Jun
29
2009

Khwaja Ajmeri – a messenger of love and peace

Posted by
Khwaja sahab

Khwaja sahab

While Wahabiyat closes all the doors and windows on intellectual thinking, Sufism encourages freedom of opinion and unity with God. For Sufis, discrimination on the basis of race, religion, colour or creed, is ungodly.

EVERY THURSDAY, thousands of Sufi shrines across the country come to life as rich and poor, men and women, old and young, scholars and the ignorant, Hindus and Muslims, Sikhs and Christians, transvestites and ganja-smoking dancers come together to speak out their hearts in tacit communication; to pray and party with hope and faith. They arrive with different identities but they leave with one message – love.

Today when a bearded, gun-toting, salwar kameez attired soldier with bombs and fierce hate in his eyes has become a mascot for Muslims, it is still possible to discover the places and people where coolness of mind and body prevails. In the past decade, especially since 9/11, the Islamic world has been witnessing the falling popularity of Wahhabbism (so-called radical Islam) and the powerful resurgence of Sufi culture. It is a blunt response to the literalism and ethical bankruptcy of the Wahabiyat followed by Taleban, Sipa-e-Sahaba and Lashkar like organisations.

While Wahabiyat closes all doors and windows on intellectual thinking, Sufism encourages freedom of opinion and unity with God. For Sufis, discrimination on the basis of race, religion, colour or creed is ungodly. Intellectual development and creativity in cultural spheres are the hallmark of the Sufi movement. Sufism (mystic consciousness) calls for peaceful co-existence of all faiths.

When the viceroy of India had visited the shrine of Khwaja Moin-ud-Din Chisti at Ajmer he saw the people coming there – Hindus and Muslims, Sikhs, believers and non-believers. After his visit he said: “India is ruled by two governments – the British government and the government of Khwaja Ajmeri, and the second one is the greater power because it rules people’s hearts.” Today, Ajmer is ready to welcome the devotees of Khwaja who walk down miles and miles to attend the 797th ‘Urs’ – the major Sufi festival that starts on June 26.

The Urs is a congregation for a Sufi saint’s death anniversary. It is not an occasion to mourn but to rejoice. In Sufi doctrine death or ‘fana’ becomes a source of ‘baqa’ or ‘eternity’.“Duniya ki taraf peeth kara, to khuda ki taraf munh hota hai (If you turn your back to the world you will face God),” was the message of Khwaja of Ajmer. The infinite generosity of the lodge (an abode for lovers of God) is the polar opposite of the world of everyday greed and corruption. Khwaja Ajmeri was the disciple of Khwaja Abu Abdel Chisti and came to India with the army of Shihab-ud-Din Ghauri in 1192 AD and made Ajmer his final worldly destination.As the story goes, when Hazrat Waris Ali Shah of Deva Sahrief came to Ajmer, he took off his shoes and did not put them on throughout his life.

Khwaja Ajmeri was himself a great devotee of Hazrat Imam Hussain who was martyred in Karbala (Iraq) 1400 years ago fighting against the tyrant Ummaiyad ruler Yezid. During his life, Khwaja was a symbol of love and amity between all religions and he inspires the same feeling even after his death.

 

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
27
2009

Michael Jackson: A flight into eternity

Posted by
Michael Jackson

Michael Jackson

The ‘King of Pop’ was a performer who was perfectly complimented by dancing lights, rapid musical renditions and special effects.

WITH THE age and the passage of time, the body reflexes may grow atrophy but the sense of living should not; the level of joy should not. Life is the game of living – all out. I do no longer gyrate with the tunes of ‘Thriller’ or ‘The Lady in My Life’ and ‘The Girl is Mine’, but my heart and every vein of my body dances to the tunes of the ‘King of Pop’.

There was a time, in early eighties, when ‘Madame Tussauds Wax Museum’ at Marylebone Road in London was not packed with every Tom, Harry and Dick to call the visitors and to sell more tickets. It had a touch of class. I remember the biggest space, after the mini replicas of poverty stricken London, was occupied by the legend of music – Michael Jackson. The starlit stage at which the statue of the ‘King of Pop’ raised was a perfect blend of magical dancing lights, rapid musical renditions and special sound effects. There were intermittent recitals of his songs which sent impulses to every feet in the audience to move with rhythm; transformed every one in trance.

