Memories (Episode 16-a)
Construction of Dār al-ʿUlūm in Sharafi Goth
I have mentioned previously that after giving up the land near the grave of ʿAllama Usmani (may Allah have mercy on him), it was through the blessings of the sincerity and trust in Allah of my respected father (may Allah have mercy on him), that only a few months had passed since that incident when a businessman came to my respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) and informed him that a friend of his, Haji Ibrahim Dadabhai, resided in South Africa and owned some land in a village called Sharafi Goth, located behind Malir, at some distance from Karachi city. This land included a bungalow and a few houses in the style of servant quarters, as well as a well. He was prepared to donate this land to Dar al-ʿUlum, on the condition that construction there be promised to be done within five years. My respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) and Hadhrat Mawlana Nur Ahmad (may Allah have mercy on them both) went to inspect the place. They found it to be situated very far from the city and entirely covered with sand dunes and shrubs, and the route to reach it was also extremely difficult. There was no paved road to reach there. The present-day Defence Housing Society, located along the road to Korangi Creek, was not even conceived of at that time. Thus, after travelling for several miles through a desolate stretch of Korangi Creek Road, one would reach a point (roughly the location where today the road of the Industrial Area begins) where one had to descend into a dirt track. From there, one had to cover more than five miles along such an uneven path that the vehicle, rocking and jolting, could not travel faster than twenty miles per hour. The route by bus was also extremely difficult, as at that time even the idea of Korangi Township did not exist, and Landhi Colony had only just begun to be settled. From its last stop, the distance to this location was approximately one and a half miles, entirely covered with shrubs and sand dunes, and even for walking there was no proper dirt road.
The truth is, at that time, the very idea of constructing a Dar al-ʿUlūm on that land required extraordinary courage and fortitude. It was indeed the courage of those very individuals—and theirs alone—that they embarked upon this momentous enterprise in that desolate place. And Haji Ibrahim Dadabhai (may Allah have mercy on him) donated twenty-five acres of that land to Dar al-ʿUlum on 19th July 1955 (approximately 28th Dhū al-Qaʿdah 1374 AH). Later, an additional six acres were added, bringing the total land donated by him to thirty-one acres. (Subsequently, when this area was included in town planning, the government required some land from these thirty-one acres to correct the layout. In exchange, Dar al-ʿUlum received twenty-five additional acres of uncultivated land from the government. As a result, the total area of Dar al-ʿUlum became fifty-six acres. However, in the beginning, work commenced based only on the initial twenty-five acres.)
Consequently, our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him), Hadhrat Mawlana Nur Ahmad (may Allah have mercy on him) and other members of the administrative council, relying upon Allah, commenced construction at this new site on Friday 30th Rabīʿ al-Thani 1375 AH, corresponding to 16th December 1955.[1]
Haji Abdul Latif Bawani (may Allah have mercy on him) was a member of the administrative council of Dar al-ʿUlum. Allah Most High had blessed him with great devotion to Din along with worldly wealth. On the land near the grave of Hadhrat ʿAllama Shabbir Ahmad Usmani (may Allah have mercy on him), which had previously been allocated to Dar al-ʿUlum and which I have mentioned earlier, he had at that time announced a contribution of 93,000 rupees for construction. However, due to the reasons already mentioned, construction there could not proceed. Now, when this new land was obtained, he took it upon himself to get two buildings of Dar al-ʿUlum constructed through himself and his associates. He fulfilled this undertaking in such a manner that we were left amazed. He would frequently endure the arduous journey and reach the site himself, and would personally stand and oversee the construction work. Allah Most High had endowed Hadhrat Mawlana Nūr Ahmad (may Allah have mercy on him) with a special passion for taking on challenges. The more difficult a task, the more fervently he would pursue it. Accordingly, in order to complete the building as quickly as possible, he dedicated himself day and night. By the grace and bounty of Allah Most High, within a short span of ten months, two blocks of buildings—facing one another—were completed: one block was for student accommodation, and the other for classrooms.
