By Nasir Aijaz
The Asian Representative
ISLAMABAD: Across continents and centuries, words often take on lives of their own, bridging cultures in unexpected ways. One such fascinating coincidence is the name “Tamachi” which evokes very different worlds: in Sindhi folklore, it recalls a tale of love and loyalty, while in Japan, it represents a quiet district known for rice fields and humble beginnings.
In the oral and poetic traditions of Sindh, “Tamachi” is immortalized as one of the seven legendary romances chronicled by the great Sufi poet Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai in his magnum opus ‘Shah Jo Risalo’.
Tamachi was a prince of Samma dynasty, noble by birth, who fell deeply in love with Noori, a humble fisher girl from the tribe of Keenjhar Lake. Their love story — “Noori Jam Tamachi” is celebrated as one of the most profound in Sindhi literature, embodying humility, faith, and the transcendence of social class.
Noori’s purity of heart and unassuming devotion won over the prince, who chose her not for her beauty, but for her sincerity. The tale, set against the backdrop of the serene Keenjhar Lake near Thatta, a historic town of Sindh province of Pakistan, which symbolizes spiritual equality and divine love.
Even today, pilgrims visit Noori’s tomb, submerged partly in the waters of Keenjhar Lake, to pay homage to this story of love that dissolved all worldly barriers.
Tamachi in Japan
Thousands of miles away, the word “Tamachi” (田町) carries a completely different yet curiously earthy meaning. In Japanese, the characters “田” (ta) mean “rice field”, and “町” (machi) means “town” — together translating to “the town of rice fields.”
Historically, Tamachi was a quiet agricultural area on the outskirts of Edo (modern-day Tokyo), where farmers cultivated rice that sustained the growing city. Over time, it evolved into an urban district, now part of Minato Ward in Tokyo, yet its name still echoes its humble agrarian roots.
Today, Tamachi Station is a bustling business and education hub, home to offices, universities, and residential blocks, but its name remains a linguistic window into Japan’s agricultural past, reminding city dwellers of their connection to the land.
It is purely coincidental that Tamachi of Sindh and Tamachi of Japan share a name. One belongs to the mystical realm of love, devotion, and Sufi symbolism, while the other is grounded in the soil and harvest of everyday life. Yet, both carry a certain poetic resonance – one tied to the heart, and the other to the earth.
Perhaps, in this coincidence lies a gentle reminder: that human cultures, no matter how far apart, are often united by stories and soil — by what we love, and by what sustains us.