The charismatic singer has invariably filled the vacant spaces left by Elvis Presley. Nothing remains for ever and Michael Jackson was no exception. But his untimely and curious death left all the music levers aghast at the scheme of Almighty. After his death every one is talking – be it right or a wrong thing; and my thoughts won’t make any difference. However, a tribute is tribute and as a music lover I owe him that. Elizabeth Taylor, the closest friend of the Jackson expressed her sorrow said, “My heart, my mind are broken. I can’t imagine life without him.” Diana Ross, the former lead singer of ‘Supremes’ who introduced ‘the Jackson 5’ in 1969, couldn’t stop crying and paid her homage: “I am unable to imagine this.” Liz Marie Presley, his loving wife at one time, recalled what Jackson had said when they were still united: ‘I shall die young!”

As world wide mourning continues for the ‘boy of all times’ who moon walked his way into the sunset of his life, into the eternity of memory, his legacy of pop-revolution would remain, haunt and trance the coming generations with awe, respect, admiration and adoration. His health and his reputations – both were precarious and these uncertainties took their toll and painkillers finally killed the patient and the pain.

The singer’s Muslim brother Jermaine, who was converted to Islam in 1969, claimed that Jackson had been considering converting to Islam following acquittal and child abuse charges in 2005. ”When I came back form Mecca I got him a lot of books and he asked me a lot of things about my religion. I told him that it’s beautiful and peaceful. He read everything and he was proud of me that I found something that would give him inner strength and peace. I think it is most probable that Michael Jackson will convert to Islam.” No Jermaine, he was above the circuits of religion. To an ardent and fervent devotee of Michael’s music, no worldly religion can encompass the qualities of a creative person. Hundreds and hundreds of his fans, from all walks of life, who are making the pilgrimage to the ‘Jackson’s Family Compound’ in Los Angles, leaving flowers and messages of love are followers of a ‘Universal Religion of Music’ and Michel is a Prophet who filled this world with every feeling you name it.

The world of music is really poorer without him.

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
23
2009

What makes the ‘Ayatollahs’ so powerful ?

Posted by

It requires decades of serious learning and hardships to reach to the position of Ayatollah. There are seminaries in Iraq, Iran and Syria where the Shia Knowledge Seekers and students are taught, patronised and polished.

RITUALS, RHETORIC and dramatisations are the salient characteristics of the might rulers. The ‘Ayatollahs’ employ none. They don’t visit world capitals; they welcome no salutations and no ‘guards of honour’ and sit on the ordinary tattered mat that you can find in the poorest house holds. However, when Ayatollah Khomeni gives a clarion call of rebellion, the crown and scepter of mighty Arya Meher Shanshah Raza Pehelvi go to dust. When Ayatollah Sheestani speaks from his hovel in Iraq, his every word is analysed with utmost care in the most powerful capitals of the world. What makes these Ayatollahs so powerful?

We can’t understand this enigma without an understanding of the theological principles of SHIA religion. According to Ithna Ashri (believers in 12 Imams) Shia belief, whoever dies without following an Imam (Religious Jurist) dies in ignorance. Living Imam is not visible and God has put him beyond the visual reach of ordinary human being. He guides through his ‘spiritual agents’ and ‘Ayatollahs’ are those revered agents or representatives. It requires decades of serious learning and hardships to reach to the position of Ayatollah. There are seminaries in Iraq, Iran and recently in Syria also where the Shia Knowledge Seekers and students are attracted, taught, patronised and polished to begin their upward journey towards religious perfection as guides. These seminaries are known as ‘Hawazat Ilmiyyah’ where Islamic Jurisprudence, Quranic Explications, Philosophy, Sufism, History, Mathematics and Islamic Sciences are taught. These seminaries are headed by Ayatollahs. No formal degrees, certificates or licenses are awarded to students. Emphasis is laid in developing the student’s research skills and mental capacities on increasing the cultural, juridical and philosophical information. An attitude in inculcated for scientific and political approach. These seminaries are located in Najaf, Samaraa, Baghdad and Karbala in Iraq, and in Qum and Mashad in Iran.