On the other hand, in that far-flung desert, the construction of Dar al-ʿUlum needed to reach at least such a level that teaching could commence from the coming academic year. However, a major obstacle arose in initiating classes: the esteemed teachers upon whom teaching at Nanak Warah largely depended were departing from the next year onward. This was because that very year, Hadhrat Mawlana Sayyid Muhammad Yusuf Binnori (may Allah have mercy on him) was laying the foundation of a new madrasa in the Jamiʿ Masjid of New Town—which, by the grace of Allah, is today counted among the most distinguished Islamic seminaries of the country. Hadhrat Mawlana Fadhl Muhammad, Hadhrat Mawlana Mufti Wali Hasan, and Hadhrat Mawlana Badiʿ al-Zaman (may Allah have mercy on them all) had already promised to serve as teachers there. Hadhrat Mawlana Muntakhab al-Haq and Hadhrat Mawlana Mazhar Baqa had become affiliated with the Department of Islamic Studies at Karachi University. Hadhrat Mawlana Ubayd al-Haq had moved to Dhaka. Replacing these individuals was no easy task. Meanwhile, our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) himself used to teach a major portion of Sahih al-Bukhari, but due to his numerous engagements related to the city, it was not possible for him—after the move to Dar al-ʿUlum’s new building—to continue teaching these lessons. Therefore, in order to begin classes in the new building of Dar al-ʿUlum, a fairly large number of new teachers were needed.
At the same time, our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) always adhered to the principle that it was not appropriate to invite any teacher engaged at another madrasah to come teach at his own. He would often say: “It is not right to ruin one madrasa in order to build another—except in the case where a teacher himself wishes to leave his current institution.”
But by the grace and bounty of Allah, the Exalted and Most High, a solution to this difficulty emerged: our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) received word that some teachers, of their own accord, were intending to leave their respective madrasas. Therefore, there was no objection to inviting them. Accordingly, Hadhrat Mawlana Ubaydullah promised to come from Bahawalpur; Hadhrat Mawlana Mufti Rashid Ahmad from Therhi; Hadhrat Mawlana Akbar Ali from Mazahir al-ʿUlum Saharanpur; and Hadhrat Mawlana Salimullah (may Allah have mercy on them all) from Tando Allahyar. In addition, Hadhrat Mawlana Muhammad Idris Merathi (may Allah have mercy on him), who until then had been preparing students for the exams of al-Sunnah al-Sharqiyyah at Idarah Sharqiyyah in Jacob Line, also promised to teach a few lessons on an honorary basis. Moreover, Hadhrat Mawlana Shams al-Haq (may Allah have mercy on him) was a young man at the time and had only recently graduated from Jamiʿa Ashrafiya, Lahore. He too intended to render service at Dar al-ʿUlum. Similarly, our paternal cousin Hadhrat Mawlana Khurshid Alam had also graduated from Dar al-ʿUlum Deoband around that time. Our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) called him over from Deoband as well. In this way, the shortage of teachers was, to a large extent, resolved.
Relocation to Sharafi Goth
Until then, we had continued our studies while living at home—we would go to the madrasa every morning and return home in the evening. But after the madrasa shifted to the new building, this arrangement was no longer feasible, because the new building was very far from home, and reaching it would take several hours. Therefore, in order to continue our studies there, we had to reside in the on-campus hostel throughout the week. Up until that point, I had never experienced being away from home. Furthermore, our house had only recently been built, and we had enjoyed its comforts for only about a year. I was in my fourteenth year of life, and being separated from my parents was a constant agony to the soul. But there was no other choice if we wished to continue our education. Thus, we moved into the student residence at Dar al-ʿUlum. At that time, there were two blocks in the student hostel. Our accommodation was in Room Number 16, located at the edge of the Eastern Block (this block has now become part of the Madrasat al-Banat (Girls’ Madrasa)). Just beyond our room, skipping one room, there was a large room under the dome. Rooms beneath the dome were allotted to unmarried teachers, and it was in that room that Hadhrat Mawlana Shams al-Haq (may Allah have mercy on him) resided. He was a young man at the time and had only recently completed his studies and begun teaching. For a few days, our lessons of Ḥusami were also assigned to him, so he was among our teachers. But he was cheerful and refined in temperament, and he had made us so at ease with him that he was more of a friend to us than a teacher.
