travelogue

This is a most rewarding and unusual experience of travel and I must write something.

With feelings of apprehension and uneasiness I started my journey for my " Janam-bhoomi" (Birth place) Skipping my experience via Pakistan where I am quite familiar going and coming etc. for the past 40+ years I started from Lahore for Dehli (Yes I am going to spell it like this and not like the English people) The flight was good with clear skies and in less than an hour I landed at that famous city (Indira Gandhi International airport) I may not be familiar with the whole history but there are these twin cities "Nai Dilli" (New Dehli) and "Purani Dilli" (Old Dehli). I had gone through the Google earth to view this city but could not really see what it would mean to be there in person. It has been ran-sacked by many a Kings and Emperors in the past and it was soon after one such destruction of the city when a poet of high stature was asked to present his poem in another city and because his clothes were dishevelled and he did not look great there may have been some comments which he disliked so he gave an extempore couplet like this:
Kia bood-o-bash poocho ho poorab kay saakino
humko ghreeb jaankay hans-hans pukar kay
Dilli jo ayk shahr tha aalam main intikhaab
rahtay thay muntakhab he jahan roozgaar kay
usko falak nay loot kay veeran kar dia
hum rehnay waly hain usee ujday dayar kay
There was so much uproar and appreciation after that so he could present his poem.
And of course they tried to get him back on stage, he would not come again.
Well I had the most apprehension there would be nobody to recieve me though I had expected a Mr. Shaheen-ur-Rahman to see me. As I got out and saw people standing waiting for the newcomers I found nobody of the Shaheen kind so I sat down wondering where he would be.
Perplexed what to do next wandering here and there not getting out of the airport I was approached by somebody and I got ready to be robbed. He was kind to ask who was I looking for and I did have the telephone number so he offered his cellphone (called mobile in the rest of the world) He talked with Shaheen who was out side and he started taking me out. Now,
I have marked degree of hearing loss so I did not hear what he said but started following him still worrying and wondering what was going to happen.
As we got out I saw many people standing waiting for their loved ones and Shaheen saw me and waved. (Mery jaan main jaan aayi). I wanted to pay the fellow who helped me and so I thanked him and offered him a five-rupee note that he declined (Not knowing why, I made no further attempts).
I had cashed some dollars and pounds into Indian money that I saw for the first time
(All Gandhiji as opposed to all Quaid-e-Azam of Pakistan) You see this was the first time after more than sixty two years that I was in India.
I reflected some on these pics the two great leaders of the subcontinent being honored like this which brought back some of my memories of early Pakistani money, the coins and the notes (bills) how it felt to be in the newly created Pakistan and the jubilations and mourings etc. associated with all the riots and killings of innocent people. The horrors of independence, the price being paid? in the blood of the innocents. No leader had anticipated that.
Well it did not take long for me to get into the logistics of getting 'home' with Shaheen he is the nephew of Dr. Shamimur-Rahman of Raleigh and son of Dr. Mujeebur-Rahman a retired physician living in Dehli in modern-like appartments of Dehli. Our van reached through all kind of kachcha and pucca roads the gates of the building were locked and were opened for us (Security) Dr. Mujeeb told me about 80% of residents in these apartments are Muslims.
I was new for Dr. Mujeeb and his family but they were awefully kind people who put me up for the night and fed me etc. Next day we had some time before my flight to Bhopal so we decided to go to visit just one place- Jamia Masjid Dehli.
We started from home and found many cycle and motor-cycle rickshaws. This was my very first confrontation with human-powered rickshaw (other than what I had observed in movies and photographs) and Mujeeb saheb asked me to get on the cycle-rickshaw (quite in a matter of fact way) ,so, with a slight degree of hesitation that went un-noticed by him I helped myself on it and then Mujeeb saheb also got on and the skinny fellow started cycling while I was wondering how much he earns like this and I saw many others like him with even three people sitting. I am glad that this rickshaw is prohibited in Pakistan.
We got to the "Dwarka" station of the new underground of Dehli, neat and clean and very modern indeed. We got off at the "Chandni chowk" station, there was that familiar rush of people here and we got out to get another cycle rickshaw to get to the Masjid and on our way I saw the the famous Lal Qila (red fort) from outside, and snapped a quick photograph.
Smaller version of the badshahi mosque of Lahore with the domes less clean and frequented more by the ever present pigeons. There was one marble platform made (where the "sehn" begins) elevated, was it for the king?, I dont know.