After few years of learning if the Ayatollah feels a student fit as beginner he is called the Molvi, Moulana or Mulla.

Maturing after the first rank, he goes the higher stage of learning and it is known as ‘Ijtihad’ and he become as ‘Mujtahid’. Next position is ‘Hujjat Al-Islam’. Then he climbs to the pedestal of ‘Hujjat Al-Islam wa Muslimeen’. As the learning proceeds he becomes an ‘Authoritative Source’ or ‘Ayatollah’. There after he is last authority of Shias – The Grand Ayatollah or ‘Ayatollah al Uzma’.

The financial support for these seminaries comes from every Shia household who can afford and from every country where he resides. It is the most powerful institution of Shia Jurisprudence. The nominated sources or ‘Nayabs’ of these Ayatollahs are present in every country where there is a reasonable population of Shias exists. They collect Zakah, the obligatory charity and ‘Khums’ which is a fifth of total saving of the year. They do distribute that money in their own country also for the welfare of their people. According to Shia doctrine ‘Khums’ is mentioned in Quran and allocated to Prophet during his life time and to his kith and kin after him.

According to Sunni Doctrine, the right of a fifth of saving was only related to spoils of war and lost effect by the Prophet’s death.

The money collected as KHUMS had always been the prominent source of strength of Shia Clergy. It makes Shia priest richer by degrees and independent of any ruler who could interfere in religious affairs. In all matters to religion the decree of Ayatollah al Uzma runs supreme. It is the base of the ‘Theory of Clerical Rule’ or ‘Guardianship of the Jurist’. This Guardianship implies that every public act of Islamic government require a pre-permission or approval of Ayatollah before being done. State derives its legitimacy from being under the ‘Supervision’ of Jurist Guardian – the Ayatollah al Uzma.

 

 

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
22
2009

A tribute to father on Father’s Day

Posted by

On this Father’s Day, the author, here has given a tribute to his father, who despite all his financial and social problems never complained. Who Kept the family going in tough times and finally gave up his life for family’s well being…

MY FATHER was an ordinary man. He was neither a prodigy of piety, virtue and gentility nor a villain by any means. However, as I remember him, he was a conscientious, faithful, sagacious, sincere and honourable man.

He was a Zamindar till the Iron Man of India Sardar Patel abolished ‘Zamindari System’ with one stroke of pen and made my father an ex-Zamindar and brought him on the road. My grandfather, as the people and old town chronicles say, was a Taluqdar (a feudal lord), who owned orchards and fields so vast their farthest limits would melt into the sky. All those proverbial pelf and riches were reduced to realities and confounded into the Bermuda Triangle of loving relatives and friends of our family, who were strangers after a little while.

He never complained; never gave us details lest it would spoil the future relationships and never talked about the family deceits. There has always been a nonchalant silence in his dealings. Life was tough and demanding as means of livelihood were drying up and cluster of four hens and a goat were left with my mother to claim as her moving assets. My father was a born aristocrat and no profession other than ICS officer could have hanged gracefully round his stiff neck. He had no experience out side the domain of feudal system.

We were, seven of us all, were too young and the arrival of eight member of the family announced a tumultuous storm that shook the edifice of the family to its roots. There was no money to pay to the mid-wife, the local aaya, for the service she had rendered in the delivery of my new sister.

We were accustomed to the gloom of poverty and impecuniousness and we had never dreamed the snowy mountains tops of luxury in the distant horizon. If ever we saw, we saw a fleeting smile but not a laugh on our mother’s face. Now, as weakness was catching on, her body, after the childbirth needed nutrition. New baby needed diapers and soaps to clean. All those expenses accrued together and the sense of honour of my father refused him to ask any help from relatives.

He made the fatal decision to sell the goat, which was the main source of sustenance for the family along with the four quacking reddish – yellowish hens.

