Sir Syed Ahmed Khan – A Gift of God

Sir Syed Ahmed Khan was born on 17 October 1817 in Delhi when the Moghul Empire’s has begun to decline. Sir Syed’s father, Mir Muhammad Muttaqi, was the personal adviser of Akbar Shah II (reign: 1806–1837), one of the last Mughal emperors of India. At the time of Sir Syed’s birth, the grand Mughal empire had shrunk within the territory of Delhi that included little outside areas also. A known proverb of the time was – “Saltanat-e-Shah Alam, Az Delhi ta Palam.” The rein of Shah Alam, the emperor is from Delhi to Palam. Bahadur Shah Zafar, the last Mughal emperor was a nominal king and India had literally become a British subject.

There are warriors, scholars and politicians to boast on record but the Muslim community in India has no one to match the vision and selfless devotion of Sir Syed Ahmed Khan. He was a social reformer, an educationist, a statesman and the most important voice among Indian Muslims of the latter half of the 19th century.
Today, we are suffering from a drought of statesmen and there is a flood of politicians. A politician follows the crowd; a politician debates the cost of a plan but a statesman questions the wisdom of the plan. A politician tells his constituents what he did for them. A statesman doesn’t worry about what he can do for his constituents, because he’s too busy trying to guarantee a future for his constituent’s grandchildren.

With the pathetic collapse of Mutiny 1857, the Muslim Power in the Indian subcontinent had almost eclipsed. The year marked the formal end of the remnants of central Muslim rule in India. Sir Syed was intellectual and historian also who studied the reason of Muslim’s fall and produced an objective analysis in form of a book Asbab-e-Baghawat-e-Hind (The Causes of the Indian Revolt) in 1859. In his work he blamed point blank the British for their policies of aggressive territorial ambitions. He boldly stated that the Colonial rulers had little knowledge about the sensitivities of Indian culture and traditions. Initially the rulers didn’t take the book kindly but were compelled to look it in the positive spirit once the deep contents were appreciated in England also.

Sir Syed’s father had died in 1938 and he had to join the British Civil Service as means of livelihood. No jobs were available at the Moghul court. He became a munshi, and in 1858 he was promoted as a senior official at the Moradabad court. His first step in the service of his community was the founding of a modern madrassa in 1859 in Moradabad. It was a unique religious school that had scientific education as part of its curriculum.
In 1864, he was transferred to Aligarh and there he founded the Scientific Society of Aligarh. It was modelled after the Royal Society and Royal Asiatic Society to introduce the Western science and technology to orthodox Muslim society of India. In 1869 Sir Syed visited England and was deeply impressed by the traditions of learning in great institutions of Oxford and Cambridge. On his return to India he set up a modern school in Aligarh and laid the foundation of the Muhammadan Anglo-Oriental College in May 1875. The college later became the Aligarh Muslim University.

Sir Syed had realized that the feelings of hate against British were harming the general interests of Muslim Community. Muslims were unwilling to learn English and they were lagging behind their countrymen in every sphere. He took it upon himself to fill the gap between the British and the Muslim community. There was a need for reforms if Muslim community had to progress. Particular emphasis on education was sine qua non. Sir Syed’s greatest gift to his community was his emphasis on education.

It is the fact of history that Sir Syed was critical of Indian National Congress. He was afraid that Muslims would be marginalized in country life if they joined Congress. In one his lectures he strongly exhorted his community in these words:

“When you (Muslims) shall have fully acquired education, and true education shall have made its home in your hearts, then you will know what rights you can legitimately demand of the British Government. And the result of this will be that you will also obtain honorable positions in the Government, and will acquire wealth in the higher ranks of trade.”

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.

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Racial Pride vs Racial Blindness

“Garve se kaho hum Hindu hain”, Say with pride I’m a Hindu – was a slogan that was given currency by RSS in 2006. I can’t recall if it really worked their way and attracted some more votes for BJP in past. All the same, it was a slogan I really liked. It still resonates well in my memory. I respect my Hindu friends who are proud to be Hindu. And with a nuance, with a subtle difference, I’m also proud to be a ‘Hindi’. When I asked some of my well-informed and well-meaning Muslim, Christian and Parsi friends about this RSS slogan GSKHHH, they affected ignorance; they were neutral and some rather enjoyed the tone of call.
For the new reader of my pen, I’m a practicing, middle class Muslim who has rarely faced any personal discrimination of sorts ever at any station of my life. Wherever, I failed, it happened on merit and didn’t afford much chance to complain about my position in life. Unfortunately, I can’t say the same for many of my brothers with the same confidence and conviction. In fact, since the formative years of Independent India, my community as a cohesive whole, is facing discrimination and it is the festering wound on Indian democracy. We have faced genocide; our language and culture was decimated. We are facing hate that is written not on paper but in every act that takes away our due rights in the progress of country. Today, with the exception of 3 or 4 private companies, 14 per cent of Indian population with a Muslim tag can’t claim a national presence. We are at the bottom of all government services. The only saving grace are Khans of film industry. List of grievances is long and not relevant to support this article. The pertinent questions here are – Are we a racial society and racism is rampant here? As minority do we feel oppressed? Is racism that bad?
The history of the dominant world civilizations reveals that they reached the pinnacle of glories when they were practicing RACISM, often negative racism. It didn’t stop them from shaping the course of history. Their warriors were proud of their kings, regions, races and traditions. Their farmers were producing most, their artisans were at their creative best and their scientist and technologists were churning out monumental researches and inventions. For them life was smooth rather cozy. It was roses roses all the way. I also cannot help but feel with some understanding of their grim pride of their accomplishments. So, when a German pot valiant food technologist on Dutch courage, at Dachau – the biggest Nazi Camp city in Bavaria, thumping the table near the beer-fountain declared to me – “We’re the best; we were the best and would remain so even though we still have a large number of ..you know,, among us. My people had accomplished a great deal.” He smiled and concluded with,”……..Good and ill”. I knew what he meant.
Honestly, whenever any man of any race claims proud at the achievement for his people, I support him. However, I always go for a rider – let us move past the age when a race accomplished something, add a new dimension of nation instead of ethnicity. I am looking forward to the day when even those tricky provocative lines have been erased, when the entire human race has brought all the world’s nations into one power – the power of sanity, the spirit of Universal Brotherhood. We begin to care for humanity as one race.
But so long as these divisions exist, we carry that grim pride of race and religion with us both as a comfort and a warning. Till the realization of dream, I can’t detach myself from my past. I do feel proud about the accomplishments of your ancestors and mine.
All races attribute a lot of what they are to their unique culture, religion, traditions and style of living. A recent study undertaken by ‘AFRICANGLOBE’ revealed that African American teenagers performed better academically when their parents instilled in them a sense of racial pride. ‘Racial Pride’ is a positive inspiration while ‘Race Blindness’ instigated shunning, promotes hate, mistrust and discrimination. Race blindness encourages negative peer treatment that results in getting into fights, being bullied and affliction of lasting psychic wounds.
The study is concluded with the empirical evidence that the longstanding practice in the African American community of cultivating racial pride and preparing children to face racial bias in society should be considered among appropriate and beneficial practices in parenting Black children.
The study was supported by a grant from the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development.

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.

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The Brief History of Hazrat Syed Sharafuddin Shahwilayat

Let this scribe make a confession: He is no authority upon the subject – ‘Life and Events of Syed Hussain Sharafuddin Shahwilayat’. He is neither a historian nor a scholar chronicler or a very strong devotee of any cult or tradition. This article is simply based upon some folk stories, magazines, books, stray observations, cluttered thoughts and last but not least – some figments of unintended imagination. The reader is free to accept, reject, condemn and challenge any content of it at his own standards of merit and knowledge.

Before I describe the brief history of the Saint Sharafuddin Shahwilayat I feel it would be justified if I share few thoughts about Tasawwuf which could be simply described as the traditional Islamic science of self-improvement and spirituality. It is related to Sufism and defines our relationship with Allah. According to Moulana Ashraf Ali Thanwi – Many people have misunderstandings about tasawwuf. Many think that it is something beyond the Qur’an and Sunnah. Errant Sufis as well as the superficial ulema, although on the opposite ends of the spectrum, are together in holding this mistaken notion.

Consequently the first group has shunned the Qur’an and Hadith while the second group has shunned tasawwuf. Actually, although the term tasawwuf, like many other religious terms in use today, evolved later, the discipline is very much part of the Shariah. The department of the Shariah relating to external deeds like salat and zakat is called fiqh while the one dealing with the internal feelings and states of the heart is called tasawwuf. Both are commanded in the Qur’an. Thus while commanding Salat and Zakat, the Qur’an also commands gratefulness and love of Allah and condemns the evil of pride and vanity. Similarly, in the books of hadith, along with the chapters on Ibadat, trade and commerce, marriage and divorce, are to be found the chapters on riya’ (show off) takabbur, akhlaq, etc. These commands are as much a mandatory requirement as the ones dealing with external deeds. Its focus is tahzeebe akhlaq or the adornment of character; its motive is the attainment of Divine pleasure; its method is total obedience to the commands of the Shariah.

