Tag Archives: Muslims of Uttar Pradesh

Jalna’s first Muslim doctor still tends to homegrown cotton crop

Dadhegaon (Jalna District) , MAHARASHTRA :

Dr Shaikh Yunus in the I.C.U of King George’s Medical University, Lucknow

Dr Shaikh Yonus, a Senior Resident in the Cardiology department of the prestigious King George’s Medical University, Lucknow, is the first Muslim doctor from the Jalna district of Central Maharashtra. He completed his MBBS degree in 2015.  

This is no small accomplishment for this cheerful 34-year-old doctor who studied in a village school till Class X. His father even borrowed money to fund his medical education. 

Shaikh grew up sowing cotton with his father Khudbuddin and elder brother Aslam in their four-acre land in Dadhegaon in Jalna district.  

As a schoolboy, he remembers his relatives insisting that he be sent to a Madrasa along with their children. But Shaikh wanted to attend a regular school and his father respected his wish. He was always drawn to the science stream and chose his career path when he was in Class X. 

Shaikh says that in his backward village of 800 people there was hardly anyone holding a high post. “Thankfully, my seniors in school had become career-minded and some become teachers. They inspired me to focus on my ambition.’’ 

Shaikh struggled against all odds and cracked the Medical college entrance test.

Dr. Yunus says, “It was a huge struggle. My father who passed away in August 2022, at the age of 62, was a cotton farmer. Because of the challenges that cotton farmers face in Maharashtra, he was on the brink of starvation. We are four siblings – two brothers, and two sisters. In 2008, my father’s annual income was Rs 30,000. It was difficult for him to pay Rs 3000 for my monthly room rent and living expenses for a year and annual fee of Rs 12,000 for professional coaching in Aurangabad for entrance examination of the medical college.”

Shaikh’s coaching cost Rs 50,000 per year. His father even took a loan of Rs 30,000 to fund his coaching.

This promising cardiologist says students in the village aspiring to study after Class X had to move out. So did Yunus. He then began studying in Ambad Taluk, 20 kilometres away from home, for Class XI and XII.   

Although Shaikh managed to get an annual minority scholarship of Rs 25,000 for his six-year MBBS course in Government Medical College, Nagpur, he still had to depend on his father for Rs 3000 every month to meet his living expenses.

Looking back at his struggle, he says, “My father had limited means. Saving money to marry my sisters and having to set aside Rs 2000 for my fee was a huge challenge but he never let it bother me. The annual fee for MBBS was Rs 18,000. The annual hostel fee was Rs 4000. The remaining amount was spent on buying books. I still had to depend on Rs 2000 every month from my father. I could hardly afford to travel to my village. I was homesick but meeting my family members was a luxury. So, once in six months, I would take a 16-hour long journey by train to meet my family.’’ 

Shaikh’s first earning came after the final year of MBBS at Government Medical College in Nagpur. “During the year-long internship, the government was paying us Rs 6000 a month. After this, I appeared in the NEET examination for MD in Medicine. I got 104th rank in the country. There were only 26 seats for MD in Medicine in Maharashtra. “I got a chance to pursue MD for three years in Government Medical College in Miraj near Pune. I completed MD in 2020,’’ he recalls. 

The competition for DM (Doctorate in Medicine) is even more difficult. Out of the 3,000 students who apply for DM in Cardiology every year, only one-tenth get through. KGMU admits only eight students every year after a nationwide selection. Dr Shaikh is among the eight doctors who was selected for DM in Cardiology in KGMU. 

Dr Yunus is the only doctor in his extended family. “My father studied till class X but he stood behind me like a rock. He was determined to do whatever he could to help me fulfil my dreams. My sisters who are now married, studied only till Class IV or V. My mother, Shaheen is a homemaker. She too hardly studied. My elder brother did his postgraduation in Hindi from Dr Baba Saheb Ambedkar University in Aurangabad but was not able to find a job. So, he took to cotton cultivation.’’ 

Although Dr Yunus is satisfied that his hard work helped him crack the examination, he deeply regrets that he was not able to save his father’s life last year. “I was on I.C.U. duty when I got a call from my family that my father was unwell. When I made a video call to the doctor who was attending to him in a private hospital, 50 km from my village home, I realized that he was critical. He had pneumonia.  I specialize in treating these diseases but I could not save his life. This is a lifelong regret.’’ 

Dr Shaikh Yunus (in the lab coat) going through the records of a patient in KGMU, Lucknow

Like most of his colleagues, Dr Yunus who is in the second year of DM, has unbelievable duties in the Cardiology department of KGMU. “The disease burden is huge and the number of patient consultations and admissions is huge. There have been times when my colleagues and I have come for duty on Sunday and left on Friday. On an average, we see 400 patients in OPD (Monday to Saturday) and 200 in emergency who are coming from all over the country and even Bhutan, Nepal and Saudi Arabia.’’ 