With tears welling in every eye, pats on the rear and kisses on the horn and muzzle we said good-bye to the goat we lovingly called Bakri-Ammi. She was till that moment was an integral part of our family. Baba left with the goat leashed in his trembling hands for the Animal Bazar. We all watch the spoor helplessly. This farewell might have been a photo opportunity for animal lovers to immortalise for posterity. There was an eerie silence in the house after the father left – not even the youngest sister did cry.

After a few agonising hours father came back from the animal market – not on his legs but on the shoulders of strangers. An ominous crowd of noisy and lamenting worried town folk barged into our house. They informed us that father had met some kind of silent collapse, while handing over the goat to the butcher, who was, at present, also looking at us with a curious pain and sorrow. They put his body on the empty cot. A chapter of family history was closed. Here was a weather beaten man, a man who was, as some old relatives say, once was a dynamo of gaiety and wit and humor. To us he was not a strong traveler as he left us behind to meet the sunrise with a new misery and sunset with a new challenge.

The new captain of the ship, my mother, on whose face we never saw a ringing mirth, took us successfully through the journey of life. She was a realist and optimist and recompensed for the absence of the father.

No love, no friendship and no act of kindness cross the path of our destiny without its marks. Baba, you are no more but you have left an imprint on our heart and your presence in our soul. We love you baba forever.

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
21
2009

The shoe-keeper at Mehrauli

Posted by

At a low moment in his life, a father takes comfort in the lessons of history that his children had playfully discussed.

“DO YOU know what Gen Grant said to Gen Lee when the later surrendered during the American Civil War?,” asked Junaid, the eldest of his three siblings. He was testing the general knowledge of his younger sister and brother.

“He said – War is a strange game where the best warriors lose,” Sayeeda replied back proudly.

“It is not exactly what he said!” Junaid said, trying to assert his supremacy.
“It may not be exactly what he said but it was exactly what he meant,” replied Sayeeda who was confident of her reply.
Abid, the youngest, was amused by this exchange. He, all of 8 years, decide it was his turn to demonstrate his manhood by flaunting his IQ and he fired a question his teacher had asked in school two days back. “Do you know what Porus had said to Sikandar when Porus was defeated in the battlefield and Sikandar asked him – “What treatment do you expect from me when you have lost?” Both the elder kids exhaled in unison: “A treatment which a victor emperor thinks fit for the vanquished king.”
Father was enjoying this vibrant exchange from behind the curtain and mother was proud at this demonstration of her kid’s intelligence.

The children were soon aware of their father’s presence and they cried with joy “Daddy is back, Mama. Dad is back from work.”

The usual exchange of queries and answers followed as the father emerged on the scene.
Abid asked, “Dad, have you ever see a vanquished soldier?”
“No son, this is no longer the era of conventional wars. I had seen the coffins of the martyrs only.” As the subject turned serious and dreary, nothing more was said on this topic.Days and nights went by in the same pleasant rhythm. The family could have lived the common life of happiness had the pink slip not appeared on the father’s desk one day.

For long, he had a very good job. It was steady, safe and secure. He used to attend many seminars and lectures; he used to go on company sponsored tours and visits, national and international.A bolt from the blue came when the big corporations and banks across the world began to collapse. A time that had began with pleasant certainties seemed to be turning into the darkest evening. That day he returned home a  different man. That day, he believed he had an answer to the last question asked by Abid.He thought he might have said, “I have not seen a vanquished soldier but look at your dad today and you can see what you were looking for.” He was imagining how Gen Lee or Raja Porus must have felt when they returned home to face their wives after defeat. Everyone has to fight his own kind of battle and everyone has to bear his own cross. He was a modern day Lee and Porus welded into one.

Instead of going home he went to the dargah at Mehrauli. It was a place that had seen the rise and fall of many dynasties; it was the place where the last Mughal emperor Bhahdur Shah Zafar wanted to come after his throne was thrown into the dust. It was the place where Prithivi Raj Chauhan had meted eighteen defeats to Mohammed Gori. It seems that when nothing else can console, history takes you in its lap. You sleep while you are awake. As he entered the gate of the dargah, the shoe-keeper asked him to hand over his shoes. When he checked his pocket for change, he realized that he had forgotten his purse in the company toilet.

