Memories (Episode 19-b)

That same year, my elder brother Hadhrat Mawlana Mufti Muhammad Rafiʿ Usmani (may Allah grant him a long life)[1] was assigned the second-year books Hidayat al-Naḥw, ʿIlm al-Sigha and Taysir al-Mantiq to teach. Among his students that year were Mawlana Azizur Rahman (who, MashaAllah, is nowadays a teacher of Dawrat al-Hadith and the director of the monthly magazine al-Balagh), Mawlana Muhammad Ishaq Jehlami (who is currently a teacher in Daraja ʿUlya and serves as the manager of the students’ hostel in Dar al-ʿUlum) and Mawlana Mehtab (who, MashaAllah, is one of the prominent scholars in his region and an active member of the Tablighi Jamaʿat). Some of them (second-year students) would study certain subjects from me outside the regular madrasa hours, and later, some of their lessons, such as Maqamat Hariri, were also assigned to me to teach.

The books we were assigned to teach advanced each year. Both of us brothers were highly enthusiastic about teaching and preparing for the lessons. When we returned to our rooms, even during meal times, our conversations would often revolve around the key points of the books we were teaching, the overall state of the students, and suggestions on how to make our teaching as effective as possible. Even though Dar al-ʿUlum had largely retained its desert lifestyle – after becoming teachers, many caring students insisted on taking upon themselves certain tasks that we used to handle ourselves previously, such as fetching kerosene for lanterns and stoves, or purchasing other necessities. However, our immersion in teaching and fatwa work was so deep that the hardships of this desert life became pleasant for us. Even during our leisurely strolls after ʿAsr in the nearby gardens, our discussions would usually center around some aspect of our lessons.

It was during those days that one night after preparing for lesson etc., I was feeling a bit fatigued. Hadhrat Mawlana Shams al-Haq (may Allah have mercy on him) also came to our room. It was a moonlit fourteenth night of the lunar month, so we all decided to go outside for a walk. Thus, brother Rafiʿ, Hadhrat Mawlana Shams al-Haq, Hakim Musharraf Husayn, and I set out for a stroll. Since on moonlit nights the desert appears more scenic than gardens, we headed westward. At that time, there were no buildings or structures in that direction, all the way to the sea. Under the vast spread of moonlight, the cool sand felt very pleasant. Engrossed in conversation, we wandered so far that Dar al-ʿUlum’s buildings faded into the distance until they were no longer visible. After walking a little further, we spotted the figure of a man who had been standing still in the distance for quite some time. We were astonished —why would someone be standing still in the middle of the desert at this hour of the night? Nonetheless, we gradually moved closer to him, only to see that he was holding a rifle. As soon as he noticed us from afar, he took position, aimed the rifle in our direction, and in a high-pitched voice commanded: “Stop right there!” We stopped in our tracks, while he began advancing towards us. As he drew closer, we saw that he was dressed in a military uniform. The sight of his uniform gave us some reassurance that he was not a bandit. However, he took position a short distance ahead of us, standing at a slight angle, and asked: “Who are you? And what are you doing here at this time of the night?” We responded: “There is a Dar al-ʿUlum located at some distance from here to the east. We are teachers there and ended up here while taking a walk.” After questioning us for a while, he accepted our explanation. Once he was satisfied that we were unarmed, he lowered his rifle and then sat down with us on the sand and began conversing.

Upon our questioning, he informed us that his name was Major Sultan and that he was a Major in the army. He explained that some sensitive pipelines passed through this area and that he had been assigned to guard them. Within a short time, the respected Major became friendly with us. He told us that his hometown was Chakwal, and that he had met Mawlana Qadi Mazhar Husayn (may Allah have mercy on him) as well. We invited him to visit Dar al-ʿUlum, and indeed, he later came several times. He had also given us his phone number.

A long time after this incident, when Dar al-ʿUlum’s four walls had been completed and its gates installed, it so happened that some people who harboured malice towards Dar al-ʿUlum incited certain individuals from Sharafi Goth against it, saying: “Dar al-ʿUlum has blocked your route to Korangi by constructing its boundary walls.” (Even though a passage for them existed along Dar al-ʿUlum’s eastern wall, which, in fact, was shorter for them). Misled by these provocations, some armed men from among them launched an attack on the northern gate, opened fire on it, and attempted to break through. As I was returning from Maghrib prayer, I witnessed a commotion at the gate. The sound of continuous hammering against the gate could be heard, and gunshots were also being fired. At that moment, I called Major Sultan Sahib. He responded: “I am nearby and will arrive shortly.” At that time, we had acquired a license for some firearms for Dar al-ʿUlum’s security, and had also given a pistol to the security guard. Seeing this situation, and with my permission, he advanced towards the gate and fired a shot in the air. At the sound of the gunshot, the intensity of the attack subsided somewhat. Just then, Major Sultan arrived in his military vehicle. Not only did he disperse the crowd, but he also lodged a complaint with the elders of the Goth about those responsible. As a result, the elders of the Goth later came to Dar al-ʿUlum, expressed their regret over the incident, and a plan for the future was mutually agreed upon. Alhamdulillah! After this event, relations between Dar al-ʿUlum and the residents of the Goth were never strained again.

Major Sultan played a pivotal role in this entire episode. This is the same Major Sultan who is known today as Colonel Imam, the man who later rendered outstanding services in the Afghan Jihad against Russia. We remained in contact during those days and also met in Kandahar. Our last meeting took place in Rawalpindi. But alas! In the end, this brave warrior was declared a spy by the Pakistani Taliban, and they brutally shot him and martyred him. إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعُونَ[2]

This wilderness world of ours would sometimes serve as a source of recreation for those who had grown weary of the hustle and bustle of city life. Thus, our brothers, relatives, and friends would occasionally visit us to spend some time in this tranquil atmosphere—and in this way, we too would get the opportunity to enjoy their company.

