A few days ago, I was seized by the idea of making a pilgrimage to Shah Noorani, and the concept of tracing the journey on my motorbike added an adventurous edge to it. When a friend extended an invitation to join a group of bikers for the same destination, my excitement doubled.
On a sunny Sunday morning, I was ready for the journey, but the first stop was a Pathan hotel, where fellow bikers were congregating. Amidst the aroma of chai and parathas, there was a buzz of anticipation. As night fell around 8 PM, we gathered to receive a brief lecture detailing the journey, safety precautions, and guidance on overtaking techniques—essential for the long ride ahead.
We made a brief halt at the Northern Bypass to ensure all riders were accounted for. After regrouping, we throttled our engines, eager to reach the tomb of Shah Noorani. Midway, we paused at a hotel, a mere five-minute break to stretch and rest our backs before continuing our quest.
Upon reaching the tomb, there was an air of spiritual anticipation. I was eager to delve into the history of Hazrat Shah Noorani, a revered figure who journeyed from Thatta to Balochistan around 1449 AD, during the reign of Jam Nizamuddin II Samo of the Samma dynasty. The connection of Noorani with the fourth Caliph Ali and his fabled battle with the Gokal demon intrigued me, but comprehensive details eluded my grasp. A cap placed on the grave, reminiscent of a groom’s, sparked my curiosity further.
After paying our respects, we set off for Lahoot. The name Lahoot was shrouded in mystery, and upon inquiry, I was directed towards a mountain claiming to house this mystical place. The ascent by foot was tough yet compelling. Reaching the top, where Shia flags fluttered, hinted at a religious connection I was yet to understand.
Venturing into the dark cave, rumored to be the real Lahoot, was intimidating for many, but the spirit of adventure propelled me forward. The path was treacherous, and as we relied on torchlight for guidance, I saw a small, green box, a cap similar to the one at Shah Noorani’s tomb, and a prayer mat laid out for the faithful. It was a profound moment, marred only by the cave’s suffocating darkness.
Descending from the cave, we encountered a place curiously named ‘Maa ka Pait’—nothing more than a stone but steeped in local lore. The journey back to the foot of the mountain was just as challenging, leaving us thirsty, hungry, and racing against time to return to Karachi before the day’s end.
This journey was more than just a road trip; it was an exploration of faith, history, and the limits of our own endurance. It left us with memories etched deep in our hearts and a yearning to uncover more of such mystical places that lie in the heartland of our beautiful country.