The twin tombs of Hazrat Nizamuddin Auliya and Amir Khusru, the saint and the poet situated close to each other, are a reminder of the deep bond of friendship that existed between the two, who died within six months of each other, the saint first. The great Mexican poet Octavio Paz, of "Hungry Generation" fame, visited Nizamuddin, while an envoy in Delhi a long time back, and recorded his impressions in a moving poem. It was rediscovered by Adil Hasan, a Delhi-based photographer, famous for his photo-book, When Abba was ill, published two years ago.

A piece written by him has two photographs ~ one of an old man with a white beard, sitting on a grave and a woman pottering behind him and the other of a neglected tomb with a single flower growing on it above a long stem, overlooked by two windows of a building built close by. The poem is worth quoting as it shows Octavio Paz's poetic imagination, about which Adil Hasan said, "A poem Led Me to A Saint".

Trees heavy with birds hold the afternoon up with their hands. Arches and patios.

A tank of water, poison green, between red walls.

A corridor leads to the sanctuary:

beggars, flowers, leprosy, marble.

Tombs, two names, their stories: Nizam Uddin, the wandering theologian,

Amir Khusru, the parrot's tongue. The saint and the poet.

A grim star sprouts from a cupola.

Slime sparkles in the pool. Amir Khusru, parrot or mockingbird:

the two halves of each moment, muddy sorrow, voice of light.

Syllables, wandering fires, vagabond architectures:

every poem is time, and burns.

The Tomb of Amir Khusru, Octavio Paz

Amir Khusru, known as Tutie-Hind, or the sweet singing bird of India, was a great soldier, administrator, poet and wit of the 13th and 14th centuries, who served seven kings and is credited with introducing the qawwali into India and also inventing a number of musical instruments (some say). A handsome man, to whom even villages belles were attracted, he is justly famous for coining riddles. Such a genius and philanthropist, over whom Jawaharlal Nehru went ga-ga, is eulogised by posterity as though he passed away only yesterday, not 700 years ago.