Sufism traces its origin precepts to Hazarat Mohammed (PBUH) through his cousin and son-in-law, first Imam and 4th Caliph of Islam Hazrat Ali (KAW). There is only one connection ‘Naqshbandiya’ which claims its origin to Hazrat Abu Bakar, the 1st Caliph of Islam. According to great Iranian scholar Abu Rayhan Albiruni, the ‘Sufi’ word is derived from the Greek word ‘Sofia’ meaning wisdom. The Sufi practiced asceticism and shunned the pomp and pursuit of pleasure flouted by Umayyad, Abbasi, Khilji and Toughlaq dynasties. They never preferred the company of feudal aristocrats for pleasure.

Today the picture of gun-totting terrorists, bombs and preachers-of-hate is in absolute contrast to the cool, inspiring, loving, smiling and reassuring images that conjure up when we remember Nund Reshi, Lalleshwar or Dehat Bibi, the saints of Kashmir Valley.

Pass through a cent per cent Non-Muslim locality and hark the melodious renditions of folk singers reciting:

“Chap tilak sab cheeni, baat ajab keh dini, mohe suhagan keenhi, monse nayna milayke…….”

(The eyes met and I gave up all the symbols of faith, my beloved spoke some enchanted words and made me a bride). You instantly knew the creator of these words – Ameer Khusrau.

Visit any dargah in your town when you feel exhausted and need some urgent peace of mind and the sacred ambience, the Qawaals will be there to welcome you with “Haideriyam Qalandram mastam, banda-ey Murtaza Ali hastam, Peshway tammam rindanam, ke sag-e-kooye-Yazdanam” (I’m a mendicant of Haider’s order, I’m a pure disciple of Ali Murtaza, who is the leader of all the Universe. I’m the dog of the lane of Mustafa (PBUH).)

Tasawwuf is the soul of Islam. Its function is to purify the heart from the lowly bestial attributes of lust, calamities of the tongue, anger, malice, jealousy, love of the world, love of fame, niggardliness, greed, ostentation, vanity, deception, etc. At the same time it aims at the adornment of the heart with the lofty attributes of repentance, perseverance and.

In India the concept of Tasawwuf is followed and practiced in different forms and different schools. They are not radically different from each and a subtle nuance of names categorizes them as beautiful branches of the same spiritual plant that shades over the schism that prevails  in basics of belief. I am giving below the most popular schools of Tasawwuf.

Chishtiyyah:

The Chishtiyya order emerged out of Central Asia and Persia. The first saint was Abu Ishaq Shami (d.940–41 A.D.) establishing the Chishti order in Chisti Sharif within Afghanistan. The notable saint Moinuddin Chisti (d. 1236 A.D.) has championed this order within India, making it one of the largest orders in India today. Scholars also mentioned that he had been a part-time disciple of Abu Najib Suhrawardi. Khwaja Moiuddin Chishti was originally from Sistan (eastern Iran, southwest Afghanistan) and grew up as a well traveled scholar to Central Asia, Middle East, and South Asia.[He reached Delhi in 1193 A.D. during the end of Ghurid reign, then shortly settled in Ajmer-Rajasthan when the Delhi Sultanate formed. Moinuddin Chishti’s Sufi and social welfare activities dubbed Ajmer the “nucleus for the Islamization of central and southern India.” The Chishti order formed KHANQAH to reach the local communities, thus helping Islam spread with charity work. Islam in India grew with the efforts of dervishes, not with violent bloodshed or forced conversion. Until this day, both Muslims and non-Muslims visit the famous tomb of Moinuddin Chishti; it has become even a popular tourist and pilgrimage destination. Jalaluddin Muhammad Akbar (d. 1605 A.D.), the 3rd Mughal ruler frequented Ajmer as a pilgrim, setting a tradition for his constituents. Successors of Khwaja Moinudden Chishti include eight additional saints; together, these names are considered the big eight of the medieval Chishtiyya order. Moinuddin Chisti (d. AD 1233 in Ajmer, India), Qutubuddin Bakhtiar Kaki (d. AD 1236 in Delhi, India), Fariduddin Ganjshakar (d. AD 1265 in Pakpattan,Pakistan), Nizamuddin Auliya (d. AD 1335 in Delhi), Nasiruddin Chiragh Dehalvi, Bande Nawaz (d. AD 1422 in Gulbarga, India), Akhi Siraj Aaine Hind (d. 1357 in Bengal India, Alaul Haq Pandavi and Ashraf Jahangir Semnani (d. AD 1386, Kichaucha India).

Suhrwardiyyah:

The founder of this order was Abdul-Wahir Abu Najib as-Suhrawardi (d. 1168 A.D.). He was actually a disciple of Ahmed Ghazali. The teachings of Ahmad Ghazali led to the formation of this order. This order was prominent in medieval Iran prior to Persian migrations into India during the Mongol Invasion. Consequently, it was Abu Najib as-Suhrawardi’s nephew that helped bring the Suhrawardiyyah to mainstream awareness.

Naqshbandiyyah

The origin of this order can be traced back to Khwaja Ya‘qub Yusuf al-Hamadani (d. 1390 A.D. ), who lived in Central Asia. It was later organized by Bahauddin Naqshband (b. 1318–1389 A.D.) of Tajik and Turkic background. He is widely referred to as the founder of the Naqshbandi order. Khwaja Muhammad al-Baqi Billah Berang (d. 1603 A.D.) introduced the Naqshbandiyyah to India. This order was particularly popular Mughal elites due to ancestral links to the founder, Khawja al-Hamadani. Babur, the founder of the Mughal dynasty in 1526 A.D., was already initiated in the Naqshbandi order prior to conquering India. This royal affiliation gave considerable impetus to the order.

Qadiriyyah

The Qadiriyyah order was founded by Abdul Qadir Gilani who was originally from Iran (d. 1166 A.D.).[ It is popular among the Muslims of South India. As a widespread order, the Qadiriyyah had a prominent sheikh in India. Muhammad Mayan Mir (d. 1635 A.D.) was a famous scholar known for significant non-Muslim tolerance and community service work. Worlds largest religious organisation Dawate-E-Islami also belongs to the Qadiriyyah order whose founder was Moulana Ilyas Qadri.

Sufism helped the assimilation of the Afghani Delhi Sultanate rulers within mainstream society. By building a syncretic medieval culture tolerant and appreciative of non-Muslims, they contributed to the growth of stability, vernacular literature, and devotional music in India. Literature related to monotheism and the Bhakti movement also formed syncretic influences in history during the Sultanate period. Sufi scholars traveling from all over continental Asia were instrumental in the social, economic, and philosophic development of India. Besides preaching in major cities and centers of intellectual thoughts, Sufis reached out to poor and marginalized rural communities and preached in local dialects such as Urdu, Sindhi, Panjabi versus Persian, Turkish, and Arabic. Their teachings of humanity, love for God and Prophet (PBUH) continue to be surrounded by mystical tales and folk songs today. Sufis were firm in abstaining from religious and communal conflict and strived to be peaceful elements of civil society. Furthermore, it is the attitude of accommodation, adaptation, piety, and charisma that continues to help Sufism remain as a pillar of mystical Islam in India.

The History of Hazarat Shahwilayat:

To begin with, very few history books are available in India now where he is mentioned in any form in relation to larger SUFI Movement of India. Perhaps, his father was shy of éclat and preferred the ascetic life of Amroha which was often referred as Qasba Azizpore in those days. He didn’t make Delhi or any royal city of his final abode. There is no provision of SAJJADA NASHEENI in his hierarchy that is so common and necessary in Sufi Schools. One can safely conclude that he had a limited spiritual domain and he loved the simple life of towns and villages.

He was the son of Mira Ali Buzurg who was a learned scholar. His mother’s name was ‘Umme Habeeba’ and she was the daughter of Syed Abdul Moueed Ali. Syed Jalaluddin Haider Surkh Posh, the famous saint of earlier Muslim Indian Sultanete, was the real brother of Bibi Umme Habiba.

The parents of Shahwilayat were direct descendents of Imam Ali al-Naqi al-Hadi (AS) – the 10 th Imam. Imam’s period coincides with the rule of Abbasids – AlWathiq and Al Mutawakkil. These rulers were jealous of Imam’s reverence, popularity an following among ordinary Muslims. He concocted excuses and called Imam from Medina and imprisoned him at Samrrah, Iraq. He achieved martyrdom on 3 rd Rajab 252 AH at the age of 42 years. He left behind five children:
1. Hazrat Imam Hasan (the 11 th Imam)
2. Hazrat Hussain
3. Hazrat Mohammed
4. Hazrat Jafar
5. Bibi Aisha

They migrated to the city of Sauda in Syria and from there to ‘Wasit’ a hamlet in Iraq. This town was established at the bank of River Dajla by Hajjaj Bin Yussuf in 83 AH. After a lapse of considerable time new designs of agriculture and water resources diverted water to other canals and waterways and it resulted in scarcity of water in the town. Political and Administrative frictions compounded and made life unbearable for the descending generations of Syeds of Abbasid Kingdom. Syed Mira Ali Buzurg had three sons and one daughter.
1. Syed Hasan
2. Syed Hussain Shahwilayat
3. Syed Mohammed
4. Bibi Umme Salema

Bibi Umme Salema and Syed Hasan died in childhood. In 662 AH, to avoid the persecution and tyranny of ruler they decided to leave their ancestral lands for the good and migrated to Bhakkar in Multan (now in Pakistan).

