Kolkata: Legend has it that a Muslim Pir, in the guise of a faqir, had once asked a cowherd’s daughter for some milk. The girl lied and said she hadn’t any. The Pir wore a vibrant cap on his head and had a bowl of germs in one hand and a magic sceptre in the other. Angered by this falsehood, he cursed the girl and the entire village by releasing the germs. The cows and calves were infected and started to die in great numbers. In desperation, the villagers sought the Pir’s forgiveness and convinced him to restore life to the livestock. A plaque on Manik Pir Mandir with details of the foundation. Photo: Shubhashish Shau.It might be difficult to imagine amidst recent Indian phenomenon of cow vigilantism targeting Muslims, and even Dalit Hindus on some occasions, that there was a time, just about two decades ago, when sufi faqirs used to travel from cattle sheds to cattle sheds in villages of southern West Bengal, to sing the songs of Manik Pir, a great Sufi saint regarded as the protector of cattle, especially cows, in both Hindu and Muslim households.For decades, travelling minstrels and faqirs paid their respects through songs dedicated to Manik Pir in southern West Bengal and Bangladesh. The songs are known as Manik Pirer Gaan (songs of Manik Pir) and explore varied themes. Here’s a typical Manik Pir song:Choushotti beyati gorur choushotti daoyai/Maniker doya holey tobey paar pai.Jihwaty hoile kaṭa gola hoile phola,haatete labon diya diben tetey Dola(Sixty-four ailments of cows have 64 cures We’ll be saved only if Manik is kind If there’s a cut in the tongue or swelling in the throat,Take salt in hand, rub it gently on the sore.)Some songs, like the one quoted, describe the types of diseases that cows and calves face, some elucidate about any specific problem one is facing (this genre is specifically known as Mushkil-Ashan or songs about solving problems), and some may also handle issues such as women being ‘difficult’ to deal with, harkening to the larger society’s obsession with controlling women’s choices and bodies. These bards travel from house to house, singing songs and asking for alms. Once paid, they shower Manik Pir’s blessings on the household.These songs, however, have nearly vanished over the past two decades, as cattle sheds have ceased to be part of domestic life. “Not because Muslims ate away all the cows, as the Hindu supremacist cow vigilante groups might like to propagate, but because of the introduction of tractors and tillers on the farming fields and the splitting of joint families into nuclear ones,” says Puranjan Mandal, a resident of the Sunderbans, the mangrove-distinguished village group in south Bengal.He added that with no cowsheds left in these areas, Manik Pir songs, which prayed for the well-being of the cattle, have lost their appeal.Manik Pir pujas were held in cattlesheds, with shaluk flowers, incense sticks, and vermillion smeared on cows. The special variety of songs sung at these pujas were called Goyelani Gaan, or songs sung in the cowsheds. Manik Pir’s worshipping space (called the Muslim ‘Dargah’ and the Hindu ‘Mandir’ interchangeably) has long been a haven for both Hindus and Muslims facing losses from diseases and deaths in their livestock. As Subhodeep Jana, 37, a resident of Padumbasan village in Tamluk, a small town in southwestern Bengal says, “I remember my grandmother offering puja to Manik Pir in our dargah. She had vowed that if our calves stopped dying, she would offer the cow’s first milk to the Pir before even feeding the calves.” Tamluk, along with a few other areas spread over south Bengal, including the Sunderbans, and extending into Bangladesh districts such as Shatkhira and Kushtiya, has Manik Pir temples and dargahs that still have regular pujas and prayers. Jana has fond recollections of a childhood reverberating with old village traditions and local folklore. He has grown up seeing faqirs arriving at his village and singing songs, he remembers legends of Manik Pir travelling on horseback invisibly through the roads, his arrival only understood by the sound of hoofbeats. The Rautara Manik Pir Mandir. Photo: Shubhashish Shau.The Manik Pir mandir that’s close to his house predates anything even his grandmother has known. Inside the small, modest tomb-like building that has seen better days lies a curious assortment of clay horses, symbols of Manik Pir’s equestrian exploits. Behind them is a raised surface, which Jana refers to as an astana – this is where Muslim devotees spread their chador and offer shirni as prayer. Hindus offer twin clay horses, incense, and flower garlands. The religions hum in perfect harmony, under the revered eyes of the cow god.At the Rautara village in Howrah district of West Bengal in Western India, a 230-year old fair is held every 2nd baisakh (summer months) at a football ground adjoining a Manik Pir temple. Shubhashis Shau, secretary of the Rautara Roy Brothers Football Club, who currently manage the temple and the fair, says, “Every 2nd baisakh (summer months), the Soyla or Sohela Fair is held in the football ground to honour the Pir.” Shau says the one-day fair attracts huge crowds of Hindus and Muslims from all surrounding areas. The temple was originally established by the local Roy family “on the second of Baishakh, 1356 (Bengali calendar),” as its inscription says. Unfortunately, Manik Pir’s name and his songs are on the verge of complete disappearance. Saurabh Moni, a folk singer from one of the remotest Bangladesh-bordering villages of the Sunderbans is a witness to this gradual decay. Sunderbans is a cluster of island-villages in southern Bengal distinguished by its unique mangrove-dominated topography. Among these, there are Muslim-majority areas, low-caste Hindu areas, and the presence of Kahars (belonging to the Dalit community). “They all had cows, hence they all worshipped Manik Pir,” Moni says. In his childhood, cows and calves dominated the village eco-structure and were a vital part of their self-reliant economies. But times changed. Triggered by the breaking down of traditional joint families into nuclear families and the rise of tractors and tillers for field work, cows began to be viewed as a luxury expense, prompting many to sell off cattle. “We lost a lot of livestock to floods too,” Moni said.As the cow population shrunk, so did the importance and the presence of the cow God – Manik Pir. Today, Shubhashish Shau denies hearing anything about any connection between cows with Manik Pir. Perhaps, a Muslim Saint being worshipped by Hindus as a cattle protector makes no sense in India’s current political and communal climate.Sreemanti Sengupta is a Kolkata-based freelance writer and journalist.