Resigned to fate, dejected and disappointed, he told the shoe-keeper,”I have no money to give today. Let my shoes be there. No one will take them.”
“Whoever has taken your money from you will also arrange for the removal of your shoes. Give them to me. I shall keep them for you. I am not asking you for money,” Reluctantly he agreed. He spent some time inside the dargah. He emerged from the dargah relieved, and the shoe-keeper welcomed him with a broad smile.

“Listen brother, you might have been a poor man when you entered this gate. You are a rich man now. You went with faith and hope. As long as you hope there is a possibility of better life. Hope is the antidote against cynicism, fear, apathy and malaise. Have you not had any faith you wouldn’t have come here.”
Suddenly there was a ring from his mobile. The call was from his boss.
“We are sorry for the letter we had issued this morning. Come back tomorrow and resume your duty. Your purse is lying in my office. Have a nice evening.”

 

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
18
2009

Surraiya – You can’t be oblivious to her golden voice

Posted by

 

Suraiya

Suraiya

Surraiya Jamal Sheikh – a dark plain looking girl whose voice tickles the memories and an actress who left her indelible imprints on our mental screens. She was the most graceful and best dressed lady of yester years’ silver screen.

SURRAIYA – A name that needs no introduction, a voice that tickles the memories, an actress that left her indelible imprints on the mental screen and a graceful deity.

Imagine a soft transparent evening, sitting alone in a pensive mood in the abstract silence of your apartment, watching the yonder sunset; a twittering bird hopping aimlessly on the branches of gold showering Amaltas and suddenly she is disturbed. She pulls herself together and sits silently outside your window. Down below, the bhaiya (brother) who was ironing the school dress puts on the radio and it plays: ‘socha tha kya, kya ho gaya….’ You know – Malika Surraiya is there, behind this magic, with her restrained emotive best from the filmAnmol Ghari. You become nostalgic; you yearn for something; you long for something; you miss something and you remember something.

Surraiya Jamal Sheikh – a dark plain looking girl, the only child of her parents from Gujranwala, Punjab (now in Pakistan). She was born on June 15, 1929.

Well versed in Persian and educated at Girls Night School in Bombay, she was introduced to film world by her uncle Zahoor, himself a popular villain and actor of his time. He took her to Mohan Studio, Andheri to see the shooting of  Taj Mahal to be directed by Nanubhai Vakil. The director looked at her and gave her a break as heroine of Taj Mahal without screen test.Naushad heard her at a Children’s programme at All India Radio and introduced her as a singer inSharda in 1942.

Very few know that she was not a trained singer from any gharana. Mehboob Khan spotted her talents and presented her as heroine in his classical films: Anmol Ghari (1945) and Dard (1946).KL Saigal took her fancy and recommended her for Tadbeer in 1945. He worked with her in Omar Khayyam in 1946.Surraiya had her most critical learning time with Sajjad Hussain, the elusive and eccentric music maestro who had given the polish to Noor Jehan’s singing style and Lata Manegeshkar had always referred him as her loving masterji who had taught Lata how to breathe during singing. He taught her how to make the correct pronunciations of Urdu words.Man mor hua matwala… the unforgettable song of Afsar still retains its freshness as it were the first day it was sung.

1947 to 52, was the golden period of her life. Noor Jehan and Khursheed Banu had left for Pakistan, Lata was still coming out of the tunes of Noor Jehan and Surriaya was reining supreme as highest paid actress and singer of Bollywood.

She was an empress who did never allowed her subjects to touch her feet or come closer. Dev Anand was the only lucky man upon earth who had the access and as the story goes, offered her the ring. That ring was thrown into the sea of Marine Drive at the instruction of her grand-mother. Surraiya never allowed anyone to talk upon her personal life. She rarely attended the film parties and never gave interviews. She never married.

She was the most graceful and best dressed lady of the silver screen. According to the film critics of yester years, no one had a best taste and connoisseur of jewellery than her. She was a very lonely, aloof and private character – just out of the Dicken’s novel.

She maintained a safer distance as she died a lonely death in her palatial apartment at Marine Line on January 31, 2004, defining silently the rigid space even in her death.