And according to many scholars, in the year of 670 AH, 2 nd Zil Hij (corresponding to Wed 29 th June 1272 AD) Hazrat Sharafuddin Shahwilayat, his father Syed Mira Ali Buzurg and his family along with many other members of his family group came to India via Multan and settled in Amroha. It was during the rule of Sultan Ghyasuddin Balban. However, some scholars disagree and claim that in 690 AH, during the rule of Sultan Jalaluddin Firoz Shah Khilji, the family landed in Amroha.

Boy Sharfuddin received his primary education Dars-e-Quarn and Hadith at home and his father was his mentor and tutor. As grown-up he was trained in spiritual disciplines by Syed Jalauddin, Syed Bahuddin – the father-in-law of Syed Jalauddin and Moulana Nasehuddin Suharwardi s / o Qazi Hameeduddin Nagori. The names of Saint Arif Suharwardi and Syed Usman Lal Shahbaz Qalander aka Jhulewala are included in the list of his teachers.

He was assigned the area between River Ganges and Kumayun Hills as his preaching spiritual domain by his spiritual guides. He followed the simple ascetic life and his message was universal love and respect. He was admired and received warmly by the people of all the faiths. The fame of his piety and erudition spread in all the four corners around Amroha.

The famous book of Amrohvi history ‘Tareekh-e-Wastiya’ describes Mohalla PACHDARA as the maiden nest for newly arrived family. He was married to Bibi Kaneez Fatima, the daughter of Syed Jalaluddin Bukhari and they had three children.
1. Syed Mir Ali Buzurg
2. Syed Abdul Aziz
3. Bibi Baqia-ut-tahirah aka Bibi Bakhuhi.

Bibi Bakhuhi was known for her piety,simplicity and devotion to prayers. The grave of Bibi comes your sight when you enter the gate of dargah.

There is no authentic record how long Hazrat Sharfuddin stayed in Amroha and then left for Kumyun Hills for meditation and prayers. His trip to Hills was meant to acquire knowledge and practice Riyazat, Chillakashi and special prayers. It was a sort of specialized spiritual training in splendid isolation. For this reason alone he was also called as PEER PAHARI – The Saint of Hills.

Some chronicles have mentioned about the trees he planted in the hills to support his place of meditation which was similar to MACHAN. He brought back those plants to Amroha when he returned. One of those plants survived and is still believed to be sheltering the shrine. He died on 21 Rajab 739 AH and was buried in Amroha.
He had also performed Haj and stayed in Mecca for 7 years. No dated of departure or arrival for Haj are available.

Syed Mohammed Abdal Dooda Dhari, a close relative of Shahwilayat was one of his appointed subordinate but Syed Sharafuddin instructed to discontinue the practice of baiyat and the system of succession was discarded forever in his lineage. Dooda Dhari Saheb died in 798 AH and all the sacred belongings of Hazrat Sharfuddin were buried with 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.

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Our TEHZEEB – Gone With The Wind

Life is not so short but that there is always time for courtesy.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

Life is a difficult journey. We can pass through it easily if we make it easy for others. We make it one hell for ourselves; thorny and rocky for others if we forget that everyone needs respect, love and admiration even if he / she doesn’t demand for it. Courtesy and politeness are the best attributes to make life more amenable and conducive to peaceful co-existence. Customs, conventions and manners are the expressions of mutual understanding, sharing and appreciation. These traits do not make life difficult as someone had said, “Etiquette rules are fancy stuff invented to make the rest of us feel stupid.” It is not true. Relationships of existence, whether close or distant, become more bearable in the difficult times if we adopt or follow the fundamental principle of mutual respect. Unfortunately, as we are climbing the ladder of material progress and growth while we are leaving the good manners as dispensable flotsam – something we could do without. Children do not respect their parent, students don’t respect their teacher, a subordinate doesn’t respect the boss and public no longer respect the leader. The vice-versa, so essential for smooth sailing is also true. We are giving up the prescription the basic rules of existence and subsistence in our daily routines. There is hardly any consideration for others. Proper manners came into being not artificially, but these were based on an authentic concern for the love and respect of others.

Why our social relations so shattered today? Watch out the lonely street or a crowded shopping mall, a railways compartment or a bus stop. Everyone is busy with his or her mobile. No one wants to talk face to face. We avoid each other. Why? Just because we need not very many good manners while we initiate or carry forward the dialogue on mobile. Good manners and normal courtesy have been disregarded as unnecessary and superfluous. The pillars of shared ethical and moral code of conduct are rendered useless like Morse Key and Telegraphic system.

In these times of fast life, Dellhi, Lucknow and Hyderabad, the cities once the citadels of culture and traditions have become an emaciated shadow of their past. Delhi – 6 is difficult to distinguish from Noida – 60. Where are all the old Delhi Walas disappeared no one knows. In Lucknow you have to visit the Imambarahs and museums if you are looking for the culture Nawabs had left. No more Ikke-wallas are there to welcome you in a style that once used to make you feel respectable and important in the hoary past when you came out the ‘Char Bagh Station.’ In Hyderabad, you have to wriggle out of the complex Telengana issue to reach out to someone who has time for you to talk in the original sweet Hyderabadi lingua franca.

Demanding ‘self-restraint’ is consideration for others : A courteous man is a man of refinement, a gentleman or lady considers for others at all times. A golden rule of the past which is sadly disregarded at present is to rise to one’s feet when a lady, a senior person or a dignitary enters a room. This was a sign of respect for age and rank. A simple gesture like this helped to instill in youth a respect for age, rank, and authority. It used to instill the self confidence in both. Anyone cares to do that ?

The laws of hospitality were the corner stone of our spiritual and social development. In them were the reflections of the wisdom of the ages. Today hospitality is overtaken by hostility. A young boy is not willing to vacate the seat for a senior citizen in the transport even if it is clearly reserved for him. A well-dressed man doesn’t want to get up from the ladies seat until the lady demands for it. The hostility, alienation, and vulgarity of the modern day is the direct output of our hedonistic approach to life – devoid of spirituality and reason. We are leaving behind the manners and etiquette that had profound meaning to make life easier and more bearable.

So, when in a beautiful winter morning I was enjoying my Nahari and Nan at Bismillah Hotel, Ballimaran, Dehi- 6, a young boy sneaked into my hitherto unoccupied opposite chair and checked politely, “Can I sit here.”
If a seat is empty your opposite no one would care to ask your permission in Delhi to sit there. It is always his birth right. The very enquiry was a pleasant surprise.“You’re welcome, tashreef rakhen Janab.”

The gentleman took the seat with a smile and fired his first salvo – “I’m a real original Delhi Wala and your nice SHERWANI has compelled me to share the table with you.”
I got a lurking fear that he might be a cheat, a poseur ready to go fast on me. However, without knowing what was there in store for me I replied politely that I was honored. I’d been an old Aligarian (an Old Student of Aligarh Muslim University) and Sherwani wass still the integral part of my dress.”

Before I move on my story, I must make a confession. Unfortunately, I’d never felt at home at Delhi. I feel uncomfortable with the supercilious, plastic, back-stabbing, nasty and self-reverential culture of Delhi or New Delhi. To me, Mumbai / Bombay has always been real, straight, practical and beautiful; to me Mumbai is the center of attraction of life, a land of honest, hard-working and no-nonsense inhabitants. Many ideas could never be justified. You just feel them, savor them as candy floss. Being away of my country had often made me home-sick, nostalgic and at times morose. So, while I may stay anywhere I always long to go back to Mumbai; I want to have my breakfast of Brun-Pao at a Sun Light Hotel in Colaba and lunch of Seekh Kabab at Byculla or Biryani at Olympia. I miss Barah Handi Paye of Bhindi Bazar, and Puorhits’ Thali at Churchgate. It would if be a grave injustice if I do not recall the nice food of Sher-e-Punjab at V.T. and Delhi Darbar at Faras Road. Bombay had been my KARAM BHOOMI and I love this city as I love my own existence.

To continue my story, I was enjoying the winter-brunch at Old Delhi, expecting nothing but an Urdu Akhbar and some solitude with good food. This gentleman was an unwanted intruder into my life.

“Mohatrum, may I dare to ask you a question?”
“Of course you could as long as it is not too personal.”
“Where did you get your Sherwani stitched?”
“At Bombay, Mohammed Ali Road….”
“Thanks for enlightening me. I thought we have the finest Sherwani tailors only in Aligarh and Delhi. Your’s is a masterpiece with nine buttons.”