I bought Khuffain (Leather mozay) at this masjid as the leather was written to be "Kaanpuri" (For those who dont know, Kaanpuri leather is legendary)
Flight to Bhopal was uneventful. Jet airways have good courteous staff of handsome stewards (sardaars possibly because I saw a Kada on one hand) While wondering who would be there to recieve me I had no idea they were all there and were all just as excited to see me as I was when I saw my old friend Haleem. There was his son, Ishaq's son from Sagar and Apa Ahmadi, almost 80 year old with an enrgy of 50 year old and sharp lady, widow for forty years (Sajjad bhai from Kalay phupha had died of TB perhaps) She let me know in no uncertain terms, I was to stay with her and "Bhabi wabhi naheen chalaiga (Because I called her bhabi), main behen hoon, tum maray bhai ho" Told me she had been praying for some brother to come to see her. She would have carved out my whole program had I not interrupted her that I needed to see my friend in Sagar also. Poor Haleem could not force his friendship with me at all, and had to agree to Ahmadi apa as I started callimg her and Shahid (Jakkoo's son) called her great Baji.
I had spray lotion for the mosquitos that helped. After breakfast we started for the train to Bina Junction where I was recieved by the other brothers of Shahid and we spent the night in Bina. I met Dr. Bansi and visited his clinic in the evening a nice place for the patients along with XRay, Lab and such facilities, his wife being Ob-gyn. Bansi was a Gwaliar graduate and has expressed his keen-ness to meet with me. I made it to the grave of My friend and playmate and bhateeja in relation, may be a year older than me, S. Zakir Ali (Jakkoo).
Zakir had always written to me in very hindi type English when he was a foreman in the railways. Before his death he had visited Pakistan and talked to me on phone inviting me to India. I was just too late to get to India, May his soul be blessed by Allah.
Next day finally the train got me to Saugor (That is the way the English spelt it and the station name was spelt like that still, and now you know my blog name spelling) The boys got me in the rickshaw and we were at the "Sabhlok" hotel that was OK for me for two days (770 rupees). It was within walking distance of the Jamia Masjid so I could pray there Fajr namaz daily. Talked with the Imam and the masjid committee people who told me the Masjid had lot of property in addition to "our house" and lot of rental income etc. so I did not need to give any donation but I told them I can help whenever there is need and left my address and phone number with them. They had heard of my father's name but were all younger than me so they had not actually seen him or met him who was instrumental in converting that masjid into Jamiah masjid. The humble beginnings of that mosque were started by somebody "Khuda Bakhsh" in 1801)
I visited our old house inhabited by some tenants, took some pictures of the old kitchen, the roof some rooms each with so many memories for me etc. It will have to be a separate story.
Visit to the "Talaab", the body of water, not used for anything now but the ghaat where I first learnt my swimmimg with the help of Afzal Bhaijan, I had to visit
I walked after next Fajr through the "Katra" bazaar remembering all the events of my childhood, my schools, "teen-Batti" (even though now there is only one batti) and up to the 'kotwali' and back. While standing with Shahid and talking about my fifth grade school somebody overheard and came over to introduce himself that he was also a graduate of the school in 1956. I told him I was in that school in '44. Then Shahid told him I was the son of Maulvi Charaghuddin. He became excited, "I used to deliver milk in their house when I was little, I am Madan Gopal" and made a warm handshake.
I visited with my old classmate Ishaq and was surprised by another person "Faizul-Islam" who told me he was also my classmate and we talked about our old teachers (Jumman Janabji and Master Razzaq) and those days of primary classes.
Thus ended my visit to my birth place after an interval of more than 62 years. Reminds me of this persian couplet:
Haif der chashm-e-zadan suhbat-e-yaar aakhir shud
Roo-e-gul sair nadeedaim o bahaar aakhir shud
(Woe! the visit with my friend ended in a blink's time: we had not had enough fragrance of the flower yet ,(Not seen the face enough- actual wording) and the spring time ended.)
Was in Bhopal for the next two nights in a hotel and visited my friend Haleem and of course Ahmadi Apa and her daughter etc. Haleem's was quite a story of how he struggled after partition to educate himself to be a qualified lawyer. They were all at the airport again to see me off for Dehli.
I had never imagined I will have so many loving friends and relatives of mine who were saying goodbye with tears in their eyes. I also knew in my heart, it was the last time I will be seeing them though they kept asking me to come back with my family again. How would I make another plan for such an undertaking?