 

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
16
2009

Iran: The Bermuda Triangle of US policies

Posted by

Iran is not a country of backward fanatics but a modern nation with 70 million people tightly sitting on top of world’s richest energy resources. Ahmadinejad is a courageous leader who had demonstrated his grit against the narrow partisanship of West IN THE aftermath of Iranian presidential elections, there are sporadic street protests and some youth are coming out against Nejad. West is cautiously busy in exaggerating the magnitude of these symptoms of discontent. Ironically, they hold no sway or say in Iranian affaires as their persistent support to anti-clergy-fifth columnists had completely isolated them and they have lost touch with the realities of present day Iran. They forgot that Iran is is one the oldest civilisations of the world. It is not a country of backward fanatics but a modern nation with 70 million people tightly sitting on top world richest energy resources.

Courage, integrity, confidence, enthusiasm, vision and effective communication are the most sought after qualities in a leader. Irrespective of Western and Israeli’s propaganda, most the Iranians and Non-Aligned masses in the world consider President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad a courageous leader who had demonstrated his grit against the narrow partisanship of West and its blind, insensitive and misplaced support for Israel. He is the leader of the masses and darling of the guiding clergy of Iran. According to the Article 113 of ‘Constitution of Iran’, he belongs to the supreme leader of Iran Ayatullah Ali Khamenai. The West had never tried to peep into this somewhat complicated politico-religious hierarchy of Iran.

They passed their judgments carelessly just upon the casual smattering of the system. They failed to understand the subtle difference between the rudderless, majority- is-always-right western democratic concepts and the guided-disciplined-principled-democracy that Iran is today. President Ahmedenejad claims that Iranian nuclear programme is for electricity generation and not for nuclear weapon’s development. Under his leadership, he refuses to end the nuclear enrichment despite United Nation Security Council’s resolution calling it to do. He argues that sanctions imposed by West over Iran’s nuclear enrichment are illegal and that Iran will continue to abide by ‘International Atomic Energy Agency’ monitoring of its nuclear programme.

It is difficult to swallow the paradox that Israel, a country, which has usurped the Palestinian lands, a country which had from day one ignored all resolutions of United Nations and had committed worst offenses of human rights violations, is a civilised country and has every right to maintain the largest nuclear arsenal and no other country outside the elite club can dare to sneak into their domain.

There are two statements, which are attributed to him, “Wipe Israel off the map” and “the holocaust is a myth.” According to President Nejad, these statements were made in Persian and their transliteration is incorrect.

Noone in the West bothered to listen and give currency to the clarification he made: “No, I am not against Jews, I respect them very much. I’m not saying that the holocaust didn’t happen at all. This is not the judgment I am passing here.”He is a man of steely resolve who could break but won’t bend.It is also not the first time that this West fomented protest brouhaha in Iran is taking place. Way back in 1953, when the ‘Anglo Iranian Oil Company’, now ‘British Petroleum’, was refusing to share its financial records with Iranian government as it was fleecing the country’s oil wealth, the democratically elected government of Prime Minister Mossedeq nationalised it.

An operation code named ‘Operation Ajax’ was hatched in American embassy in Tehran to destabilise the government. The plan failed and the tyrant ruler of Iran – Raza Shah Pehelwi fled to Italy. The West didn’t give up and again conspired against Mosaddq and finally affected the collapse of democracy. The Shah was brought back from exile. Weds of money had been spent to orchestrate the protests and long marches against Prime Minister Mosaddeq at that time. That is how these so-called defenders of democracy fared in Iran.

“You have no right to complain, because you took our whole country hostage in 1953,” said one of the hostage takers to Bruce Laingen, the chief US diplomat in Iran at that time. He was referring the US backed coup against the democratically elected government of Prime Minister Mossadeq.

The present protests would lose their pitch shortly as they are neither based on reason nor facts. Friendship between Iran and US would enhance American prestige in the world, which had been tarnished during the darkest days of Bush. President Obama knows that by and large world listens to what Iran says and he has to lend his ears if he really wants peace.