Usually I’m a well dressed individually and deem it unnecessary to welcome the comments upon my attire. I always dress for myself and put on what I like irrespective of what others think of my dress. The saving grace is that none of my dependable friend or relative did ever report that my dress was improper for the occasion and anyone ever laughed at it.

My expressions were categorical in suggesting that I no longer enjoyed the continuity of discussion or his company. He got up from the seat with a ‘Khuda Hafiz’ and a genuine smile on his face he left.

I was wondering after his departure why he made a reference of nine buttons in my Sherwani. The close scrutiny of Sherwani revealed that the sequence of my buttons was wrong and I could have been an object of ridicule had I attended the meeting in that style. There was a funny pop in the middle with a wrongly placed button. The boy saved me a serious embarrassment without slighting or hurting my ego. That was the Delhi – 6 at its best. I put it right and was looking for the boy when I stepped into the street. It was a turning point that redefined my feeling and kindled the respect for Delhi.
I wish you a day filled with courtesy, flowing in grace, to you and from you!

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.

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Waqt ne kiya woh haseen sitam….

As the train trundled past the river bridge she looked beneath its parched dry bed. Once it was a gentle blue stream with its usual flora and fauna described in plenty of town chronicles. She  looked out at the same old tall black chimneys towering above the Sugar mill; piercing the sky; but they were silent today. The crushing season was long over. The air was steeped with the scent of molasses, still adhered to the slanted walls of open Catch Tanks. The Old green tomb of the Sufi near the railway tracks was appearing brighter now and a few devotees could be seen coming out from its sacred portals with caps on and sweets in the hands. Old banyan tree, at a distance, with the suspended beard entangled roots was there. It was surrounded with sprawling shanties and two-story houses. You could see its top parts at the horizon as the eagles floated. The panorama had the same old features but with a different cosmetics.

She craned out her neck from the compartment window when the deserted Signal Tower approached. With the introduction of electronic signal systems the tower had become redundant now. There was no signal guard smiling with a green flag and with a pride unknown. The Old Good’s Railway Yard had not changed much except the absence of green man-size grass that used to grow around it. And now the train floated slowly by the platform and finally came to a screeching halt. She was back in the town which had once defined her life. The place was still the same old but looking fresh.
For long she had sung – “Country roads, take me home…..”.

When she was in Holland she was craving for her motherland. Now, she is there but now she is remembering the Amsterdam’s canals, its narrow buildings, the floating flower markets and the clatter of trams,  ringing of bicycle bells. From Amsterdum to IG Airport it was a long journey. She had left the sleep-blinkers given in the aircraft and now she was wondering why she should have left them.

There was a lot of excitement when she had boarded the plane. It was no more as she had reached the destination. Her younger brother had come to receive her at the station. There were no collies, no fanfare, no festoons or banana trees, freshly cut and placed as décor at the sidewalks. Her brother embraced her softly and she kissed his forehead. Most of the Travel-Boxes and bags in India now run on castors. Extra help is not needed. They were out of the station soon. She was looking at the new topography and strange faces of her home flock. They were neither sorry not delighted to find her back. It was natural. For them she had become stranger now. The last thing there she noted there were plenty of bicycles in her home town –  their freshness gone. These were poor sisters of the trendy gadgets they ply in Holland.

As a young lass she had left the town and now she was a mature lady.
“Where is Doolha Bhai (brother in law) ?” inquired her brother.
“She will be here next week most probably.”
No one seemed to be anxious to know and talk about the stranger doolha bhai who was supposed to a Dutch Seaman. They knew their girl was now much married without the consent of her parents and works in a foreign country that is one of the richest in the world. The old-relatives would still vividly recall the stories that circulated when she didn’t return in the initial years of her education. They only knew that she was awarded a scholarship and selected for an advance research course of Horticulture. Her parents died waiting for her to return and the boy she was betrothed had grown gray with a beautiful family.

It all had begun with her parents’ reluctance to let her go and she knew the inspiration they got originated in the castle of her future in-laws. She had developed strong repugnance for the boy as she had opposed her further studies in a European country. He had told, in loudest tone, he would not let her go as his future wife.
But she cared for no one. She knew that society would declare her a rebel. It is not so easy to break the codes of society and it is tough to face the music. Once you reach the end of the tether, there is no going back.

Many years ago, may be fifteen years, she had written a letter from Holland.
“Dear Mom and Papa, I know I’d left you without your permission and still it hurts us all. I should have thanked that you didn’t stop me physically. But you didn’t let me speak my heart. I’ve not forgiven you for casting aspersion at my character and future while I’d nothing in mind except my career. I don’t feel like returning and I can’t explain it and I don’t understand it myself. I owe you too much and no recompense from my part would meet your  sacrifices and love. I must confess I’m your ingratiate child but I won’t call for forgiveness.

Your daughter,………………..”

There was an absolute disconnect in the family. Not much was discussed in the house after she had left. The rumour- mills worked overtime and fatigued after a few years. The story was over-lapped and forgotten for other juicy stuffs of society.

She could see that her father’s old Maruti car was still there at the station. Much was there for reminiscence as she stepped into that car. Crossing the old familiar road, lanes and by-lanes they reached their home – sweet home; bitter home!

Sajida was my old friend and my family invited her for dinner the next day. My wife made special continental dishes as she wanted to please her and look caring and considerate. Sitting at the terrace I asked her – where to start the discussion?

“From where you like !”
“Tell me in nutshell the whole of your Kahani.”
Reclining in the chair she had the following story to narrate:

“I left the country because I was suffocated and smothered. For my family my marriage was a big issue. I for one had no time for it. Then that boy,….what was the name, entered the scene. You see, all my family loved the boy as they were well placed and belonged to an aristocratic family. I had seen nothing or heard nothing about them that could be construed as a negative factor or a wrong selection. Initially, I felt he was good catch and he would be of a good espouse. But he came out in his true colors when the families drew closer. He was an adamant and a dictator. He began to send signals of his likes and dislikes and he sent me commands to follow them.

Meanwhile I was selected for the scholarship of my favorite subject. I had to go to Holland. He rejected the idea out-right and his family informed in no uncertain terms. He thought that whites would steal me away from him. He had some jaundiced notions of Western culture and didn’t show faith in my integrity and character. The worst flurry of blizzard I faced when my parents refused to trust me .They agreed with them and acquiesced. I shouldn’t and won’t be allowed to go.

I crossed swords with my father when he called me a prospective harlot. My mother kept silence. That was the moment when the bridges were burnt. I told them to go the Heaven and let me go to Hell. That boy is not cut-out for me and I was not sacrificing the course of my life for an idiot and for your false egos and values.”

Being a scribe I know where to give pause to a story. I asked her to begin with the dinner.
“No, let me complete the story. We say we love flowers, yet we pluck them. We love trees but we cut them down. I am a horticulturist and I talk what I know. Even today I’m afraid when someone declares his / her love for me. I tell you …we count the garden by flowers…….never with leaves that fall. To me leaves symbolize work and a serious and useful life. Flower symbolizes frivolous leisure. All natural flowers are also artificial. Leaves are real. They are dark and darkness has a unique color and brilliance. It delights my nature. I like leaves and wanted to be a leave not a flower. The pity is I had no capacity and wit to explain that.”

And where is our much gossiped doolha bahi, the proverbial Dutch Seaman ?” I tried to give her a break.
“To tell you the truth, I’m not married. I was never made to marry. I’m a born spinster. I wrote the story for the consumption of my parents, to close the subject for ever. Happiness of their dictionary has no meaning for me.”

It was difficult for me to understand the project of her life.

“Today, when I’m getting old, I have come to visit and revisit that ugly chapter of my life. I want to realize what my parents had undergone. I want to check the facts and foundation of their anxieties; their overwhelming sense of security, their claim of guardianship.”
I asked her where we go from here, uphill or down hill ?
“I begged my parents to let me go with their blessings. Unfortunately, none of supplications were heard. Contrary, they put my dignity on trial. No, I love them but I am still an aggrieved party.”

“Enough for now. We shouldn’t insult food which is lying for long and cold.” I suggested.
After dinner I repeated the same question. “Where we go from here, uphill or down hill ?”
She asked to get my violin and played the song of W.B. Rands she said she loved:
“I wish I live in a caravan,
With a horse to drive, like a pedlar man!
Where he comes from nobody knows,
No where he goes to, but he goes.
The roads are brown, and the sea is green,
But his house is just like a bathing machine.
The world is round but he can ride,
Rumble, and splash to the other side.
With a pedlar man I should like to roam,
And write a book when I come home.
All people would read my book,
Just like the travels of Captain Cook.”

I failed to conclude what she had done to her life. What she added and what she omitted to merit such life.

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.

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Curious Rice – Masterpiece from Amroha

On request from Mr. Hasan Nazar Naqvi we would like to share some amazing portraits on small piece of rice by Late Mr. Mohammed Ahmed created in 1930s

Below are the images of rice on which following portraits are  inscribed along with the colored portrait of Jesus Christ on small piece of rice.

