Why Muslims don’t answer the azan in this Bihar village

Forty-five-year-old Zahid Ansari gives the azan, an Islamic call to prayer, from the mosque in Sarbahdi village that falls in the Bihar Sharif block of Nalanda five times every day without fail. But he receives no visitors ever. He then offers namaz alone at the mosque as the lone Muslim resident of the village.

No Muslim stays in the village, once dominated by the community. According to the 2011 Population Census, however, the village is home to approximately 680 Hindu families, with Zahid as the only Muslim left.

Born and brought up in Sarbadhi, Zahid spent his childhood seeing his father work as a muezzin in the village’s mosque, built 200 years ago. For years, Zahid stayed in the village with his father, but after his demise in 2012, Zahid refused to leave unlike others from his community. Now, Zahid stays in the mosque and takes care of all the abandoned properties that belong to the Muslims of the village.

Zahid Ansari promised his father he would never leave the village mosque. He continues to keep the promise.

With no family to take care of him and no people in his religious community, Zahid follows the same schedule every day. He wakes up, cleans the mosque and its premises, gives out the azan. When the village goes to sleep, Zahid works as a village school night guard to earn his livelihood.

On Fridays and during festivals in which religious congregations are held, he visits a nearby village. While his life may be mundane, it is the neighbours from the other community who add a dash of colours.

Forty years ago, Sarbahdi had a thriving Muslim community. A popular tale suggests that the village had a Muslim zamindar named Nazzo Babo and his friend Bhikhari Mehto. They were so close that till the time they lived, there was no case of communal violence or hatred in this village.

“People of all religions celebrated festivals together,” Zahid tells The Federal. However, in 1981, communal clashes erupted in Bihar Sharif, killing more than 45 people and injuring over 70 others in violence that spread over five days. When riots ended, fear hung heavy in the air.

Many Muslims started shifting to the town, some out of fear and others in search of job.

“Ever since the riots, Muslim families started moving out of the village in search of peace and greener pastures,” said Santosh Paswan, a man in his 60s.”

“The remains of Muslim community’s existence can be seen in the graveyards, shrine, Imam Bara, etc. but most of the Muslims have sold their houses, severing all ties with the village,” he added.

Separated from wife, Zahid saw even his siblings shift to the cities and towns. But he stayed back to honour the promise made to his father that he would never desert the mosque. “I promised my father that I will take care of the mosque till my last breath and I am keeping up with the promise.”

While the entire Muslim community left, villagers have tried to ensure Zahid doesn’t feel left out. Whether it is a festival or wedding, he is always invited. When he is unwell and hence unable to cook, people ensure he gets food and the required care.

“Whenever Zahid needs anything or has any suggestions, we are always there for him. Since the mosque has no water supply, we also ensure that we give him water,” said Santosh.

Earlier, Zahid took tuition of elementary and primary school students and so stays popular among the students. “Even children of the village respect him and call him ‘sir’ or ‘master sahab’ out of respect,” Santosh said.

Asked about the absence of water supply at the mosque, village sarpanch Uttam Kumar said, “We initially gave the proposal of setting up a handpump outside the mosque, but Zahid refused, citing that it will only dampen the area. So, the villagers provide water to Zahid for his chores.”

“Though Zahid is the only Muslim left, we ensure that no discrimination happens against him. As he takes care of Muslim properties here, there are instances when property disputes happen. But we ensure that Zahid gets the required support and no encroachment happens on these properties,” the sarpanch added.

There is approximately 2200 acres of land that is still owned by Muslims in Sarbahdi. Zahid takes care of these properties for which he gets a meager sum of Rs 3,000 per month from Bibi Soghra Waqf Estate. Since, these properties are unattended, sometimes some antisocial elements try encroaching on them. The panchayat steps in to ensure the properties are not encroached upon in such cases.

Zahid concurs on the support he gets from those in the village.

“Some villagers are now using an Imam Bara and a graveyard as the cowshed and for grain storage. These properties are left abandoned, so I don’t mind when villagers use it. But whenever there is a case where they try to create a ruckus around it, the sarpanch intervenes and supports me,” he said.

The village doesn’t just have a relation with Zahid, but the ties are older.

“I not only knew Zahid’s father but also his grandfather. We lived together like a family. I visited Muslim shrines with Zahid's father and also prayed there without any discrimination. Zahid is like my son; I even scold Zahid for leaving his wife, and he does not mind it,” Ashok Mehto, an octogenarian, said.

But not all is hunky dory. Some mock Zahid’s isolation. “They say, ‘You’re safe here because Hindus rule. If roles reversed, you’d flee like Hindus in Bangladesh,’” he shares, refereeing to social media discussions about Hindu minorities elsewhere. Even as Zahid laughs it admitting “The peace feels fragile,” he agrees barring a few instances he gets widespread support from fellow villagers.

“When I go out of the village for some work and miss out on giving the azan in the mosque, people call me and enquire if I am doing well and why the azan was not given,” he said.

Villagers say they are used to the azan.

“Ever since we were children, we have been accustomed to the sound of azan. Now, if we do not listen to azan, we feel something is missing. We don’t want Zahid to leave this village,” said Ashok.

Both Ashok and Zahid agree the Muslims are missed in the village.

“We miss the time when our Muslim friends also lived here. We miss our friends and wish we could all stay together in the old age. We wish our Muslim brothers could come back and reside in the village again.”

While some still miss their old days and old friends, the question of the future of Muslims and their lost heritage still lingers, with many asking the same question, “What will happen when the last of the Muslim is no more.”