Huzurala is presently in Calcutta and my mind goes back to a remarkable instance of His humility when He was last in the city some 23 years ago.

 

Aqa Maula was going from Calcutta to the sea resort of Digha for tafreeh. En route he was passing Kharagpur, when He suddenly asked if there was a moomin’s house in the vicinity. Since the person present in the car was clueless, Aqa Maula pointed and said, ’Eh taxi driver ne poochho ki yahaan koi moomin rahe chhe ke nahi.’

 

The moment this taxi driver saw Huzurala’s topi, he nodded that one of your community called Taherbhai lives here (everyone knew my husband as ’gaanewale’ in Kharagpur because of his voice!). Maula then asked the driver to tell the taxi driver to sit inside the car and guide them to our residence. The car had barely reached our residence when our landlord started shouting: “Bhagwaan aaye hai, bhagwaan aaye hai!”

 

It was late afternoon. We had fed our children lunch, were putting them to sleep and had walked into the verandah for some work when I saw someone familiar down below – Aqa Maula! I shouted ‘Taher!’ by reflex action. He somehow got the import of what I was trying to convey; he ran down in lungi-kurta and without topi. And this is what happened: Aqa Maula and Shehzada Malik-ul-Ashtarbhaisaheb had already proceeded up the stairs and were face to face in these ajeeb-o-gareeb circumstances with an oddly-dressed Taher.

 

Maula asked me immedately: “Aa tamaru ghar chhey, ben?” I said “Ji saab, aa maaru ghar chhey.” Maula entered our humble dwelling, we made an arrangement for him to sit and Maula said, ”Namaaz no waqt chhey, namaaz padhvi chhey, haath dhovaa chhey.”

 

There was a well below our house, so we despatched our nephew to fetch some water with the cautionary line – ”Dekhna ki paani paak rahe!” – and then we washed Maula’s hands. Maulana then said, ”Garam-garam roti maara waaste banaavjo!” and then set about hurriedly preparing lunch.

 

Maulana offered his namaaz. We shut all the doors and windows. There was only Maulana, myself, Taher and my small daughter Jumana. Maulana offered his namaaz and then walked to each window and door to open them. During this while, Syedi Mazoon Saheb’s car rolled into our locality, the door opened, he walked out and into our building. 

 

Maulana asked ‘Jamwa ma su chhey?’ Taher sent off our nephew for eggs from the local market. All the shops were closed, so he went off elsewhere and lunch kept getting delayed.  That is when Maulana asked, ‘Tamein dopehre su jamo chho?’ Taher replied, ‘Daal, chaawal aney aloo ni sabzi’.  Maula said ‘Eh layi ne aavo !’ And then Huzurala  sat around our small thaal, had this poor man’s lunch and then called for the food that was inside their car. I would have thought that they would have asked for that to leaid out as well ; instead, Huzurala did something touching; He handed over al the fruit and food from the car to Taher saying, ‘Aana upar tamaaru haq chhey, aa tamein layi lo !’

 

During this while, more cars rolled in. Following lunch, when Maulana requested for tea. I took Taher aside telling him there was little sugar at home, all the shops were closed and what should I do? The whispers must have reached Maulana; He called us and asked us to present the jar in which the sugar was kept, he recited shifaa on it and said ‘Aa chini ne dabba ma nakhi dao !’ Mojezaa yeh hua ke hamare sirf  ½ kg chini se humne 80 logon ki chai banayi aur Maula aur Mazoon Saheb ke liye coffee!

 

Then came problem number two. There were only Rs 55 for Maulana’s salaam at home. Our children sat around Maulana’s chair telling him about the school playground on the other side of the verandah etc etc. When I asked my choldren to move away from the chair (I felt they were troubling Huzurala), He interrupted ’Bacchao chhey, rehva do!’.

 

The rest of the Digha entourage slowly started leaving; Huzurala sat in our residence for another half-hour, thren Maula told Taher: ’Mein tamara si raza lav chhu, tamne je aapva nu hatu, yeh aapi deedhu’. Ater a good four hours, Maula decsceded our humble stairway. At the bottom I caught hold of Maula’s feet and said, ’Aap Maula jyaare Digha si phirso to mara ghar par phari si tashreef raakhjo! Maula ne kaha ki Taher ko Digha bhejo. Taher Dighe gaye aur wahaan Maulana ko daawat diye ghar pe aane ki.

 

It was afternoon again when Huzurala passed Kharagpur. And once again Maula came unannounced. Taher was out somewhere and could not be reached. When he walked back home he was surprised to find a crowd of mumineen outside our residence. He walked inside to find Huzurala home. Maula ne namaaz hamaare gareeb ke ghar - ghar mein na bichhona, na paisa - par dubaara aakey padhi. When Maula left our residence a number of people said that we should have requested him for financial assistance. I replied, ’Maula ki dua hi hamaare liye bahut hai.’

 

At that time my name was Kaneeza; Maula said, ’Kaneeza naam nahi, Tasneem naam aapu chhu’ and then wrote my name!

 

This then is our story.

 

 

Copy ends