The above mentioned portraits are engraved on several pieces of rice skillfully and artistically by Late Mr. Mohammed Ahmed in 1930s.

There are many other  rice pieces which have some unidentified portraits painted over them. You can contact Mr. Hasan Nazar for more details, his contact number is +91 9690519043.

Jesus Christ

Jesus Christ

King George V

King George V

Sir Lancelot Graham

Sir Lancelot Graham

Amroha.co.in

Amroha.co.in

The amroha.co.in Core Team and Working Group members are volunteer developers, designers, professional photographers, mass-media professionals, administrators and managers who have worked together to take amroha.co.in! to new heights in its relatively short life. Amroha.co.in team has some wonderfully talented people taking some powerfull new concepts to the forefront of social networking websites standards. We've received amazing response from visitors and members of Amroha.co.in over the Live Video Broadcasting. Live video broadcasting is a major leap forward and represents the most exciting amroha.co.in release in the history of the project. Now we are working on some new powerfull functionalities like online chatting , forum discussions, video and audio downloads, uploading videos and audios from the front end ect. Keep visiting www.amroha.co.in for future updates.

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As the Candle Burns

Part – 1

Our’s was not such an advance society but we were a mixed gathering usually consisted juniors and seniors of all ages of our mohalla and used to sit together and enjoy under the shadows of Neem and Pilkhan trees that had survived the edge of blade. While senior ladies were there as guardians, our old men avoided such flirtations of joviality and preferred to inhabit the ‘Dewankhanas’ with hubble bubble in their free time. All used to enjoy the ropes and swings in spring as the pleasant breeze blew and forced the branches of Pilkhan and Neem trees to dance in all gyrations.


It was pleasant day of a festival and we were enjoying our own chorus of folk songs meant for the occasion. Good singer among us were valued but quality of singing was not the strict standard.  Fruit buds of Pilkhan, known as ‘Tushtis’ were dropping from the tree as the wind blew. Some of these tushtis made a wafting fall from the tree and landed at the tress of Zahabiya’s head and got entangled in the cascade of her auburn hair. Standing a short distance, a handsome boy Yavar gathered the instant courage and showed the audacity to brush them off from her hair before the full view with his shivering hand. Zahabiya didn’t take umbrage against this acts of valor and the first arrow of Cupid struck the right place. For months Yavar was finding himself innocently and emotionally attracted toward the girl as she rolled the Bidis from the bamboo platter known as Soof. Yavar considered it was the most beautiful frame of ‘beauty in action’ that he could ever capture upon earth. Liberty had its limits and it was not expected or accepted to express the feeling in a romantic prelude. All nuptial matters were the sole prerogatives of elders.

Zahabiya hated the smell of smoke and abhorred the smokers style also. She often looked up at the sky with hope and prayer that one day Allah would ask someone to remove this platter from her lap, full of scorching tobacco and green leaves which would pile up before her everyday to make a living.

Part – 2

The Clock Tower is one that doesn’t sleep. Three bells rang and echoed about in the overwhelming solitude of darkness. For Yavar sleep was a commodity snatched away from him for weeks. The marriage celebration in the ‘Upper Hill’ was slowly acquiring low decibels and tired participants were also falling sleep. Few stray shouts, low tide laughs and falling of some utensils could only be heard.

He got up from his bed and set down on a wooden platform, his elbows resting at his knees and his lopping head tumbled on the parallel palms, his fingers wide splayed and inserted into the strings of his disheveled hair. His eyes were shut and he was looking at the floor in the dark.

Someone placed a hand with a soft touch. Mom was standing before him. “Yaver try to sleep and let others also sleep. More than half of the night is already passed.” Request, concern and command of a mother all rolled into an appeal of love. She gave a glass of water and asked him to drink. Yavar took the water and poured into his mouth, half falling on his shirt and rest spilling over his mouth and some of it going into his throat straight. He begged mother to sit down.

“Ma…”
“Yes Yavar….”
“Have I ever been disrespectful to you ?”
“Who said that ? No.”
“Have I ever been hard upon you ? Have I ever been unkind with you ?”
“Never.”
“Were you not the one who loved me the most after my God. Were you not the one who had sacrificed her youth to bring us up after father’s death ?”
“It was my duty.”
“Were you not the kindest of mother upon earth ?”
“I don’t know.”
“I know it mother. Then why did you inflict the sharpest of the cut upon the sapling you had planted ?”
She pulled his head to her bosom and kissed his cheek.
“Yavar..”
“Yes mom…”
“Do you believe in religion?
“Yes mom….but not much as you do. Of course I’m a believer.”
“The Holy Book says you must obey your parents’ the holy traditions say that marriage is always suitable in the families of HUM KUFF.”
“What does Hum Kuff mean mom ?”
“It means equality in status of both the families who are joining in marriage. I know more of this world than you know. I know what is good for you and what is bad. My hair has not turned grey in the sun. I can’t allow my son to marry a girl which would be a stigma for the grace for a family I’d sacrificed my everything.”
“But Zahabiya is one of us mom. Her family is related to us. Zahabiya is not a loose character mom.”
“Did I say that? I know his father was a senior officer when he prematurely died of heart attack. Her mom messed up everything including the name and left-over fortunes. Now she is not respected in the company of Bidi winders of Bidi rollers. I didn’t compromise with the family honor when your father died. I went door to door and asked if someone wanted the kids to learn Quran. I maintained my dignity and brought up you all in toughest times.”

“Mom…”
“Yes Yaver……”
“But is was none of Zahabiya’s fault.”
“In our society faults percolated down the generations and I’d not designed this society.”
“Mom, you knew I loved Zahabiya. I promised you that I shall help their whole family to rise up. Mom…a rising tide raises all boats. I’d promised you that I would be that rising tide.”
“Yaver, a rising tide brings back a lot of silt and garbage also. You are still immature, inexperienced and innocent. In your age love is a passing emotion of the weak, a misguided spell, an ephemeral idea. And now what is left to discuss ? She is going to Pakistan on Thursday. Today MEHNDI and RATJAGA (celebration before the wedding night) both are over.”
‘Mom…”
“Yes Yaver……”
“I still love Zahabiya…”
“Your love would be a sin from tomorrow once she is tied in religion with her husband.”
“Mom…”
“Yes Yave….”
“Pious love could never be a sin mom.”
“There is no any such thing as pious love between the man and women if they are not related by blood and still…………”

“But mom, once you also liked Zahabiya”
“Liking doesn’t mean that I would invite her to be my daughter- in- law. I like Taj Mahal but it doesn’t mean that I want my grave to be there in it.”
She wiped the tears from Yavar’s eye with her dopatta and kissed again the face of her son.
“Mom…”
“Yes Yavar….”
“Zahabiya is poor but she is elegant, she is different, she is respected by everyone.”
“It is a cliché now. Now she is getting married to a very good boy from our own relations. The boy is a good employee in a big company in Karachi. Oh God I’m so thankful to you as you have managed the situation for everyone’s satisfaction. Not for nothing the seniors of the family are loved and respected for their sagacity and wisdom, their powers of command and their farsightedness. Now you have not to worry about her future. She would have all the comforts. Happy Life & Safe Distance.”

“Mom…”
“Yes yaver….”
“You were never that cruel.”
“I’m still unknown to the word ‘cruelty.’
“Than what its mom ?”
“Discretion…which is always the better part of valour.”
“Mom it was my life and I were to live with her.”
‘But it was your life, with God’s grace, I’d given to you.”

The sound of Express Train passing over the River Soat bombed the discussion. It trundled past over the bridge and Yavar recalled the night when in his childhood the same sound had disturbed him and asked his father as to why the sound becomes so intense when the trains passes over the bridge. It was silence after the noise now receded and gone. But now there was again a emotional atom bomb that exploded between mother and son.

Someone in the neighborhood was begging to join for the last GHAZAL of the night.
“Get up babies, just one last song and then there would be the Azan (Morning Prayer) time….I’m making the nice tea with cardamom and mint.”
The host organizer was no other than Zahabiya’s mother. Yaver and mother were silent and now they could listen the chorus.

“Jo dil ke pas hote hain woh kaheen jaya naheen karte,
Mohabbat karne wale ghum se ghabraya naheen karte…”

Those who are near to heart they never disappear, those who love, sorrows make them never fear. Each and every line of Ghazal was repeated again. It was the third time that the rendition of the same ghazal was done in the wedding house.
‘Yaver…”
“Yes Mom……”
‘It is time to pray. Go to mosque.”
‘Yes Mom….”

Everyone in the house was sleeping when he returned from the prayers. This morning he just recited the Arabic in silence. He didn’t ask God for anything. He went to his room and after some time the sleep visited him.

Part – 3

Around 10 A.M. Abiha, his cousin sister and friend stepped into his room. She was 5 autmuns senior to him. She sat down on the chair lying next to his bed. She put her hand at his forehead. It was wet with sweat. The warmth of fingers were known to Yaver. He put hands over her ringed fingers.

