani stands unparalleled in Kashmir’s intellectual history.
“I consider Sheikh-ul-Alam the first and perhaps the last public intellectual Kashmir produced. He was extremely political. If you have to return to your roots, there’s no one better to learn from than Sheikh-ul-Alam. His messages have a deep political meaning, like ethnicity and identity. Rumi doesn’t hold such a position,” he said.
Drabu said that Rumi was also a reflection of Shams Tabrez, while Sheikh-ul-Alam had no such privilege, having been born to a poor villager’s family in south Kashmir’s Kulgam district.
While Tabrez was instrumental in making Rumi the mystic the world knows today, it was Coleman Barks’ poetic translations that turned Rumi into an international phenomenon.
It raises the hypothetical: Were Noorani to have a translator as lyrically unencumbered as Barks, wouldn’t his verses resonate beyond Kashmir?
A translation of his couplet, ‘Dapan haras manz chhu Khuday, magar tuchhutur manz nazi’ (They say God abides in every heart; yet you seek Him in stone and shrine) could have echoed across continents just like Rumi’s, ‘Birun az mafahim-e kufr-o-din, yek bāgh ast, Ānjā torā khwāham dīd, Vaghti ke rūh dar ān chaman biyāsāyad, Jahān por ast az goft-o-gū va ān digar namī-gonjad; Andīshe, zabān, hattā vāzhe-ye ‘yeki bā digari’, Dar ānjā digar ma’nā nadārad, Dar anjadigarma’ nayinadarad’ (Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field, I’ll meet you there; When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about, Ideas, language – even the phrase ‘each other’ – doesn’t make any sense).
Last year in October, as Kashmir marked the 605th Urs of Noorani, Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, during his Friday congregational address from the pulpit of Srinagar’s grand Jamia Masjid, underscored Noorani’s enduring relevance, describing him as “the most revered saint of Kashmir” and “an epitome of knowledge.”
Although his influence on Kashmiri identity, language, and politics remains undeniable, his shruks have rarely ventured beyond the Valley.
Assistant Professor of English at Ashoka University, Abir Bazaz, in his book ‘Nund Rishi: Poetry and Politics in Medieval Kashmir’, reflects on Noorani’s era, where poetry and politics were deeply intertwined.
Bazaz says that when Persian Sufis in Kashmir spoke a metaphysical vision out of reach of the locals, Noorani filled the gap, rendering the political universalism of Islam into Kashmiri idiom through his shruks.
But history is never generous to its own people.
When Noorani’s shrine at Charar-e-Sharif went up in flames on May 11, 1995, during a gunfight between the Army and the militants, not just timber burned.
What went up in smoke also were the memories of the centuries-old shrine.
Yet from the ashes, Kashmiris rose with devotion, rebuilding what fire could not destroy: reverence.
Noted Kashmiri poet and satirist Zareef Ahmad Zareef said many sociolinguistic factors were responsible for the lack of awareness about Noorani’s poetry outside of Kashmir.
He said Sanskrit and Persian had a major impact on the region during Noorani’s time, and later during the Dogra era beginning in 1879, Urdu received official patronage.
“He spoke of forests when we still had them,” said Zareef, who sees Noorani not just as a saint, but as a pre-modern environmentalist. “His poetry was a prophecy.”
He called upon Kashmiri scholars to translate Noorani’s works and promote research in colleges and universities on the revered saint.
While Rumi’s popularity has surged within contemporary pop culture, with his verses being incorporated into music by popular rock bands like Coldplay, Noorani’s poetry has remained underutilised in art and music.
Music professor and Principal Government Degree College, Anantnag, Prof Muzaffar Ahmad Bhat, said, “Though the couplets of Noorani are brief, radiant, and sharp, few musicians have immortalised them through their songs.”
What Noorani needs isn’t just a translator.
He needs a soul-listener, a Coleman Barks of the mountains, someone who can carry his Kashmiri echoes into the global consciousness.
In a fractured age, Noorani is not just a mystic of Kashmir; he is a poet for the planet.
But someone must listen, must translate, and must carry his voice to the world outside Kashmir.
