The coastal forest dense of Irikkur a locality within Kannur has been lit up all the nights, for having the spiritual moonlight glow. Everything that appeared there had something pious pierced within it. As I paved the way through, even the green leaves near the shrine chanted with reverence. It seemed to be two of the elders from the Sahābas (Companions of the Prophet), where some devotees congregated for Ziyara (practice of visiting graves) under an Ālim (religious scholar trained in an Islamic seminary). While some teared for a while, some gasped with a heart of piety. As my curiosity grew over the spiritual saints of this shrine, I tried to interfere with one of the locals of the region, to inquire about the conformity.

During the Ziyara, some teared for a while, and some gasped with a heart of piety near the shrine.

I waited for the Alim to conclude his Tawasul (seeking help through a spiritual intermediary or saint from Allah), and watched the smoke of sacredness burning from the incense sticks near the very first two tombs, which were covered by black-golden shrouds and raised a little bit. There were offerings like Jaram (clothes) preserved for Tabarruk.

Through narrowed way to the inner greenery, the devotees walked barefoot in veneration of the land.

Moving forward, I found a long, narrowed way to the inner greenery, through which the devotees walked barefoot in veneration of the land. I gauged the frown branches of the trees, which appeared curled and bent in reverence, as being usual hangers for the Vavvals (the bats), which are said to be fed spiritually by the graves.

While some graves are well-formed, a few appear slightly broken naturally.

Suddenly, I noticed some kind of rocks with inscriptions on them, which were in Old Arabic, and seemed very difficult to grasp the style of the letters. The curiosity again irritated me deep inside. As I approached the Alim, reading my heart, making a Musafaha (the Islamic tradition of shaking hands), and closing his eyes as if gaining something spiritual internally, he said: "I'm the one who lived here since the age of three, this smell of incense melted in me." Looking at one of the broken rocks, he began to mutter something very softly, as if someone invisible were standing in front of him. This made me feel that something subtle was there in a spiritual sense, it would be said as occult.

Some graves are merged together, and some are buried in a row alone by their servants from Jinns.

Reciting some lines of Malās, supposed to be written about the saints and their metaphysical presence, he further interpreted the meaning as untranslatable and told us that these pieces and forms of rocks are graves of the Sahāba. Giving us a seat, he tried to express the sacred mysteries around the graves, which are growing.

there were graves smaller than others, which may be of Sighār (young ones) among them.

And he went on saying: "These growing graves are estimated as hundreds of Sahābas, or believed to be of Shuhada (martyrs) during the prophetic period, or who were sent to Malabar with Malik bin Dīnār (the first preacher of Islam in Kerala), and were later split into small groups for Da'wa (preaching) to the Malabar regions of Nilamuttam (Kannur), Madayil, Srigandapuram (Kasargod), and Kaniramuttam (Ernakulam)." Meanwhile, I noticed there were graves smaller than others, which may be of Sighār (young ones) among them.

Even at night, with no light, visitors could fearlessly enter this dense forest

I have been questioned by the internal part of mine, frequently of these two: Despite the strangeness of the usage of the term, how do the graves here grow, and by whom are the graves made in this formation, which the Malabar's grave culture has never been similar to?

The graves growing beside the trees were seen as healers for living beings inhabiting around the region, and even for the fruits falling too.

He again added: "While growing is part of Daraja (metaphysical ranking) elevation, some graves remain formed normal comparably small, slightly broken, and some merged together as rocky stone pieces, which were believed to be carved by their servants from Jinns (unseen supernatural beings) during burial. The inscriptions seen on the graves are in Arabic of the pre-Hajjāj ibn Yūsuf al-Thaqafi era of Harakāt (diacritical marks), which proves they belong to the Şahāba."

"Enne Vilipporkk, Ñān Kāval Ennovar" (Muhyuddin Mala by Qadi Muhammad)

Following the recitation of this Mala, he continued quite seriously: "Here, no trees are cut, but they decay themselves, without any material touch. And all nights are of ethereal glow and spiritually alive even visitors could fearlessly go to the forest dense during night with no light. And the broken pieces of branches are said to illuminate for visitors during the 26th of Ramadan. There is an occult tendency on nights of every Friday, the Rühs (souls) of saints over the region travel to the greater saint, and the Jasad (physical body) remains in the grave. Here, the absence of Rüh leads to loss of Himayah (security) from Fasad (worldly afflictions)."

An old Maqām belonging to the Saints from the Aydarūsī lineage.

Being surprised by our strange practice of photographing graves, a few locals interrupted us out of curiosity. After convincing them of the purpose, they said: "Natives were unaware of the rocks growing out of the soil until a Hadramī Sayyid from Hadramawt within the Aydarūsī lineage, Kunnummal Valiyapappa arrived here, lived, served, and later a dream was revealed to him that those graves are of Şahāba. So, climb the hill until you find that shrine." Trekking along the narrow sideways, I reached up the hill, where I found an old Maqām belonging to the Saints from the Aydarūsī lineage.