“Baji…”
“Yes Yaver….”
“I’d never bargained for it.”
“All that happens, happens for the best Yavar.”
“No baji, is there still a way to invent and apply the time machine ?”
“No Yavar. Our society is too powerful, our parents are too strong and our guardians are too strict.”
“Baji….”
“Yes Yavar…”
“Zahabiya will go Pakistan on Thursday ?”
“Yes Yavar.”
“What is the day today ?”
“Tuesday…”
“Baji..”
“She has never read Urdu. She speaks Urdu but she writes Hindi.”
“She is not going to write you a letter Yavar…”
“Yes Baji…..’
“Tempus fugit…”
“Time flows Yavar. Did you listen the last song of the night ?”
“Yes baji. It was a message for you that Zahabiya had requested her mother to convey through ghazal. Life is the precious gift of God. You are not allowed to destroy it for the sake of one girl.

Meanwhile, Yaver’s mother entered in a delicate gait. She took another chair and sat down.
Both the children got up in respect and sat down after salams.
“yavar…”
“Yes mom….”
‘I’ve sent a telegram to your uncle that you are coming to Bombay.”
“Yes mom….”
“You go by the earliest train from here for Delhi and from Delhi you can a catch an early flight. The ticket is only Rs 440 /-.”
“Yes Mom.”
“All the items and clothes you need are packed. I’ve talked your boss. He has asked you to report after a fortnight.”
‘Yes mom.”

When the breakfast was over, one could hear the trot of a horse. A tonga reported at the door for station. Someone put his bag and suitcase in the carriage. He looked around his house. He felt he was deserting a poor old friend. Here, when the going was good, Zahabiya used to visit often; here just under the Jamun tree she had looked into her eyes and felt their transparence; here when the going was good between the two families, Zahabiya’s father was still alive they had taken dinners together. Here just next to rose bushes he remembered Zahabia curled up in her father’s arm when she was a kid. Here her mother had once given the sprinkler in Zahabiya’s delicate small hands to water the plants. But it was when Zahabiya’s family was HUM KUFF, equal in status.

“Mom….”
“Yes Yavar…”
“May I go…”
“We have to tie the IMAM ZAMIN round your arm.”
“Yes Mom.” Mom tied the the cloth ribbon that had prayers for safety with some currency.
“Mom….”
“Yes Yaver…”
“You have crossed the threshold Mom !”
“No Yaver..”
“Yes Mom….”
Khuda Hafiz !”
‘Khuda Hafiz !!”

Part – 4

He stepped into the tonga. Modest preparations for Zahabiya’s Nikah were in full swing. Some kids came near the horse and one or two elderly wished him Good Bye from distance. Abiah kissed his fore head ! He embarked upon a new journey, an escape invented for him – this time the itenerary was open-ended.

It is story with vintage tag.
The End

 

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.

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O Des Se Aney Wale Bata Kis Hal Men Hain Yaran-e-Watan

A few stray thoughts, a few point of views and few observations, not all my own after my recent Amroha visit. Of course I’m back today !

You know your hometown intimately, and it knows you well.

But there is always the fear. As the date of leaving approaches, you begin to realize just how much of you is based on this town, these people, the familiar streets you walked over and over without ever checking a map. The slangs, the cobbler, the neighborhood uncle with a horse. the references of the shops, the shopkeepers, rickshaw-wallas, tangewalla, the sweepers and the goldsmith, the sweet-maker and the washer-man, your near and dear ones, all those who had been with you some time or other, a set that can never be perfectly reproduced elsewhere — these are all things that crafted your history and, more importantly, what you expect out of life. There is a certain comfort to knowing one’s surroundings intimately, a certainty that lends confidence to whoever experiences it. It’s hard not to feel like the master of some kind of domain when there is not a single nook of your territory you haven’t explored.

But, as the time curls fast and the people you knew in your childhood disappeared for ever or almost in the process of disappearing, a visit to the home town in no more a pleasure but a nightmare. Very few know you now by name. Those who could have remembered are already suffering from the losses of memory and vision. Now no more Nemat Ullah uncle on his horse back to welcome you when your carriage would take a turn to the lane that leads to your house.
A heavy load of sweet-bitter memories and no one to share.

Waqt kisi ka intizar naheen karta aour mera watan Amroha koi exception naheen hai !

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.

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HUSAIN AND HUMANITY

ALIF LAAM MEEM -(DIVINE SLOGAN)

“Aati thi soobh fitna-e-taza liye hue,
Jati thi sham din ka jamaza lie hue”

Undoubtedly the above couplet expresses the real picture of Pre-Islamic Arabia but even after the perfect revelation of ISLAM, Hz. Mohammad Mostafa (S.A.W.) ibn-e-Abdullah ibn-e-Hz.Mo’ttalib Arabs were still committing the heinous satanic crimes. They forgot the words of Allah-

“There is no God but He;
it is He who gives life and Who gives death.” (44:8).

They forgot that “no vision can grasp Him, but His grasp is over all visions.”(6:13)

And they also forgot that- “He will gather you together after death for the day of judgement for your good or evil deeds.”(45:26).

He sent one Lakh Twenty four thousand Ambiya for preaching the people of all the worlds of His created universe but what happened to Arabs who did not hesitate to follow the satanic evils saying them Muhammadans.  They were most uncivilized and illiterate people, so Allah sent his best adorable Prophet Hz. Mohammad Mustafa (PBUH) from the ancestry of Hz. Hashim ibn-e-Hz.Monaf to preach the religion of humanity (Islam) which started with the creation of Universe and got perfection by Hz. Mohammad Mostafa s.w.a. by Allah’s will and declared as ISLAM 13 years earlier than Hijrat.
See the irony of the time, Allah sent His last Prophet, the ultimate Rasool, most talented messenger practically presenting the divine path free from all the evils for salvation of the souls to inculcate and create humanity. But the Arabs deceived him and made the land as bad as Hell while the creatures of of entire world were being enlightened by the divine energy of Hz. Mohammad (s.a.w.) ,his Ahl-e-bet and qur’an –the voice of Allah.

ZALAY KAL KITABO LA RAIBA FEEH.
HODAL LIL MOTTAQINAL LAZINA YOM-E-NONA BIL GHAIB.

The collection of all the divine messages and the mission of Allah’s revelation, is the Holy Qur’an which is par excellence consisting of all the knowledge of the worlds of created universe. Our abilities are unfortunately still unable to understand it even to a little extent and we confined it within our interests and abilities.
It was seventh century that was full of bloodshed and betrayal of Arabs. In such horrible and frustrated environment there was no place for humane to survive. The worst society was continually sinking in dreadful darkness of satanic world and made the land hell full of devils.
The life itself was in search of shelter to maintain continuity. The animals were better than those self proclaimed Muslims who crossed all the boundaries of wickedness .So the Almighty God sent His last and most beloved Prophet Hz. Mohammad Mostafa (s.a.w.) on the sinful- land of Arab.
Hz. Mohammad (S.W.A) was a figure of qualities, knowledge, justice, truth and perfect humanity from his early childhood. He was extremely handsome and brave above all the preachers and prophets. Slowly he got established his noble image amidst a group of gentle men of Arab. Before his Risalat, he became famous for his divine qualities. He was a great reformer following the commandments of Allah. He was practically busy to reform society and inculcate the humanity following the path of truth giving up evils. He wanted to make a strong nation for human beings having equal rights and responsibilities. He had been trying his best to propagate humanity which was the mission of Allah and to follow the right path of goodness leaving the satanic evil tendencies. The people having faith in one God and goodness had been increasing to join him and got comfort giving up the evil ideas and horrible superstitions. Day by day his divine influence to win the hearts of the people increased and reformation in the society started but simultaneously the devil spirits of Bani-Umaiya were coming across to destroy the fabric of humanity for their own domination. They were following the way of Satan and their deeds were full of sins due to their evil ideas about life of human-beings. They all were defeated again and again by the savior of humanity but the feeling of revenge was slowly increasing in the hearts of sinners. Hz. Mohammad (s.a.w.) preached the society all the divine objectives and the mission of almighty God, to create the peace and prosperity to nourish the religion of humanity for the sake of salvation from the sins.
Hz.Mohmmad Mostafa (s.a.w.) died in harness to reform the society, and to establish the divine religion of humanity in which equality, liberty, righteousness, respect of feelings and thirst for the search of truth and knowledge were essential components to bring forth prosperity in the life of human race. Such a great reformer and the last messenger of Allah Hz. Mohammad (s.a.w.) declared Hz. Ali ibn-e-Abitalib (his paternal cousin and son in law) as his WALI ( heir descendent) in GHADEER , who was the centre of the mission of Allah around whom the entire Universe moves and who was equal part of the same divine energy that of Hz. Mohammad Mustafa (PBUH) and was the cause of creation of the universe whom NUSAIR people called him their God due to his divine powers .He continued the same mission of humanity. He was the best versed person, man of ideals and justice, ocean of love and tolerance world of humanity and bravery and treasures of knowledge and qualities, means no merit was escaping from his personality created by Almighty God.