He also wishes that more young students from Jalna district would join the medical stream and become doctors. “ It has been eight years from the time I finished my MBBS but so far,  I have come across only two students from my district who were enrolled for MBBS courses in private universities in China or Russia. Only those students who are unable to crack the competitive examination in India, go there. I know how I have studied. I would sleep only five hours. ‘’ 

In February 2022, Dr. Yunus married Mahjabin, his junior who is now a surgical gynecologist in Bans-Bareilly in Uttar Pradesh. Dr. Yunus’ family who attended the wedding in Bareilly is extremely proud that their son and daughter-in-law are doctors. “ I first accompanied them on the train from Jalna to Delhi. That was the first time they saw the national capital. In so many years, that was the first time that they travelled outside the State. They enjoyed visiting Uttar Pradesh also. It was a 26-hour long journey.’’ 

Mahjabin who is working at Ram Manohar Lohia Institute of Medical Sciences in Lucknow is deeply appreciative of Dr Yunus’ struggle. “ When I visited my in-laws after my marriage and after my father-in-law’s demise, I felt that they were very proud of the fact that both of us are doctors.’’  

Dr. Yunus’s elder brother Aslam Shaikh is very proud of him. Aslam told this correspondent over the phone from his village “Other than my brother, no student from Jalna district has been able to get selected in competitive examination to enroll in MBBS.”

Aslam earns Rs 60,000 a year from cotton cultivation and supports a family of five. “I send my son, Arhaan Aslam Shaikh, 12 km away to study in an English medium school. My daughter, Jiya is only two and a half years old. I want them to become doctors like my brother and his wife. ”

After becoming a specialist, Dr Yunus has not forgotten his roots. He tends to his father’s farmland whenever he visits home. Ths doctor’s heart beats for the farmers of India.

source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home> Story / by Tripti Nath, Lucknow / March 24th, 2023

Why India Must Remember its First Muslim Jurist

Delhi, Mughal Period / Sitapur, British India:

The first Muslim judge of a high court in colonial times, Syed Mahmood’s professional conduct offers a counterpoint to the declining standards in Indian judiciary.

WHEN Justice Abdul Nazeer addressed the 16th national council meeting of the RSS-affiliated Akhil Bharatiya Adhivakta Parishad at Hyderabad last December, he said, “Great lawyers and judges are not born but made by proper education and great legal traditions, as were Manu, Kautilya, Katyayana, Brihaspati, Narada, Parashar, Yajnavalkya, and other legal giants of ancient India.” In the symposium on “Decolonisation of the Indian Legal System”, Justice Nazeer also said the “continued neglect of their great knowledge and adherence to the alien colonial legal system is detrimental to the goals of our Constitution and against our national interests…”.

Perhaps Justice Nazeer should have also recalled 19th-century jurist Justice Syed Mahmood (1850-1903). A pioneer in bold assertions against the colonial judiciary, he produced incisive legal commentaries that reflect an audacious dissenter’s point of view. Writing in an Urdu newspaper, his father, Sir Syed Ahmed Khan, narrates Mahmood’s resignation from the Allahabad High Court in 1893 to “protect the self-respect of Indians against the racism of British judges”.

In that era, conceptions of nationhood were still evolving in India. Indian judges would not muster the courage to contest the racism of the imperial power or fellow European judges. But Mahmood did, in intrepid ways. Khan founded the Mohammedan Anglo-Oriental (MAO) College at Aligarh in 1877 and figures prominently but contentiously, stereotyped as a British loyalist and separatist in debates on contemporary nationalism. Mahmood supported his father’s modern education project, but unfortunately, his contributions are largely ignored by historians and the legal fraternity.

By 1920, MAO College, now Aligarh Muslim University, was the most prominent residential university in the country. Its history department has been a premier centre for advanced studies for a half-century. In 1889, primarily on Syed Mahmood’s initiative and his gifts in terms of books, journals and cash, AMU established a law department. Yet, he was neglected in its research. Only in 1973, seven years after the centenary of the Allahabad High Court, the Aligarh Law Journal brought out Mahmood’s contributions, and legal scholars reflected on his high calibre as a lawyer and judge.

The good news is, in 2004, Alan M. Guenther did his doctoral thesis on Mahmood at McGill University, Canada, which is available online for the public to access. His meticulous and well-researched account touches almost every aspect of Mahmood’s public life. Guenther also published an extended essay in 2011on Mahmood’s views on English education in 19th-century India. (In 1895, Mahmood had written a book on the theme for his speeches at the Educational Conference.)

