X: @vivekbhavsar
In the quiet town of Tando Allahyar, nestled in the heart of Sindh, stands an ancient Hindu temple—its once-bright colours are now faded, its walls bearing the weight of centuries. The temple has no regular worshippers, no grand ceremonies, and no ringing bells. Yet, every morning, before the first rays of sunlight touch its domed rooftop, a man arrives at its doorstep.
His name is Ghulam Nabi, a 65-year-old Muslim who has spent the last four decades caring for this temple as if it were his own home. Armed with a broom and a bucket of water, he sweeps the courtyard, washes the stone idols, and lights a small clay lamp. “It’s my duty,” he says simply. “A place of worship, no matter whose, should never be abandoned.”
Ghulam Nabi inherited this responsibility from his father, who had served as the temple’s caretaker long before Partition. “In those days, this temple was full of life,” he recalls. “Hindu families from nearby villages would come for prayers, children would run around playing, and the air would be thick with the scent of incense and flowers.” But as the years passed and migrations changed the demographics of the region, the number of devotees dwindled. Many Hindus left for India, leaving behind not just their homes but their sacred spaces, too.
After his father’s passing, Ghulam Nabi took over, refusing to let time erase the temple’s presence. “People often ask me why I do this,” he says with a chuckle. “Some think I’m crazy, others call me a guardian of history.” But he has never wavered in his duty, even when extremists in the area questioned his devotion to an abandoned Hindu shrine.
Despite his commitment, challenges loom large. The structure is crumbling, its carvings eroded by rain and neglect. Ghulam Nabi has appealed to authorities to help with restoration, but help has yet to come. “I do what I can, but I am an old man now,” he sighs. “I worry about what will happen when I am gone.”
As he lights the evening lamp and watches its flickering glow illuminate the temple’s worn idols, one thing is clear—faith, in its purest form, transcends religion. Ghulam Nabi may not pray here, but his service is an act of worship in itself.
For now, as long as he walks through its doors, the temple will not be forgotten.