“ SHAH-E-MARDAN,
SHER-E-YAZADAN,
QUWAT-E-PARWARDIGAR,
LA FATA ILLA ALI ,
LA SAIF-ILLA-ZULFAIQAR”

He was such a great humane whom humanity feels honored originated by the divine NOOR OF PANJETAN. He taught the spiritual power of Almighty God to reform the society. He left no stone unturned to spread and propagate the religion of humanity to enlighten the people to understand the divine truth and to follow the righteous path and avoid the satanic activities. Horror, torture, crime, injustice, absurd superstitions and darkness of illiteracy were slowly disappearing from the attitude of contemporary society. Divine feeling of worthlessness of materialistic world was spreading with all round fame of Ali ibn-e-Abitalib, the Wali of Hz. Mohammad, but the opposition was silently sowing the seeds of heinous crimes to grow against the mission of humanity. The cruel and tyrant Arabs knowingly forgot the message of Allah and tortured Hz. Ali (A.S.) denying the divine message.

“Sabbaha lillah-e-mafis samavat-e-wal-arz-e-wa huwal azeezal hakeem. Lahoo mulkus samavatt-e-wal-arz.

Yu haiyyo-ma-yo-mayyato-wa-huwa-ala kull-e-sha-in-qadeer”

That means all the things on the earth and havens are fully devoted to God and perform prayer. The God is the lone commander of all the havens and earth. He made the life and death He was forever and He is foever. He is visible He is invisible everywhere.

Sinner baddus of Arabia calling them as Mohammadans or the followers of ALLAH could not wickedly accept the divine messages ofAllah and they decided to assassinate Hz. Ali-Murtaza (a.s.), his family members and followers. The demons, the followers of Satan and Beezebub fought many wars with Mola-e-kainat but were defeated ever. Then they decided to kill him during the Morning Prayer (namaz) inside the mosque in the month of Ramadan. Ibn-e-Moljim committed this heinous crime of attack and Maula-e-Kainat could not survive for more than three days.

YUQIMONUS SALATA MIMMA RAZZAQNA HOM YONFIQON

The people of Allah never get disappointed to give any sacrifice to protect the humanity for the fulfilment of the wish of God. Hz. Imam Hasan (elder son of Hz.Ali-e-Murtaza) took the same responsibility but the wicked sinners so called Muslims could not tolerate the divine recommendations due to their evil practices. Cruel and hardhearted Jada bint-e-Ashas, his wife, treacherously gave him poison and assassinated him cruelly according to the instructions of Maviya ibn-e-Abu Sofyan.

After the martyrdom of our second Imam Hz. Imam Hasan (A.S.), his younger brother Hz. Imam Husain was accepted as third Imam by the recommendations of Allah whom Hz. Mohammad adored very much because Allah has already told him that this son of Holy Lady Fatima (A.S.) would be brutally assassinated with his seventy two true friends and family members in the pathetic state of three days thirst and hunger on the horrid hot sand of Karbala near river Furat to fulfil his promise to safeguard the humanity and the divine commandments. All the tortures were to be faced by his Ahlebait. He did know that Imam Husain would give all the sacrifices to distinguish the religion of humanity for the honour of mankind and to enlighten the entire universe by following the rule of Allah and denying the satanic evils.Mirza Asad Ullah Khan Ggalib’s words from the core of  the heart as psalms are-

”SALAM USSE KE AGAR BADSHAH KAHEN USKO,

TO PHIR KAHEN KE KUCH ISS SE SIWA KAHEN USSKO.

KHUDA KA BANDA,KHUDAVANDIGAR BANDON KA,

AGAR KAHEN NA KHUDAVAND TO KYA KAHEN USSKO.

FAROGH-E-JOHAR-E-IMAAN HUSAIN IBN-E-ALI,

KE SHAMA-E-ANJUMAN-E-KIBRIYA KAHEN USSKO.

BAHOT HE PAYA-E-GARD-E-RAH-E-HUSAIN BULAND,

BA QADR-E-FAHAM AGAR KEEMYA KAHEN USSKO.

 

HAMARE DARD KI YA-RAB KAHIN DAWA NA MILE,

AGAR NA DARD KI APNE DAWA KAHEN USSKO.

BHARA HE GHALIB-E-DIL KHASTA KE KALAAM ME DARD,

GHALAT NAHIN HE KE KHOON-E-NAWA KAHEN USSKO.’——- [MIRZA GHALIB]

Tyrant Maviya ibn-e-Abu Sofyan breached the compromise with Hz.Imam Hasan[A.S.] and Yazeed ibn-e- Maviya became the king in 61st Hijri . He was the ill assorted bunch of all the evils and he was the satanic representative whose betrayal made him king.. He wanted to contaminate the religion of humanity ‘Islam’ by his materialistic powers. He wanted the evil deeds might be mixed with religion of humanity so homogeneously that might become the part of Islam to fulfill his satanic mission. Yazeed wanted his sinful ideology recommended and verified by the divine decedents oh Hz. Mohammad (PBUH) which was never accepted by Ahlebait. He wanted to destroy the holy spirit of Islam and to get dominance in the name of unreal Islam. He thought him as God and wanted to change the Shriyat according to his convenience. He wanted to make such a shameless society that would be unable to differentiate between right and wrong, Good and evil, human and inhuman deeds, to suppress the mission of Islam. He wanted Hz. Imam Husain to accept his bayat which might become the verification of correctness of Yazeed and his ancestors. So how could Imam Husain (A.S.) accept his proposal. He refused it to protect the humanity. Yazeed had been continuously increasing the torture to Imam Husain (A.S.), his family and divine followers to abide them for bayat.

“YAZEED KO TO NA THA IJTEHAD KA PAYA,

BURA NA MANYE GAR HUM BURA KAHEN USSKO”.

Imam Husain (A.S.) left Madeena for Mecca with his family but got the news that Yazeed had sent a platoon of soldiers in disguise of Hajees to assassinate him during Hajj in Kana-e-Kaaba so he preferred to depart for Koofa avoiding bloodshed at holy Kaaba.

There was another embodiment of evils , Ibn-e-Ziyad ,who was posted as governor of Koofa getting mad, to arrest Hz. Imam Husain [A.S.].He started to send his armies but could not get success in his wicked mission.
One of Ibn-e-Ziyad’s army ‘s commander was Hor whose soldiers had been secretly following the divine caravan of Hz.Imam Husain to arrest by the order of Yazeed. Hot environment of summer made them thirsty as their stored water had been finished. Hor requested Imam Husain for water, so the savior of humanity Imam Husain (A.S.) gave his stored water without considering him as his enemy. All the soldiers and the animals of Hor’s army could be satisfied from thirst by getting the water. Hor told Imam Husain that his duty was to arrest him but his insight got enlightened by the divine humanity of Imam Husain which made him restless till late night to decide his role. Ultimately he came to Imam Husain alone to inform that a tyrant governor, Ibn-e-Ziyad himself had departed with his platoon to arrest him. He was the same tyrant who had already brutally assassinated Hz. Muslim and his two innocent children. Hor advised to change his destination from Koofa to any other place in darkness of night as his army was in deep sleep. Imam Husain accepted and changed the destination that was already known as prophecy of Hz. Mohammad [s.a.w.] by the Almighty God for Imam Husain.

MIMMA RAZZAQNA-HUM-YUNFIQOON

HE KARBOBALA GOYA KE BAZAR-E-MUHABBAT,

KHOON APNA BAHATE HAIN KHARIDAR-E-MUHABBAT.

It was dawning of the day when Imam Husain, his family and followers reached to their desolate destination Karbala. He paid the cost of the land near RIVER FURAT to the owners, and requested to bury the bodies of martyrs in the soil after the war with sinful tyrant Yazeed and his evil armies.Hz. Imam Husain [a.s.] got their Khaimas (tents) fixed on the bank of River Furat but as soon as Ibn-e-Ziyad got this information, his army encompassed the Khyam-e-Husaini and informed Yazeed, who immediately sent the armies from Rome to Shaam. The fistful Ahlebait and followers were pushed away from the river bank to horrid hot sand of Karbala. Now Husain and Husaini caravan was helplessly surrender by tyrannical cavalries and infantries of Yazeed to assassinate the divine preacher and the Embodiments of Humanity. Again and again the same question either Husain accept bayat of Yazeed or bear more horrible tortures in the inferno of torment but Imam Husain for whom the Almighty Allah created the entire Universe, who had been given the divine powers, was the alma-mater of humanity accepted to sacrifice all, but not the humanity, to dignify the ultimate truth of the mission of Almighty Allah.

SHA HUSTO HUSAIN, BADSHAHUSTO HUSAIN,
DEENUSTO HUSAIN,DEEN PANAHUSTO HUSAIN,
SERDAD NADADAST DER DAST-E-YAZEED,
HAQQA KE BINA-E- LAILAHUSTO HUSAIN.