In 1965, Asaf Ali Asghar Fyzee (1899-1981) complained, “Syed Mahmood’s contributions to the transformation of Muslim law in India have been largely neglected by historians and survive primarily as footnotes in legal texts on Muslim law.” Guenther, too, observes, “…overshadowed by the life and writings of his illustrious father, Ahmad Khan, his legacy has not received the attention it deserves. A large part of his father’s achievements in the reform of education, in fact, would not have been possible without the assistance of Syed Mahmood. But when he reached the age at which his father had made his most significant achievements, [Mahmood] had his life cut short.”

Mahmood had laid out his life plans clearly. S. Khalid Rashid, writing in 1973, reports that Mahmood decided early on that, like his ancestors, he would devote the first third of his life to educating himself, the second to earn a living, and the last to “retired study, authorship and devotion to matters of public utility”. But Guenther writes about how Mahmood’s health had deteriorated through alcohol abuse and disease. He died before he turned 53, broken by forced retirement, estranged from his father (who had died five years previously), stripped of responsibilities at the college he had helped found, separated from wife and son, and in poverty. He was selling personal items to repay debts. “His father’s numerous writings and letters are still republished, but Syed Mahmood’s contributions to Muslim thought are hidden in bound volumes of the Indian Law Reports and brittle files of government correspondence,” Guenther writes.

One aspect of Mahmood’s last years is captured by Prof. Iftikhar Alam Khan’s Urdu books, Sir Syed: Daroon-e-Khana (2006, 2020) and the recent Rufaqa-e-Sir Syed: Rafaqat, Raqabat wa Iqtidar Ki Kashmakash. These accounts expose the smear campaigns of the three companion successors of Sir Syed—Samiullah, Mohsin-ul-Mulk and Viqar-ul-Mulk—against Syed Mahmood as they vied for the secretary’s post at MAO College. Often European members of MAO College conspired with them. Exploiting his weaknesses and eccentricities, they ousted him to get a hold over college affairs, compounding his hurt during his tragic final years.

SYED MAHMOOD’S ROLE IN SIR SYED’S EDUCATIONAL ENTERPRISE

Having returned to India in 1872 after studying in England, Mahmood took time out of his budding legal career to assist his father’s reform work, particularly setting up MAO College. He prepared a detailed plan along the lines of his experiences in Cambridge. His specific aim, explained in February 1872, was to produce future leaders of India through an educational institution whose residential nature would be “as indispensable an education as the course of study itself”. The aim was to create a society of students and teachers quite different from the rest of society.

He travelled with his father to Punjab in 1873 and spoke at a rally to promote the project. In 1889, Sir Syed introduced a motion to nominate Mahmood as joint secretary of the board of trustees of MAO College by highlighting his assistance despite the opposition he faced. In particular, he considered his son’s influence the primary factor that persuaded European professors to come to India and teach there.

European staff members confirmed this around six years later when there was renewed opposition to Mahmood continuing as joint secretary. The principal, Theodore Beck (1859-1899), testified, “Syed Ahmad….acknowledged his reliance on Syed Mahmood for advice in all matters, and his imprint could be noted in the correspondence relating to the school. He declared his firm conviction that Syed Mahmood was the one person who shared his vision for the college, and apart from him, no one would be able to administer the school in keeping with that vision.” However, Samiullah (1834-1908) disagreed with Sir Syed on this count. As a result, a tussle for power began in the college management. The power-play could explain why AMU felt inhibited in bringing out a biography of Mahmood, a research gap that Guenther’s doctoral thesis fills. He has extensively relied on important correspondences of Mahmood preserved in the London India Office (British) Library.

SYED MAHMOOD’S TRYST WITH MUSLIM LAW

Mahmood is a forgotten pioneer of the transformation of Muslim law in modern South Asia. In 1882, at just 32, he became the first Muslim judge of the high courts in British India. He delivered numerous landmark decisions that shaped Muslim law, the law in general, and its administration.

Earlier, he blazed a trail his younger contemporaries followed in their judicial roles in British India. He was one of the first Indian Muslims to study in England and train in the English system of jurisprudence, the first Indian to enrol as a barrister in the High Court of Judicature at Allahabad in 1872, the first appointed as a district judge in the restructured judicial system of Awadh in 1879 and the first Indian assigned as a puisne judge to the High Court at Allahabad. He was the first Muslim in any High Court of India. He cleared a path for Indian Muslims to participate in administering justice in India. But his contribution is not limited to creamy career opportunities for Muslim youngsters. His lasting legacy is how Muslim law is perceived and administered in South Asia today.

