The sun kept breaking through the clouds over Goalanda on Sunday, adding to the heat of a humid afternoon. At the damaged shrine of Nurul Haque, better known as Nural Pagla, sweat ran down the faces of people who had gathered to pray and remember him.
Nur Ahmed stood beside what remained of the grave, one hand resting on its broken edge. There was nobody beneath it.
As he began talking about Nural, he cried. “I have nurtured my Doyal in my heart and soul for so many years,” Ahmed said.
Nearly a year earlier, Nural’s body had been dug from this grave, carried to the Dhaka-Khulna highway and set on fire. Much of the shrine was also destroyed. More than 50 people were injured in the violence, according to reports, and one follower, Rasel Molla, later died.
On Sunday, the followers returned in numbers for the first major public gathering at the shrine since the attack. They called it Urs Mubarak, gathering for prayers and Milad and to remember the man they still refer to as Doyal, or Doyal Baba.
There was little left of the shrine they had known. But for many of them, the absence of Nural’s body appeared to make the place no less significant.
“Whether his body is here or not, we will come,” Nur Ahmed said.
Nural died on August 23, 2025, and his family buried him in an elevated grave beside his home in Goalanda. It soon became the focus of a local religious dispute.
Islamic groups objected to the height and colour of the grave, saying its appearance resembled the Kaaba. They also objected to a sign identifying the site as a shrine associated with Imam Mahdi. The family agreed to alter some features and lowered the structure.
The changes did not end the dispute.
On September 5, after Friday prayers, a crowd attacked Nural’s home and shrine. Buildings were vandalised and set on fire. His body was removed from the grave, carried to the main road and burned.
Mohammad Abul Kalam, who lives about 1.5 kilometres from the shrine, was there.
He said followers had been observing Milad-un-Nabi and were preparing to leave after receiving tabarruk when people he identified as members of the “Tawhidi Janata” arrived.
“They broke through, entered the place and set fire to it,” he said. “They beat people and did many things.”
Abul Kalam said he was struck on his head and back while trying to protect a woman. He later escaped upstairs with others as the ground floor burned. He said Nural had instructed his followers not to retaliate when confronted.
“Our guru taught us that Islam never wants fighting or conflict,” he said. “If someone strikes you, take the blow. Do not strike him back.”
What Abul Kalam remembers most clearly is watching Nural’s body being taken away.
“We could not bring back what was ours,” he said. “That sorrow will remain inside us — not only today, but until the Day of Judgment.”
For his followers, however, Nural’s importance was built over decades, long before the dispute over his grave.
They describe a man to whom people brought ordinary troubles: unemployment, illness, family problems, plans to travel abroad. They sought prayers and advice. Some say he helped them directly.
Ahmed said Nural taught followers to pray and fast, care for their parents, respect others and avoid dishonesty and bribery.
“His main work was to invite people towards the right and beautiful path, to present true Islam and educate people in that teaching,” he said.
But Nural’s religious teachings and the practices surrounding his shrine were contested.
Some local Muslims regarded them as incompatible with Islam. The most serious disagreements involved his discussions of Imam Mahdi, the design of his grave and practices at the shrine, including sajda, or prostration. Critics also objected to followers attributing extraordinary spiritual powers to him.
His followers reject the accusation that Nural claimed to be Imam Mahdi.
“He did not claim to be Imam Mahdi,” Ahmed said. “He merely spoke about Imam Mahdi and praised him.”
Ahmed also denied that the grave had intentionally been designed to resemble the Kaaba.
“Some bad people made it an issue and spread it around that it was made in the style of the Kaaba,” he said.
The theological arguments are only one part of how Nural’s followers remember him. Their stories are often more personal.
Husne Ara, an elderly woman from Harishava in Rajbari, sat near the damaged shrine and recalled approaching Nural about her daughter, who had given birth to six girls.
She wanted a grandson. “My Doyal told me to pray one rakat of nafl prayer,” she said.
Husne Ara said she followed his instructions, prayed, recited Durood Sharif and asked Allah for a boy. Her daughter later gave birth to a son.
“After six daughters, a son was born from my daughter’s womb,” she said.
For Husne Ara, the sequence of events reinforced her belief in Nural. “He is not here, but he is in our hearts,” she said.
Rabeya, another longtime follower, traces her connection with the shrine to the 1980s, when she first came with her father, Anisuddin Mia. Her father became closely associated with Nural and remained with him for decades.
Rabeya remembers Nural helping her family at a time when her husband was earning little. Through one of his followers, she said, Nural helped her husband obtain a shop. It eventually became the family’s livelihood.
For families like hers, memories of the shrine are intertwined with marriage, children, illness, employment and financial hardship.
Mohammad Afazuddin Sheikh has been associated with Nural for 38 years. A farmer from Pabna, he first met him in 1988 after becoming seriously ill.
“I had become mad,” he said.
Afazuddin said he recovered and continued visiting the shrine. His religious life does not fit neatly into the divisions surrounding Nural. He also follows Tablighi Jamaat, while one of his sons is madrasa-educated and follows the Zubair faction.
His son does not know that he visits Nural’s shrine.
“My son doesn’t even know that I come here,” he said.
Before last year’s violence, Afazuddin was not a particularly regular visitor. The attack initially made him reluctant to return. Then, he said, the opposite happened.
“After the trouble, I didn’t want to come anymore,” he said. “But then I felt that pull.”
He has returned twice since the attack.
“He calls, and that is why we come,” Afazuddin said. “If there is sincerity in the heart, you will come.”
Nural’s following also extended beyond Muslims.
Probhass Shah, a Hindu follower from Bhanga in Faridpur, said he continued visiting because of faith and affection. Ashid Barui, another Hindu follower from Shaltha, described Nural in divine terms.
“Can Allah be seen? Can Allah be shown?” Barui said. “You cannot show Him. You can only speak of your faith.”
Korban Ali Biswas, a poet from Kalukhali, has known the shrine since his school days. He remembers Nural as a religious teacher who urged people to pray, care for their parents and avoid lying. He also remembers the shrine as a place where Islamic music and poetry were performed.
Outside the circle of followers, attitudes remain markedly different.
Akkas, a resident of Ward 5 in Goalanda municipality, said plainly, “We don’t support the shrine.”
But he said he had no interest in another confrontation.
“I don’t get involved in this,” he said. “Allah will take care of my deeds. He will judge them.”
The attack produced several criminal cases. Some local residents were arrested and spent months in jail.
Masud Rana, a rental-car trader in Goalanda Bazar who was named in one case, said many of those accused had not participated in the violence.
“Eighty percent of the people who were named were not there,” he said.
A case filed from the shrine’s side was later withdrawn following a settlement. Two other cases remain under investigation.
Mohammad Shafiqul Islam, officer-in-charge of Goalanda police station, told Waadaa that police arrested 12 people in connection with the violence. All are now on bail.
He said police currently have no information suggesting another attack is imminent.
“There is no such threat or adverse information,” he said. The situation, he added, was “completely normal.”
On Sunday, that normality was visible in the simple fact that Nural’s followers could gather again.
The shrine remains damaged. The religious disagreement that preceded the attack has not disappeared. Nor have the memories of what happened there last September.
At the very centre of the gathering was the broken grave.
There was nobody to pray beside. For the people who had returned, that did not seem to matter. Anisuddin Mia, a lifelong follower of the Nural Pagla, remained near the grave, remembering the man he had followed for years.
“Whether his body is here or not,” he said, “we will come.”
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