Hz.Imam Husain[A.S.] was quite aware of the personification of inhumanity and the ill assorted bunch of all the evils – Yazeed, will not leave any heinous crime to commit against Ahlebait to destroy the divine religion of values but he sacrificed for the sake of humanity to protect it from satanic world of evils.

The Husaini Jamaat, that was the savior of divine religion having the soldiers from the age group of 6month old Hz. Ali Asghar to very old Hz. Habeeb Ibn-e-Mazahir and Muslim Ibn-e-Osoja consisting of 72 or some more, was the symbol of all bravery and master of war-tactics. They were braver than the bravest whom millions of Yazeed’s soldiers were afraid and unable to defeat 72 people. It was the clear mirror of Yazeed’s defeat that lakhs of the soldiers from different Arab countries were sent to fight with a group of 72 warriors of Islam.

Now it was seventh Mohorram-ul-Haraam when there was no space around carvan-e-Husaini free from Yazeed’s army. Yazeed ordered to prevent water for Husain and his follows. The cruel soldiers were posted at Furaat for CARAVAN-E- HUHAINI to face the thirst for break their courage and to abide them for his bayat. But the great divine ideal humane Hz. Imam Husain and his followers were boldly defeating the Yazeed mission to establish the power of humanity. Yazeed was increasing the severe infliction of sufferings everyday but there was not even a little fractional movement in Husaini determination to protect the humanity on the Earth.

Tenth Mohorram was the third day without water and food in the desert of Karbala for Husain and his followers when the satanic frustration of Yazeed had started to break all the limits of dreadful cruelty but the entire universe salutes the bravos of Karbala who were not ready to leave Hz.Imam Husain while he did request them to save their lives from Yazeedi tyranny but they be sought to sacrifice their lives even if they could get seven births. Husaini caravan performed the prayers whole night before Aashura. Hunger and thirst could not harm the strength of Husaini caravan who were ready to sacrifice everything fighting against Yazeedis.

“Karbala pyaas se labraiz the Aashur ke din
Us taraf koon ke pyase the, idhar paani ke”

All the Husaini soldiers fought bravely since the Morning Prayer till the evening against the huge Yazeedi army led by Ibn-e-Ziyad in which a number of hard-hearted cruel tyrants were eager to assassinate the son of Fatima and Ali with his fellows, to make Yazeed happy deserting all the images of Hz. Mohammad and the divine religion of humanity. First of all the devoted friends and follow bravely fought , then relatives, and then his family members having the second last warrior of 6 months, his innocent son Hz. Ali Asghar who too could not get a drop of water for three days like others.Tyrant Hormila assassinated him by a poisoned three edged row in the arm of Imam Husain when he was requesting water from the cruel force of Yazeed. Now Imam Husain was alone in the Husain force of 72 braves. Imam Zainul Abideen[A.S.] was suffering from severe disease making him unable to even get up from the bed. Janab-e-Zainu, his beloved sister has become Ali to help Imam Husain and all the children and ladies of Husaini soldiers.

SAB KUCH BHI LUTA KAR YE LUTANE KI TKI HASRAT,

JAISE KE KHODAVAND SE AB BHI HO NIDAMAT,

YON DIL SE LAGA LETE THE EK EK KI MAYYAT,

JAISE KE HUR EK DAGH THA INAM-E-MASHIYAT,

EK LAASH OTHI, DOOSRI TAYYAR DHARI THI,

KAT-TI GAYI JITNI BHI YE SHAAKH HARI THI.   [JANAB WAHEED AKHTAR]

Bloodshed was everywhere in the battle field of Karbala and Husain was alone to fulfill the promise to save the divine religion of humanity by giving his own last sacrifice in the name of Almighty Allah and his deen. Like all 71 Shaheeds Imam Husain also fought bravely full of war tactics and killed a number of Yazeedi soldiers but at last Almighty Allah wanted him to put his Zulfiqar (sword) at rest for the sake of Islam and to give his own last sacrifice. Now Hz. Imam Husain[A.S] became helpless and got surrounded by satanic forces of Yazeed .Shimr,Omer-e-Sad and Sanan most inhuman cruels of Ibn-e-Marjana’s army assassinated Hz.Imam Husain creating most pathetic tempest in the battle field of Karbala and now the holy lady, the sister of Imam Husain took the responsibility to protect the religion of humanit

“KIYON ISKO  SITAM GAARI-E-DONYA NA KAHEN HUM,

JALLADON KE AAGE HEN NABI YON KE BHI SAR KHUM.

**********************

 

“Moradabadi Darwazah” Tumhari Dastan tak bhee na hogi dastanon mein….

Moradabadi Darwazah – It is an inadvertent monument of apathy, ignorance and indifference of our community.

Moradabadi Darwaza

Moradabadi Darwaza

Whenever I pass under the ramshackle arches, through the rabble of ‘Morabadi Darwazah’ I can’t help remember Allama Iqbal.

‘Kuch jo samjha mere shikwey ko to Rizwan samjha, mujhko jannat se nikala hua insaan samjah.’ Rizwan alone, my plaintive voice began to recognize. He knew for a human who has lost his paradise.

“Naaz hai taqat-e-guftar pe insano ko, baat karne ka saleeqah naheen insano ko.” That they are alone and blest with speech how proud these humans be, yet, ignorant, they lack the art to use it gracefully.

“Woh bhee din the ke yehi maya-e-ranai tha, Nazish-e-mousam-gul Lala-e-sahrai tha.” The tulips of wilds once reigned the queen of blossom time. In this once lay the quintessence of loveliness sublime.

“Kis qadar garan tumhen subah ke bedari hai, Hum se kab pyar tumhen neend tumhen pyari hai.” To pray to Me at the break of the day you now an ordeal deem, your morning slumber sweeter far-yet you would faithful seem.

“Jin ko aata naheen duniya men koi fun tum ho, Naheen jis qoum ko parvah-e-nasheman tum ho.” You love your home the least among the nations of the earth, you are the most incompetent in knowledge and in worth.

The following lines may not be pleasant to read and might fail to meet the merits of historian. However, these are like a clarion call for the progeny of Hazrat Syed Mohammed Meer Adl. I hope and pray that they would listen to me in the most positive spirits. Today when I go towards that side I just go to attend the wedding parties which are organized at the outskirts of the town at an ornate, magnificent sprawling banquet hall. I try to recall the bygone history the glittering past and present apathy that cries with the bellowing winds – it was once the Shah Rah of our azamat.

Half of the descendents of Meer Adl have migrated to Pakistan or other western countries. Still there is a huge population that claims its roots with Meer Adl. Their fathers and grand fathers made the conscious and wise decision to remain rooted and be a part of vibrant, secular and forward looking nation – INDIA. By the Grace of God, on either side of divide, they are a lot highly educated, sophisticated and well organized. Their prosperity makes it incumbent upon them to save their rich heritage. For a moment my heart sinks as I stop near the tablet that is fixed at the gate’s left pillar. It reads something as follows:

“Allah-o-Akabar. Der Ehd-e-Sultan Aleeshan Sahib Quran sani ShahabUddin Shah Jahan Padshah-e-Ghazi Khul Allah malaka Siyadat maab Meeran Abdul Majid ein Qilla bana namood.”

And the couplet which describes the rest of the details:

“Shood ein Qilla khor mee afza-ey, Khoob-o-mazboot-o-khas-o-mustehkam,
Khwastam saal eish az dabeer khurd, Guft bashumar Qilla-e-khuram.”
Ba ehtamam-e-bandaey Kamal Khan Khanzad Shahar-e-Ramazan-ul-mubarak 1052 memariyan Syed Abdul Majid.

It would be an insult to the erudition of denizens of the town if I have to tell, even after describing all details mentioned above, who built the Qill-e-alia. Suffice to say : Kamal Khan was the civil engineer. To wind up the story I must remind that a new market in the fort was added by Dewan Syed Mehmood Saheb who was the close descendent of Meer Adl. That market has survived the twists and turns of history and still remains as the thriving business space a throbbing commerce center. It is known as BARA BAZAR. It is also important to note that even in the difficult period of Shahan Shah Aourengzeb, and even after him, the descendents of Meer Adl occupied important positions at the royal courts.

Another gate of the fort CHANGA DARWAZA is lost for ever in new ugly haphazard concrete jungle and a motley crowd inhabits those places that were once the private payen baghs, bara dares, zanan kanas, adalats and khilwats of Sadat.

Today the tumble down ruins, the discreditable building, an eyesore for the passers-by ‘Moradabadi Darwazah’ is begging you, beseeching the progeny of Syed Mohammed Meer Adl, the descendents of Dewan Syed Mehmood in particular and Sadat-e-Uzzam in general to do something to salvage the remnants of forgotten grandeur. Bury your blotted egoes, sit down together, join heads, talk among yourselves, discuss with local and state authorities; go to INTACH and leave no stone unturned to save your glorious past.

Is anybody listening !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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.

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