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
16
2009

Place for NRIs in parliament

Posted by

The problems of non-resident Indians, include poor work and living conditions, which are at times worse than that of those who spend their life on the footpaths of Mumbai.

HAVING SPENT more than two decades of my life in the West and the Middle East, I have had first-hand experience of the problems and aspirations of non-resident Indians (NRIs). Believe me it is never an easy life. You can divide NRIs into two broad categories. There is the creamy layer: the highly-educated and well-paid executives and businessmen, both in the West and the Middle East, who live in the lap of luxury by dint of their abilities and qualifications. Their problems centere on money transfer, purchase of real estate, setting up factories and businesses, and sometimes legal problems and sometimes even adoption. However, aside from their imperious airs and attitudes, they also face racial discrimination and insults in their adopted countries. Back home, their relatives and their government consider them treasure-troves.

There is another lot of NRIs – the hapless, less-educated and helpless souls you may call ‘indentured labour’ or ‘contract labour’ who drudge through their lives in these Gulf countries. Death is never pretty but when it visits an expatriate in the Gulf, it is one hell. No one knows when the body will be cleared by authorities; when it will be out of the mortuary and when it will be buried or sent back. Let the readers know that at least half a dozen Indians die in the Gulf every week.

There are many who are never paid on time and live in the worst possible conditions that would be beyond the imagination of even a person roughing it up on the foot-paths of Mumbai. Even sending home the money he earns, is a nightmare as there are long lines at money transfer counters. Many times the drafts are lost in post and everyone back home suffers. His job is based on the whims of the all-powerful Kafil or sponsor. He can be met with the worst of humiliations which he must stoically bear as embassy staff are usually beyond approach and indifferent. Even sickness is a dreadful challenge.

Those who are in between the creamy layer and underdogs face a different set of problems. Their kids are discriminated back home and admissions are an uphill and almost impossible task. They are fleeced in the name of a legal NRI quota and exploited at every front. There are a number of women workers employed as house-maids and nurses. A plethora of tales can be gathered and epics could be written about the miseries and hardship they face in alien lands. They are sometimes even pushed into prostitution.

The rehabilitation of NRIs is another serious issue as this simple pardesi loses touch with the ground realities of India – the Indian way of life and Indian way of communication. There are always cheats awaiting him right from the airport to his neighbourhood. Let the countrymen know that 90 per cent of total foreign direct investment comes from 20 million NRIs whose economic production equals that of one billion Indians. These unsung heroes of the Indian economy should be given their due representation in parliament as one way of assisting them in facing the problems I have mentioned above. I apologize to those expatriates whose problems I have failed to mention here.

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
13
2009

A cynic has nothing better to do

Posted by

Cynics are also masters of sarcasm. They expect you to laugh with them when they poke fun at you. If you don’t they feel you have no sense of humour. They are competent to find fault in everything and everyone.

“A GOOD friend is indeed an asset; a bad companion is a recurring liability.” Take care when you pick up your friend! There are people who excel the art of criticism; there are people who can pick hole in every velvet; there are people who didn’t agree the way you cried when your loved one died and there are people who won’t forgive the way you laugh.

They are competent to find fault in everything and everyone. Present them a mini-replica of Taj Mahal and they would say: “It doesn’t inspire the same love as the real one.” Offer them a rose and they would ignore it and brag about the fragrance of lavender. Tell them you like Dilip Kumar and they would say that Guru Datt was a better actor.

These cynics could be so pervasive that they would quench the optimist in the dull gray clouds of suspicion. They have a keen sense where to stick the knife; they would scorn and berate people without intention or purpose and obviously they lack direction.

Cynics are also masters of sarcasm. They expect you to laugh with them when they poke fun at you. If you don’t they feel you have no sense of humour.

We can’t totally avoid such people. They could prop up as your boss, your subordinate or your colleague; may be your wife or girl friend if you had been insane enough. We may have to accept them how they are and give up the attempts to change them beyond a certain limit. At times cynicism is deadly and infectious. A highly charged cynic can transform a wedding celebration into a “zone of silence” or even into a “tower of silence.”

There had been cynics in the field of art and literature also.