This was the first time we had separated from home and moved into this new building in Sharafi Goth. At that time, two blocks had been completed along with plastering and paintwork. One was situated to the south and consisted of fifteen rooms that made up the student hostel. The other was directly opposite it on the northern side (where today the entrance known as Bab Faṭima of the new mosque is located), and initially it comprised twelve classrooms. Later, after the addition of two circular rooms, the total number of classrooms became fourteen.
There was a distance of approximately one hundred yards between the two blocks, which was completely filled with sand dunes and shrubs. These dunes and shrubs were home not only to snakes and scorpions, but also to chameleons, monitor lizards, sand lizards, porcupines, and who knows how many other types of creatures. During the day, they were afraid of us; at night, we were afraid of them—because that was their time to come out and roam about. Scorpions in particular would move about freely after the ‘Isha prayer, and—as if seeing it as a chance to settle the score for the day—they would often sting someone’s foot. After ‘Isha, it was common to hear the scream of a student, and we would come to know that a scorpion had stung him. There was no doctor or hospital in the vicinity, so various traditional remedies were tried. Someone suggested that if a scorpion were killed and immersed in oil, that oil could be used as a cure for a sting. This remedy was tested on several students and proved somewhat beneficial. Eventually, the treatment that became most popular was this: to have a child urinate in a sharp stream on the site of the sting. So whenever someone was stung, a child would be caught and compelled to urinate on the affected spot.
To the east of the southern block, after leaving a narrow space for a pathway, a third block was under construction at that time, which had not yet been painted. On the western end of this block was Room Number 16, which had been allocated to us. We two brothers and our nephew Ḥakim Musharraf Ḥusayn (may Allah have mercy on him) lived there, and we had placed three small charpoys (traditional rope beds) in the room. Government-supplied water lines had not yet reached Dar al-ʿUlum, and the old well on the premises had brackish water that was not fit for drinking. Therefore, for our daily use, water was brought from a well in Sharafi Goth, located approximately a mile away. A donkey cart was purchased for this purpose, and the responsibility of transporting water in a large tank mounted on the cart was assigned to a cheerful young man whom we used to call Musa Bahishti. He would bring water two or three times a day, and standing in the middle of the student hostel area, he would loudly call out: “Pani!” In fact, his pronunciation was such that it would sound like: “Pani!” Upon hearing this call, we would grab our jugs and pitchers and rush over to the cart, and Musa Bahishti would fill each of our containers one by one.
Though this water too was not entirely sweet, it was still drinkable. For drinking, water would be stored in a suraḥu (earthen flask), and for ablution and the like, in a ghara (clay pot), from which it would be poured into a lota (ewer) for performing wudhu. Later, when we began to crave some comfort, we brought a small water tank and placed it in the veranda in front of our room. With the tap attached to it, it became easier to perform wudhu and to wash our hands, etc. However, if the water ever ran out, there was no immediate solution except to fetch brackish water from the madrasa’s well and consider that a blessing—until Musa Bahishti’s cart came around. It was at such times that one would truly appreciate the value of that donkey cart.
One additional benefit of the donkey cart was that if a VIP guest happened to be arriving at Dar al-ʿUlum by bus, then in order to spare him the trouble of walking all the way from Landhi bus stop to Dar al-ʿUlum, the donkey cart would be sent to the stop, and the guest would ride in this VIP carriage to reach Dar al-ʿUlum. This royal journey was also granted to the sick.
[1] This date is recorded on page 87 of Dār al-ʿUlūm’s annual report of Ramadan 1373 AH to Shaʿban 1374 AH, corresponding to May 1954 to April 1955.
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