Week in the Life: Mian Shamshuddin - Holy Man: Angry spirits make healer work hard

FOR A living saint Mian Shamshuddin looked tired. He smoothed out his white beard, rubbed his eyes and rearranged his white robes. It had been a tough week, he explained apologetically. There had been a lot of work to do - a lot of people had been possessed by djinns or spirits and it had been draining to exorcise them all.

Mian Shamshuddin is a pir - a religious healer, a spiritual leader and, by virtue of a distant ancestor, a living saint. For tens of millions of poor, uneducated Pakistanis their pir is their doctor's surgery, stress counselling service and citizens' advice bureau rolled into one. If your neighbours have cast a spell on you, your husband beats you or there is just a pain in your right molar the pir, who holds the accumulated wisdom of generations of holy men, will sort it out.

Every day from 11am until 1pm Mr Shamshuddin dispenses charms, verses, medicine and advice in about equal proportions, sitting on a bed in his home in a run-down area in the centre of the eastern Pakistani city of Lahore. The room is bare, with white-washed walls, straw matting on the floor and a single fan and a clock. Mr Shamshuddin sits with a green chest full of potions, herbs, bits of paper and rupees open in front of him.

On Thursday he spent two hours conducting a mass exorcism. With those possessed sitting in front of him with saffron garlands round their necks he chanted verses - some from the Koran, some his own - and blew gently on them all. Then he tapped them with a metal spatula before slapping it hard on the ground "to show the spirits what they would get if they didn't go away immediately". The threat of violence seemed to work, as it so often does in Pakistan. The spirits appeared to make a speedy exit and the pir's patients filed out, all smiles and salaams.

Wednesday's audience had been different. A dozen men and women sat on the mats before Mr Shamshuddin and told him their problems. A woman was troubled by visions of dead children, another's cloth business was failing because envious relatives had cast a spell on it, a third was treated badly by her husband. One man had travelled 100 miles because "once he had been a good worker but now felt lazy all the time".

To each the pir listened and nodded sagely before chanting over them and tapping them with his metal spatula. For some he prescribed medicine - concoctions of herbs and oil he dispensed personally. For others he wrote out charms on bits of paper - to be burnt and then eaten. Quite how effective the ingested ashes would be against serious physical conditions Mr Shamshuddin did not say.

Pirs are an important part of the Sufi tradition of Islam - a mystical, devotional strand of the faith that emphasises a personal, emotional and often unorthodox style of worship. But, though millions believe deeply in their holiness, Pakistan's pirs are increasingly the target of criticism.

Human rights activists say that many pirs abuse their authority to sexually and physically abuse women placed in their care. A series of books, one by the wife of a well-known pir, has revealed a seedy, vicious and venal side that has provoked widespread controversy.

Many of the pirs have enormous followings and, as such, huge political power. A number of pirs, who are often big landowners too, sit in provincial and national parliaments in Pakistan and lead secular lifestyles. Others have become rich on the gifts of their followers. And some, in this deeply conservative country, cause outrage. One pir believes everything can be cured by watching girls dance.

Mr Shamshuddin, who is 62 and has been a pir since his father died 40 years ago, says there are many frauds who give all pirs a bad name. "I am not interested in politics and never ask for money. I learnt my knowledge from my father who learnt from his father and so on back four hundred years," he said. Next to Mr Shamshuddin's house is ashrine to the 17th- century ancestor who started the family business.

Yesterday, Mr Shamshuddin said, he had his toughest case for months. It required all the knowledge gained by his forefathers over generations. A man came to him who had recently been to India where he had been possessed by an Indian spirit.

"He was staring and rolling his eyes. I knew he was about to attack me so I started reciting verses. He started shivering and the spirit was getting very angry. I had to beat him hard. Finally I told him to go back to India and not to attack Pakistan and Muslims and, thanks be to God, he went."

But, said Mr Shamshuddin, now he was exhausted.

"These Indian djinns really take it out of you. I hope I don't get any more like that for a while. I don't know why they are so strong. It must be all those lentils."