CHAMPION OF ACCESSIBLE JUSTICE

An abiding concern of Mahmood was the cost of administration of justice. Court procedures were lengthy and expensive, and the “mass of law” was complicated. Distance from courts was another concern, for which he proposed a network of village courts for “on-the-spot” adjudication. He sought to make justice accessible through unpaid tribunals and honorary munsifs. He prepared a comprehensive draft for this, Guenther informs.

Furthermore, he attacked the [racial] mindset and court fees and stamp duties on legal documents. He ruled in August 1884 and February 1885 that “…if justice costs the same amount [to the] rich and poor, it follows that the rich man will be able to purchase it, whilst the poor man will not.” He declared, more than once, that British judges in India were too quick to find fraud.

In a speech at the Allahabad Bar in April 1885, Mahmood raised the language issue in judicial transactions, saying laws should be in languages intelligible to the masses. He insisted on the vernacular in arguments, pleadings and justice delivery and translated verdicts so that people unfamiliar with English could rest assured that judgments are reasoned. Of course, the issue of judicial language continues to be debated, and for this, acknowledgement is due to Mahmood.

AN INDIAN DISSENTER IN THE HIGH NOON OF BRITISH COLONIALISM

Mahmood is known most for outstanding dissenting judgements. In volume 2 of his 2021 book, Discordant Notes, Justice (retd.) Rohinton F. Nariman writes that Mahmood was known for detailed judgments, some of which stand out for thoroughness and fearless language. Mahmood would refer to the original Sanskrit versions when ruling on Hindu laws and the Arabic texts for Muslim laws, rather than using interpretations of the relevant texts.

From the 1860s to 1880s, during the codification of laws, he sought limits on importing British laws and protested that the local context was getting overlooked. His concern was not just the laws but their efficacy and adaptability within India’s cultural diversity.

Guenther observes, “…throughout his life, he identified himself as a Muslim as well as an Indian and a subject of the British crown, and that he was actively involved in the education and improvement of the Indian Muslim community. At the same time, Mahmood… [made] efforts to promote harmony between people of diverse backgrounds, and…[supported] initiatives that improved the situation of all Indians, regardless of religious affiliation…”

An anecdote from Altaf Hali’s Hayat-e-Javed (1901), cited by Shamsur Rahman Faruqi (2006), is worth sharing. “Contrary to the culture of sycophancy and genuflecting before the English colonial authority….Syed Ahmad Khan and his high-profile and brilliant son Syed Mahmud strived to conduct themselves as if they were equal to the English….Syed Ahmad Khan had stayed away from the [1867 Agra] Durbar because Indians had been given seats inferior to the English. A medal was to be conferred on Syed Ahmad Khan at that Durbar. Williams, the then Commissioner of Meerut, was later deputed to present the award to Syed Ahmad Khan at Aligarh railway station. Willams broke protocol and showed his anger at having to do the task under duress and said that government orders bound him, or he wouldn’t be presenting the medal to Syed Ahmad Khan. Syed Ahmad Khan accepted the medal, saying he wouldn’t have taken the award, except that he too was bound by government orders.”

Indian democracy is an outcome of anti-colonial nationalism, and dissent is its core component: Mahmood’s dissent contributed to nationalism in his time. In 2022, the V-Dem Institute described India as an electoral autocracy where dissent is being criminalised, and the judiciary is failing to contain the majoritarian upsurge. Mahmood’s professional conduct is an encouraging counterpoint to the degeneration in the Indian judiciary.

WHAT DID MAHMOOD THINK OF THE INDIAN NATIONAL CONGRESS?

According to Guenther, though Mahmood never joined the Congress, he was “equally aloof” from the anti-Congress propaganda his father indulged in. “…a rare catholicity characterised his views on most of the controversial questions,” he writes. He adds, “His acceptance among the Hindus [elites] generally was demonstrated by the fact that they tried to send him as their representative to the Imperial Legislative Council, though he never received that appointment.”

Nonetheless, like his father, Mahmood harboured class and regional prejudices. Guenther reveals an article Mahmood wrote in The Pioneer on 4 September 1875, suggesting the government must strive to with the sympathies of the “higher classes of natives”. When challenged to defend his position by “Another Native” in the same newspaper two weeks later, Mahmood responded that people in Punjab and the North-western Provinces [now Uttar Pradesh] were, historically speaking, of “much greater political significance” than those of Lower Bengal. Gunther cites his write-up: “…any educational system that succeeded in ‘attracting the Bengalee and fail(ed) to exercise any influence upon the higher classes of the Rajpoot, the Sikh, and the Mussulman’ must be regarded as a failure.”

