he first episode of Allegory: A Tapestry of Guru Nanak’s Travels, a docu-series by Singapore-based banker turned documentary filmmaker and author Amardeep Singh, begins with a rendition of a couplet from Allama Muhammad Iqbal’s poem Nanak ( / ). This endeavour seeks to explore a forgotten Iqbal in the context of a ‘vilified Iqbal’ in modern-day majoritarian India and a ‘constructed Iqbal’ within the pedagogic culture of Pakistan. Nanak, a poem from Iqbal’s first Urdu poetic collection, Baang-i-Dra (The Call of the Marching Bell), published in September 1924, honours Guru Nanak as a mard—kamil (a perfect man). The poem delves into themes of Buddha’s message, Brahmanism, the rejection of caste (also a part of Sikh tradition), monotheism and the teachings of Guru Nanak. Iqbal positions the Punjab as the centre of revolution in Hindustan, as proclaimed in the poem’s concluding couplet.

Phir uthi aakhir sadaa tauheed ki Punjab say/ Hind ko ik mard-i kamil nay jagaya khawab say

[Again from the Punjab the call of monotheism arose:

A perfect man roused India from its slumber]

In Iqbal’s poetic landscape, Nanak emerges as a figure foreshadowing the impending misfortune of Hindustan, a land that, for Iqbal, has forgotten the message of Buddha. Reading Iqbal on Sikhism is crucial for understanding the shared monotheism of Islam and Sikhism, which helps correct the long-standing misconception surrounding the ‘cultivated shared identity of monotheism’—a notion often linked to Pakistan’s support for the Sikh separatist movement in the past. Amardeep Singh’s docu-series, a unique and personal journey, extends his passion for documenting the Sikh heritage of Pakistan. By following in the footsteps of Guru Nanak, spanning multiple countries and centuries, the series raises important questions about how Sikhism is perceived and understood in Pakistan.

Sikh viirsa, a term typically associated with the Sikh heritage in Pakistan, highlights places like gurdwaras, samadhis, havelis, forts and valuable material culture. This material culture, largely associated with the Sikh royals, comes from a dynasty that lasted for half a century until the British conquest. It has since been passed down through generations, now scattered across public and private museums. Within this virsa, which tends to depict a lost legacy, the Sikhs are viewed as heirs to a once great power—an empire they once ruled. However, the partition left them with a profound loss of linguistic, cultural, spiritual and religious access to significant pilgrimage sites.

In response to this collective loss, Sikhs have created modes of social organisation, public displays of their militaristic tradition, literary production, theological debates and reaffirmed concepts of sovereignty. In crafting their sense of belonging, they imagine a sense of ownership. Central to this virsa is the gurdwara, both as a symbol of religion and a community service centre, which continues to trace Sikh presence across vast areas of Pakistan—areas that were once part of Ranjit Singh’s empire. In this terrain, Sikh history often takes on a gendered, male-dominated perspective. The cartographic representation of these areas, now a major part of Pakistan, is often measured by the percentage of Ranjit Singh’s empire that lies within present-day borders, with the rest divided among newly formed nation-states.

The recurring images of crumbling gurdwaras in the imagination and portrayal of Sikh virsa reflect a fractured identity and the internal struggles of Sikhs. Many Sikhs, longing for a sense of home, visit these places not once but repeatedly. This raises the question: how did these places become the subject of an archive? In institutionalised efforts to survey Sikh heritage in Pakistan, gurdwaras have taken a central position. The terms ‘memoir’ and ‘shrines,’ which appear in titles of books, reflect the connection between Islam and Sikhism built over shared Sufi mysticism, with memoirs featuring sketches of all Sikh gurus and photographs of gurdwaras.