On one such occasion, some friends of my honourable brother, Hadhrat Mawlana Mufti Muhammad Rafiʿ (may Allah grant him a long life), came to spend the night. After ʿIsha, a camel cart was rented, and it was decided to go to the shore of Korangi Creek. The moon of the fourteenth was shining in all its brilliance, draping the vast desert landscape in a radiant blanket of moonlight as far as the eye could see. Amidst the waves of desert dunes, the camel trotted along in its carefree stride. In this mesmerizing atmosphere, one of Bhai Sahib’s friends began reciting a poem about the moonlight in a captivating and melodious voice, which further enhanced the enchantment of the moment. After spending the night at Korangi Creek, we returned early the next morning.

Our elder brother, Hadhrat Muhammad Zaki Kaifi (may Allah have mercy on him), was himself a distinguished poet and had close friendships with many of the renowned poets of that time. On one occasion, the late respected Jigar Muradabadi was visiting Karachi, while Bhai Jan was also in Karachi. On the instructions of our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him), he invited Jigar Muradabadi to spend a night at Dar al-ʿUlum. On this occasion, he also invited some of Karachi’s most esteemed poets. Thus, as evening fell, along with Jigar Muradabadi, Mahir al-Qadri, Adib Saharanpuri, and Tabish Dehlwi (may Allah have mercy on them all) arrived at Dar al-ʿUlum. Our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) had arranged a dinner for these honoured guests in the oldest building of Dar al-ʿUlum, which we used to call “Purana Bangla”(old bungalow). After dinner, a poetry gathering took place. Hadhrat Jigar Muradabadi (may Allah have mercy on him) recited two of his Ghazals in his distinctive melodious voice, and their echoes, in his very tone, still resonate in my ears to this day:

بے تاب ہے، بے خواب ہے معلوم نہیں کیوں؟
دل ماہئ بے آب ہے، معلوم نہیں کیوں؟
دل آج بھی سینے میں دھڑکتا تو ہے، لیکن
کشتی سی تہِ آب ہے، معلوم نہیں کیوں؟
ساقی نے جو بخشا تھا بصد لطف و بہ اصرار
وہ جرعہ بھی زہراب ہے، معلوم نہیں کیوں؟

Translation:

It is restless, it is sleepless, I do not know why
My heart is like a fish out of water, I do not know why
My heart still beats within my chest, but
Like a ship sunken beneath the waves, I do not know why
The sip that the cup-bearer bestowed with such grace, such insistence
Even that now tastes like poison, I do not know why

And the following Ghazal:

نغمہ ترا نفس نفس، جلوہ ترا نظر نظر
اے مرے شاہدِ حیات اور ابھی قریب تر
عرض و نیاز عشق کا چاہۓ اور کیا صلہ؟
میں نے کہا بہ چشمِ نم، اُس نے سُنا بہ چشمِ تر

Translation:

Your melody flows with every breath, your radiance graces every gaze.
O the one witnessing my life! Come even nearer to me
What more can one ask in return for the pleas and devotion of love?
I spoke with moist eyes; he listened with tearful eyes.

Other poets also recited their poetry. Then, when Bhai Jan informed them that our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him) was also a poet, everyone insisted that he also recite his poetry. Thus, Bhai Jan recited two Persian Ghazals composed by our respected father (may Allah have mercy on him).

The first Ghazal was:

دیوانہ خوشتر است، نہ فرزانہ خوشتر است
کانانکہ خواست جلوۂ جانانہ خوشتر است
زاہد! مبیں حقیر گدایانِ عشق را
انفاسِ شاں ز سُبحۂ صد دانہ خوشتر است
دیدی کہ رنج ہاۓ جہاں را کنارہ نیست
پس با منے بہ گوشۂ کاشانہ خوشتر است
خوش درسِ علم و شغل فتاوي بہ دیوبند
لیکن شبے بہ خانقہِ تھانہ خوشتر است[3]

Translation:

Neither the mad lover is superior, nor the wise one,
Rather, the kind that the Beloved desires is the best
O ascetic! Do not look down upon the beggars of love
For their breaths are worth more than a rosary of a hundred beads
You have seen that the sorrows of this world have no end
So for me, retreating to the solitude of my humble dwelling is far better
Teaching sacred knowledge and issuing fatawa in Deoband is better
Yet, a single night in the Khanqah of Thana (Bhawan) is better still

Hadhrat Jigar Sahib was delighted with every verse of this Ghazal, and would spontaneously express his admiration at each line. The second Ghazal was:

بگزر زمن کہ حالت زارم نہ دیدہ بہ
بگزار حال من کہ ہمیں ناشنیدہ بہ
چشمت اگر رود بتماشاۓ غیر دوست
زیں گونہ دیدہا، بخدا، کور دیدہ بہ
ناکندنی ست در رہِ محبوب خارِ پا
کیں خارِ عشق در رگِ جانم خلیدہ بہ

Translation:

Leave me, for my wretched state is better not seen
Ignore my plight, for it, too, is better not heard
If your eye goes to behold anyone other than the Beloved,
By God, compared to such sights, it is better for the eyes to be blind
A thorn in the foot upon the path of the Beloved cannot be removed
For this thorn of love lodged deep within my soul’s vein is better

[1] Hadhrat Mufti Saheb passed away on Nov 18, 2022 (V)
[2] Translator: We certainly belong to Allah, and to Him we are bound to return.
[3] Both Ghazals have been included in full in our respected father’s (may Allah have mercy on him) poetry collection, “Kashkol”. Only a few couplets have been reproduced here.

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