Considering the socio-regional composition of top functionaries of AMU, even impartial insiders would testify that it still harbours regional and sub-regional prejudices. The Sir Syed Academy is releasing many publications during the ongoing centenary celebration of AMU. Publishing Guenther’s dissertation may be a fitting tribute to Mahmood, who must be regarded as a prominent co-founder of MAO College.

Mohammad Sajjad teaches modern and contemporary Indian History at Aligarh Muslim University. Md. Zeeshan Ahmad is a lawyer based in Delhi. The views are personal.

First published by Newsclick.

source: http://www.theleaflet.in / The Leaflet / Home> History / by Mohammad Sajjad and Zeeshan Ahmad / April 01st, 2022

Saulat Abbas’s memoir: An authentic journey of a life from a UP village to Europe and Saudi Arabia

Bulandshahr, UTTAR PRADESH / SAUDI ARABIA :

Abbas said he wrote the memoir to enable his children to know their father better.

Saulat Abbas.

In a letter to his friend Thomas Poole, Coleridge wrote that any life, however insignificant, would if truthfully told, be of interest. There are two important points in Coleridge’s observation. One, that it is not important whether the subject of a memoir, biography or autobiography has lived a very eventful life and achieved great success, as any life can be a good enough subject for a book. Two, truthfulness in reporting events of life is an essential feature of a book chronicling a life. And because a memoir lies somewhere between history and literature, the element of selection, omission, foregrounding, and downplaying of events of life can all be part of a memoir.

An ordinary life

Saulat Abbas’s memoir Desi Boy starts with his modest admission about his ordinariness. He states that his purpose in writing his memoir is to let his children know him if ever they decide to know about their father. “Given all the uncertainties of life, if god decides to take me away before my kids are mature enough to care about who their father is, this book, I believe, will satisfy their curiosity.” While Abbas, whose two marriages did not last long, lives in Saudi Arabia alone, alternating between the gulf countries and his motherland India, his teen-aged son lives in Taiwan with his mother, and his daughter in Malaysia with her mother.

Abbas’s truthfulness in reporting various events of his childhood, adolescence and youth, some even projecting him in a very bad light if seen from some established ethical principles, is the most important feature of his memoir. It certainly must have been an important decision for him to decide which incidents should or should not be included in his memoir. Thus indoctrinated to believe that the punishment for theft is chopping off hands, he almost chopped off the hand of Khajya, his young playmate, with an axe for stealing marbles, injuring him badly enough to leave a cut on his hand.

There is certainly interesting material in his ordinary life: a Muslim boy living in an eastern UP village in a patriarchal set-up struggling with his education; his family moving to western UP town of Bulandshahr where his anglophile father taught English in a postgraduate college; his student days at Aligarh Muslim University; his dreams and his aimlessness finally taking him to Saudi Arabia and Europe where he feels that he has made it. More than the external events, it is his intellectual and spiritual development and his struggle with some ethical principles that make the book eminently readable.

Undoubtedly the most authentic portion of the book is his account of his early childhood in his mother’s village where he was exposed to village superstitions, rural-agricultural practices, Tom Sawyer-like antics of stealing hens and the rigidity of caste structure where, contrary to their religion, Muslim landowners maintained caste hierarchy very ruthlessly. The author narrates how he and his cousins caused a big scandal in his family when they attended a Dalit wedding to watch a nautanki. “As far as I can remember, perhaps, it was the first time that the Sayeds were going to attend a Dalit marriage ceremony, and all because of the fun of the nautanki.” The punishment for this transgression from the elders in the family was fierce: “we could not sit after the caning.”

The villagers believed in black magic, witchcraft and often consulted a mulla, rather than a doctor, when taken ill. Formal education in this set-up was a rarity, often available in a madrasa, and was the prerogative of landowners’ sons as the poor villagers were kept away from learning. “If they became literate, who would do the farming?,” Abbas wryly asks. Writing was done on a wooden board, a takhti, which needed the application of a film of fine clay called multani mitti. For the author the whole process of preparing his wooden board for writing and making reed pens with a sharp tip “was more interesting than writing or learning so we did it as slowly as possible,” till his teacher lost his temper.

Life in the village

Many characters in his account of village life stick in memory. The foul-mouthed, amoral, “ever-giggly-jiggly” Okida, who gives many “arse-spreading ideas” to the author, is also a woman full of practical wisdom. Harcharan, a farm worker in his sixties, not only narrates tales of his sexual exploits, he also gave the author lessons in little thefts like stealing milk right from “the cows’ udders.” The lower caste, good looking Sudhua, who was probably fathered by a zamindar for whom his mother worked, taught him lessons in farming and agriculture as also in the exploitative and unjust social order in his village.