Algernon Swinburne, a famous English poet of 18th century was infuriated when Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote him ‘a literary leper and a mere sodomite’. The intense and vitriolic reply of Swinburne is preserved in the archives of English literature:

“ I… am not sufficiently expert in the dialect of the cesspool and dung cart to retort in their own kind on these venerable gentleman – I, whose ears and lips alike are unused to the amenities of conversation embroiled with such fragments of flowery rhetoric as may be fished up by the congenial tongues out of the sewage of Sodom……..”

To diffuse the cynicism and defeat their negativity we have to stand firmly to these bullies, showing concerns for gripers and communicating with them assertively.

We should and must protect ourselves from negativity. We can influence and bring a little bit change in them with little patience and resolve; with acts of compassions, love and kindness. A bully is a bully because he is afraid. Love is letting go for fear.

Best is to keep the cynic at arms length.

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts

Jun
11
2009

Habib Tanvir: The soul of Indian theater

Posted by
Habib-Tanvir

Habib-Tanvir

Habib Tanvir was one of the most popular Hindi playwrights, a theatre director, poet and actor. He is the writer of plays such as, Agra Bazar (1954) and Charandas Chor. He is most known for his work with Chhattisgarhi tribals, at the Naya Theatre.

THINK OF Indian theatre and culture, the very first image that immediately conjures up is Habib Tanvir. He was a trail blazer, a pioneer in Hindi theatre. Like Gandhi Ji, for him the real theatre existed in villages.

He started his literary career as a poet with a pen-name “Tanvir” and very soon graduated as full time playwright, director and actor. He loved challenges and difficulties and succeeded in overcoming them. Born on Sept 1, 1923, in Raipur (Bihar at that time) he did his BA from Morris college Nagpur in 1944, and MA from Aligarh Muslim University.

His uncle used to stay in the interior of the Bihar and his regular visits to them brought him near to country folks which fascinated him. In 1945, he moved to Bombay and joined All India Radio (AIR) Bombay as a producer, while in Bombay, he wrote songs for Hindi films and even acted in a few. He also joined the Progressive Writers’ Association (PWA) and became an integral part of Indian people’s Theatre Association (IPTA) as an actor.

He moved to Delhi and joined with Qudsia Zaidi’s “Hindustani Theatre.” This was one of the most important periods of his life. He met Moneeka Mishra, an upcoming actor-director, whom he was to later marry. The same year he produced the hall mark drama “Agra Bazar”. It was based on the works of 18 century writer Nazir Akbarabadi. In this play he used the raw talents from the Okhla village and student of Jamia Millia Islamia. It was a unique experiment is the sense that it was staged within the four walls of a hall but in market place, open bazaar. It was a great success and inspired him to experience further with Chattisgarh folk artists. “Chanrandas Chor” was one such adventure where the highlight was the Nach – A chorus, a narration through Chattisgarhi folk songs.

His theatre has always been known for its utter simplicity in style, presentation and technique. Despite all that austerity his plays were eloquent and powerful with a deep story line. One could see the progressive glimpses of European fads intelligently blended with Indian values in his experiments. He was trained in Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London in middle fifties.

In 1990 he took up the direction of “Zahreele Hawa” based on Bhopal Gas tragedy.

He had his share of controversies as RSS and BJP didn’t spare a secular Indian artist like him from roughing up for his “Ponga Pandit.”

The doyen of Indian theatre died on 8 th June 2009 after a brief illness and the world of theatre lost a worthy son.

Naim Naqvi

Naim Naqvi

Did his graduation in Science discipline from AMU in 1972-73. He was Secretary of University Ali Society in 1970 and M.M. Hall Literary Society in early 70 's and member of Tayyabji Literary Society. Did his Diploma in Bakery Administration from HTT College Oxford Street London in 1987. Worked with National Herald - Delhi, Blitz - Bombay as Trainee Journalist and in Production Department with 'Naya Sansar Pictures' of Khwaja Ahmed Abbas at Bombay in early 70's. Traveled for study and training purposes to Germany, U.K., Switzerland, France, Dubai, Oman, AbuDhabi, Bahrain and Philepines.

More Posts