Following interview of Husainibhai Abdultyeb Sikora, Pune, by Mudar Patherya
In 1984, I was stationed by the Thapar Group in Sidorja (Indonesia) as the finance man to oversee their paper manufacturing assets in that country. Around that time, Huzurala was passing through the region and I casually mentioned this coincidence to Mr Makkar, our general manager. Suddenly he straightened and asked: “Apne mill ki machines pe kisine jadoo-tona kar diya hai. Kya aapke guruji apne machines ko theek kar sakte hai?”
It must have been the conviction in my voice; even though Mr Makkar was scheduled to leave for Germany to negotiate the purchase of another round of machines, he delegated the exercise to invite Huzurala for a plant visit to his wife. I squirmed; Mr and Ms Makkar probably thought that it was simple enough to ask a guruji to casually come to the factory and ‘cleanse’ its spirit; I knew this would be virtually impossible given Huzurala’s schedule, the pressure of the local jamaat to utilize every minute of his stay in their city and my relative anonymity within that jamaat. I kept my mouth shut after that. But my luck ran out; the local newspaper carried a report on Huzurala’s arrival and thereafter, Ms Makkar called to ‘instruct’ me to get Huzurala to the plant. Instruct!
I was stuck. I resolved to seek help from a certain Muzaffarbhai who belonged to the local jamaat. Since he had been allocated a room at the Hotel Elmi for effective ikraam and intezaam (where Huzurala was also staying), I called him. The reception connected me. I heard the phone lift and a voice at the other end answer: “Hu Burhanuddin waat kari rahyo chhu!”
The first second I was confused. And then it struck me. God!
I stuttered. I stammered. In a breathless sentence – probably the fastest I have ever delivered - I told Huzurala about the ‘possessed’ machine. I told him about Mr Makkar. I told him about Ms Makkar. I told him about their faith in his ability. Then silence. Then Huzurala replied slowly: “Tamey Abbasbhai ne olkho chho? Aajey ehni ziaafat chhey. Eh bairo ne saat waagey layi aavjo!”
I floated back to my office.
That evening we rolled out the company’s Mercedes, drove across 8 kms and reached at 7.05 pm. As I entered the doorway looking for Abbasbhai with the introduction that Huzurala had asked me to be present, I encountered something unusual; I noticed a number of people saying hurriedly ‘Husainibhai ne bolaavo!’ and ‘Yahaan Husainibhai kaun chhey?” Huzurala had left word!
When we went in, Ms Makkar thought I would swing my magic and Huzurala would immediately say yes. I brought her down to earth; I said in all probability, I would be ineffective in doing anything but if she tendered the request and stuck to it, there could still be some hope. And sure enough, Huzurala rightfully indicated an acute paucity of time – he was in Surabaya for only two days. But now that Ms Makkar had seen the presence value that this guruji possessed, it was going to take a giant to budge her from her request. Ms Makkar pleaded with her hands folded, she touched Huzurala’s feet and then when nothing worked, bent and caught hold of Huzurala’s knees without letting them go. Ekdum ari gayi.
Finally, Huzurala consented. He would visit our factory after the ziyafat en route to Elmi Hotel. And so it happened: Huzurala arrived at the paper factory, the production manager who had no faith in godmen (naastik) took one look at Huzurala and pronounced ‘farishta’, Huzurala was led to the ‘possessed’ machine, recited a dua and then told me “Kaaley airport aavi ne taavaaz lejo aney machine na chaar corner par mukjo; kaaley 1.52-ey Imam Husain na niyaaz no halwo banaavjo and worker-o ney jamaarjo!”
I escorted Huzurala back to the hotel. He told me: “Aa company ne na mukjo!”
The next day, I received the taveez at the airport, it was placed just where I had been instructed and gradually, the large paper machine turned less temperamental. As machine expenditure declined and production increased, it started generating profits for the unit and company. Mr Makkar returned and was taken ill, dictated a letter for shifaa to Huzurala in India, was asked to do sadaqa and thereafter improved. Word reached LM Thapar, our chairman in India, and he is reported to have said, “Mujhe bhi ek taveez mangva do!”
And to think that none of these momentous things would have happened had it not been for an incompetent receptionist at Elmi Hotel who unthinkingly transferred a call for Muzaffarbhai to Syedna Mohammed Burhanuddin Saheb!
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