“If any member of Sudhua’s community ever combed his hair or wore sandals or slippers, he would be castigated. In physical care and style they were not supposed to “emulate’ the zamindar.” Shammu Khan, the private tutor known for his strictness, also taught the author lessons in morality and power structure in the family. Granny Iqfa who came from Calcutta not only has many tales behind her but her writing of poems in Urdu and Persian when women hardly had any education, makes her even more interesting.

The break in his idyllic existence and a brief experience of uprootedness informs his description of his life in Bulandshahr, where his family moves. Up to his High School days, he describes, how his lack of interest in studies and attending school made him one of the slowest learners in his class. His teachers had unshaken belief in corporal punishment which he learnt the hard way and his classmates smelled of curry, putting him off from studies further. “In my mind, school had become synonymous with the Nazi concentration camps…teachers looked like demons.” The ruins of houses left behind by people who migrated to Pakistan after the partition became his hideouts where he would spend time with city urchins, learning bad language, playing marbles and smoking bidi. He also specialised in committing petty thefts with friends to finance his passionate love for Hindi films.

An important part of his growing-up years in the college premises where his father worked was his mingling with his Hindu neighbours. Religion was never an issue in his friendships, rather “we learned about one another’s faith, and learned stories that were at the foundation of our religious beliefs.”

One particular incident about hierarchical system of education stands out. As he became more serious about his career, he thought of exploring the possibility of getting admission in St Stephen’s College, New Delhi. However, so mesmerised and scared was he to see the dress, language and confidence of students and staff in the College, that he could not even gather courage to even talk to anyone in the College: “I returned to the bus station, got back home, and never told anyone how heroically the villager was defeated on his first trip to a real city.”

There are a plenty of interesting, funny, and humorous situations in the book which are enlivened by the author’s self-deprecating humour. Thus in watching Hindi films he and his friends felt aroused by Helen, Aruna Irani, or Jayshree, but “respected our heroines…and never cast a lascivious look at them. We thought our heroes had exclusive rights on those women.” He relates how his father’s application for a job in a university in Saudi Arabia and his own application for admission to a course were mixed up by the person handling them in Saudi Arabia because he had learnt to copy his father’s handwriting perfectly. When his father received a letter that he could not get admission to the said course he did not know “that his job prospects in Saudi Arabia were screwed up by his brilliant son.”

There appears a little bit of drama in the narrative when a boy from a lower-class family in his village who had left for Lucknow and later Bombay comes back to his village in style after making it big. It turns out that Rasheed, who made people believe that he was part of the author’s family, to gain respectability and social status, was an underworld don on the run, and the author’s house was the safest place to hide. Obviously the elders in his family had to do a lot of explaining to the police officers who followed Rasheed in the village.

Reproduction of village life, especially some rural Hindi slangs and swear words entailed problems of their translation in English. He uses expressions like “arse spreading remedy” to translate a familiar swear word in Hindi. The author’s wit makes the book very readable. The common practice in his village of keeping the heads of children shaved meant that “five or six little neo-Nazis of similar age, size, and shape often roamed the orchard. Abbas’s style of writing includes allusions to many literary works, often reflecting his study of English literature. Thus nights are dark “like Iago”, and a deserted house, called Chhaouni in the village, reminds him of the atmosphere in The Duchess of Malfi and The Fall of the House of Usher. His uses similes very liberally all through his texts, many of them are very original.

Memory has a very important role in a memoir. It can sometimes play tricks and at other times it can be put to selective uses. The author does not always mention dates or years in reporting many incidents of his life. An aware Indian reader can draw an inference about the time of the incidents but for others the author leaves a lot of work to do. Thus if the author saw Sholay 25 times, one can make out that he is talking about the year 1975. It would also have helped if he had used the names of schools he attended. His account of Aligarh Muslim University could have been longer. The elaborate rituals attending a death in the family and various forms of the expression of griefs are rites of passage for him. However, the description of Moharram, its significance in his formative years and description of many events in Islamic history take something away from the main narrative of the memoir.

All through the memoir the narrator uses a royal “we” to narrate events and experiences which, since it is a plural subject, sometimes feels awkward in the narrative, that is, “We brought a two-page long essay back to my father. He made millions of corrections and trimmed it well, and we memorised it by writing it many times to make sure we were not going to make a mistake on our exam.” In the same way the author uses a common Indianism “beef” to refer to buffalo meat, which in the present context is a very problematic expression. It should have been replaced either by buff or simply buffalo meat, the common Hindi expression for which is “bade ka ghosht.”

In all, Desi Boy is truly an authentic and interesting account of a life because it is truthfully rendered by Saulat Abbas.