A series, titled Memoir of the Department of Archaeology in Pakistan: Sikh Shrines in West Pakistan, offers insight into when the archaeological survey began—shortly after the creation of Pakistan. In the preface to Sikh Shrines in West Pakistan, Dr FA Khan, the director of archaeology in Pakistan, explains that “Soon after independence, the Department of Archaeology undertook a survey of all the important monuments protected under the Ancient Monuments Preservation Act. The management of Sikh shrines had been disrupted, and the responsibility for their maintenance and repair fell on the Government of Pakistan, necessitating a preliminary survey of all Sikh shrines in Pakistan by the Department of Archaeology.” Khan Mohammad Waliullah Khan, the author of the book, notes in the introduction that “this work does not intend to focus on the architectural genius of the followers of Sikhism.”

The transformation of these places into sites of remembrance, which became pilgrimage points, appealed to a new generation of the Sikh diaspora, primarily second-generation migrants from the Partition. This wave of Sikh diaspora visitors, enchanted by their histories, was driven to document these sites. It included people like Dalvir Singh Pannu, Bobby Singh Bansal and Amardeep Singh, whose perspectives on this virsa are codified in the Partition’s horrors, oral history and tales of returning home. These stories, long awaited since the Partition, have finally emerged over the past few decades. As the community was uprooted, many histories and rich literatures were lost during the migration but later reproduced in Indian Punjab and the Sikh diaspora. The lost intimacies with places and people have been reshaped in the last decade.

Sikh-Muslim interactions, particularly after the 1960s, increased as workers from both communities migrated to the UK, US, Canada and various European countries. These encounters, grounded in linguistic similarities and a shared nostalgia for the homes they lost in 1947, fostered new connections based on their shared migrant experience. Sikh-Muslim interactions found expression in new diasporic experiences and reimagined the Punjab through cultural products.

The news of the gurdwara’s functionality at Kartarpur and the opening of an easy passage for Sikhs from East Punjab came in 2019, but the struggle and demand for this had been long-standing. In 2019, Pakistan finally accepted the long-awaited demand for the Kartarpur Corridor. This initiative, framed around the peaceful legacy of Guru Nanak, manifested in the form of the newly built gurdwara. However, resistance also resurfaced, reviving the concept of Ajami-Israel, a notion that first emerged in the 1950s and was later propagated by Agha Shorish Kashmiri. This idea continues to influence and address the insecurities and sensitivities surrounding Sikh pilgrimage and intellectual encounters in Pakistan.

Sikh martial figures stand in contrast to Sikh anti-colonial figures in the celebration of this virsa. In 2012, Shadman Chowk (Square) was renamed Bhagat Singh Chowk, in honour of the anti-colonial revolutionary Bhagat Singh, who was hanged there in 1931. However, the name was soon reverted to Shadman Chowk, as Bhagat Singh, despite identifying as an atheist, carried a Sikh identity, which was cited as the reason for keeping the original name intact. In August 2021, a life-size bronze statue of Ranjit Singh was attacked for the second time, ultimately leading to its removal. That same year, a statue of Hari Singh Nalwa was attacked in Haripur.

The reign of Ranjit Singh is romanticised by certain sections in Pakistan as a golden period in the Punjab’s history, portraying him as the first indigenous ruler or a scion of the land since the time of Mahmud of Ghazni. However, this romanticisation overlooks the sensitivities of other ethnicities, many of whom have a history of being oppressed and attacked by these figures. The idea of Ranjit Singh’s indigeneity within this progressive thought is a misunderstanding. The narrative that views Muslim warriors as outsiders glorifies militarism and reinforces a military-centric approach—the only difference being the religious identity of the figures in question.

In colonial-era cities like Rawalpindi, Gujranwala and Peshawar, neighbourhoods named Nanak Pura serve as remnants of Sikh presence, though many were renamed after 1947. These are not isolated examples of places being renamed. The celebration and documentation of Pakistan’s Sikh heritage often present a montage of crumbling architecture, a deep longing to return to a lost home and the shared history of Muslim-Sikh relations and emotions. While the legacy of previous rulers and warlords is acknowledged, Guru Nanak and his message are often remain from these narratives.

English translation of the couplet of Iqbal’s poem, Nanak is taken from Allama Iqbal Poetry

The writer is a historian, travel writer and translator