Desi Boy, Saulat Abbas, StoryMirror.

source: http://www.scroll.in / Scroll.in / Home> Book Review / by Mohammad Asim Siddiqui / December 10th, 2022

Urdu Scientific Society felicitates Dr. Kausar Usman at Lucknow

Lucknow, UTTAR PRADESH:

At a meeting of the Urdu Scientific Society, attended by prominent Doctors of Lucknow, Dr. Kausar Usman of King George Medical University, Lucknow was felicitated for the honor he received as a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians, Edinburgh.

Presently working as a Professor of Internal Medicine at one of the prestigious medical institutions of India King George’s medical university, Dr. Usman is known for his expertise in the field of Medicine in general and Diabetes in particular. In 2016, Dr. Usman became the first Muslim Professor in the medicine department of King George’s Medical University, Lucknow.

Dr. Usman has participated actively in several national and international investigations and has a very solid foundation in research. Numerous national and international publications have published his work. He has more than 70 Publications to his name.

Prior to joining King George’s Medical University as a teaching faculty member, he worked in reputable medical institutions like Indraprasth Apollo Hospital in New Delhi.

In 2017, Dr. Usman had received a Fellowship Award FACP (Fellow of American College of Physicians) in San Diego, California.

Senior Urdu Scientific Society office bearers Padma Shri Dr. Mansoor Hasan, Maulana Khalid Rasheed, Dr. Iqtedar Farooqi, and Dr. Shakir Hashmi congratulated Dr. Usman for his extraordinary achievements.

source: http://www.muslimmirror.com / Muslim Mirror / Home> Indian Muslim> Positive Story / by Muslim Mirror Network / December 13th, 2022

Lucknow Diary: Innovation on a dozen wheels

Lucknow, UTTAR PRADESH :

Azamgarh:

With petrol prices increasing, Asad Abdullah conceptualised the idea of developing an electric cycle in which six people can be accommodated.

Image for representation purpose
Innovation on a dozen wheels by ITI-trained diploma engineer in electricals, Asad Abdullah. (Photo | EPS)

Innovation on a dozen wheels

All that innovation needs is a brilliant mind and passion coupled with the patience to apply it. Asad Abdullah, 22, of Azamgarh proved it by developing a 6-seater electric cycle. Asad’s innovation got recognised by none other than Anand Mahindra, chairman of Mahindra Group, who tweeted a small video of the cycle and made the innovation so viral that the video crossed 1 million views since December 1.

Mahindra tagged the chief design officer of the auto sector of his company asking if this device could find global application. With petrol prices increasing, Abdullah conceptualised the idea of developing an electric cycle in which six people can be accommodated.

He used scrap material and the motor of an old battery-operated. two-wheeler to develop the cycle in a month’s time at a cost of Rs ₹10,000-12,000. “I want to make it commercial and sell it to others at an affordable price,” says Asad Abdullah, an ITI-trained diploma engineer in electricals.

Lucknow touches zero covid mark

After a long span of 32 months, the city of Nawabs touched zero Covid figure mark as the last patient recovered from the ailment and no new case was reported, claim health authorities. The last patient who recovered and was discharged on Tuesday had tested positive last week. “This zero is a precious figure and we are making all efforts to sustain the status in Covid,” said Dr Manoj Agrawal, Lucknow CMO.

Lucknow has never had a status of zero Covid active cases since the 2020 pandemic. The first case in the state capital was reported in the third week of March 2020. Lucknow’s first Covid-19 patient was a doctor who returned from Canada. The second case reported was also that of a doctor and the third one was of a Bollywood singer Kanika Kapoor, who turned out to be a mass spreader after returning from the UK.

10 UP heritage sites up for adoption

UP Archaeological directorate has shortlisted 10 heritage sites up for adoption under the ‘Adopt Heritage Scheme.’ These sites include the Alambagh building of Lucknow, Potrakund in Mathura, Kalpa Devi and Astik Baba temples in Sitapur, Caves of Devgarh of Lalitpur, Raj Mandir Guptar Ghat in Ayodhya, Lakshmi temple in Jhansi, Fort of Tahrauli in Jhansi, Fort of Balabehat in Lalitpur, Digragarhi in Jhansi and Shiv temple of Bithoor in Kanpur.

Those interested in adopting the heritage site would be known as Smarak Mitra who would sign a memorandum of understanding (MoU) with the department and work towards the conservation of the site. Smarak Mitras will also be responsible for arranging logistics for the tourists at the site.

source: http://www.newindianexpress.com / The New Indian Express / Home> Nation / December 07th, 2022

‘Born a Muslim: Some Truths about Islam in India’ review: A sense of disillusionment

Agra, UTTAR PRADESH :

Ghazala Wahab explains what it is to be a Muslim, a member of the largest religious minority in India today, and why the community lives in fear as prejudices persist.

Soma Basu reviews Born a Muslim: Some Truths about Islam in India, by  Ghazala Wahab - The Hindu

The book opens with an unputdownable 42-page introduction that delves into the root of fear and despair among Muslims who have embraced the country as theirs but are polarised because of the identity they bear.

The shock and shame of communal riots, orchestrated mass violence and lynchings that served political agendas and led to societal divisions during the past decades hits you, as journalist Ghazala Wahab lays bare instances from her life.

Balanced narrative

She meticulously balances her narrative because she wishes to build a bridge of conversation. While she addresses fellow Muslims asking them to embrace modernity and be an integral part of positive change, she also alerts non-Muslim Indians about their perception of Muslims based on prejudice and hearsay, not facts.

Self-examining her own community members, she admits it never struck her how an average Muslim struggles to stay alive because she looked at things from her position of privilege. As she researched, she found equal opportunity and justice are only concepts and that law- making and law-enforcing agencies act in contradiction to vilify and stigmatise Muslims.

It is a vicious cycle, writes Ghazala, because the post-partition Muslims have remained an irrelevant votebank and sought security in their ghettos perpetuated by illiteracy, poverty and unemployment. The mullahs and clergy have easily taken them under their religious fold to exploit them. The general backwardness of the community has fed into a sense of loss of identity and unmet aspirations for Muslim youth, men and women.

Personal experience

In the mid-80s, Ghazala’s father shifted from their ancestral home in a middle class mohalla to an upscale Hindu-majority neighbourhood in Agra. His successful business and hobnobbing with the powerful, gave him the comfort of keeping his family under a security net. But that was till Agra was engulfed in violence post-kar seva after BJP leader L.K. Advani rolled out his rath yatra from Somnath to Ayodha in October, 1990, and was subsequently arrested. As sporadic violence spread across north India, Ghazala’s family wondered where they would be more secure — in their new neighbourhood or in a Muslim majority insulated mohalla.

Ghazala’s father called his brothers to safety and her mohalla uncles requested them to move back to the old Muslim locality. Ultimately everybody stayed where they were as fury was unleashed on their community everywhere. A young collegian then, Ghazala, her parents and three siblings were at home when an angry mob led by a neighbour shouted slogans, smashed windows, pelted stones and damaged their car. Desperate phone calls for help went unanswered.

When Ghazala’s father went to the police station to enquire about the adult males who were forcibly picked up from the mohalla during search operations, senior officials known to him avoided him. Those he thought had accepted him treated him as nothing more than a Muslim when it came to communal division. For Ghazala’s father it was not about being a victim but it was more about the humiliation, a betrayal of belief.

Turning point

Her family survived the riots but it left a scar. Her parents chose to go silent and it irked Ghazala that a victim should feel ashamed. She saw the same resignation and defeatist attitude when the Babri Masjid was razed. It unnerved her because she sensed it was a turning point not just for her family but for most Indian Muslims.

“Civility was the first casualty, replaced by communal prejudice and demonstrative religion,” she writes.

Many members in her extended family began to draw comfort from religious conservatism. She talks about a cousin who started wearing a headscarf and told her she was more comfortable with her Muslim friends as they didn’t have to pretend with one another, whereas to her Hindu friends she was a validation of their liberal outlook.

The conversation disturbed Ghazala as she never perceived two distinct identities in herself — a Muslim and an Indian. The issue was complex and so were several disparate questions.

Ghazala leans on poignant narration about the average Muslim being confused and scared through examples of those who have hidden their identity and reverted to Hinduism under perceived coercion. “They could never participate as equal partners in the country’s development. Only 2.6 per cent of Muslims are in senior-level jobs and a small number have achieved a reasonable upward mobility,” she writes.

On a positive note, Ghazala says Muslim society is changing. The protests against CAA/NRC in December 2019, she feels, has given rise to an assertive community even though her 1990 experience returned to haunt her in February 2020 when her paternal aunt’s family panicked as a mob reached their northeast Delhi colony. Anger and helplessness resurfaced when her aunt called her for help and her uncle refused to escape or abandon his life’s savings. The sense of fear doesn’t leave, she says.

Born a Muslim: Some Truths about Islam in India ; Ghazala Wahab, Aleph Book Company, ₹999.

soma.basu@thehindu.co.in

source: http://www.thehindu.com / The Hindu / Home> Books. Reviews / by Soma Basu / May 15th, 2021

Abdul Rahman wins 49th Sr National Carrom Championship

UTTAR PRADESH:

The less fancied 27-year-old Rahman dished out a cool calculated performance to outshine the experienced Pasha and smoothly cruise to a deserving 25-0, 21-16 without much ado.

Carrom nationals: Abdul Rahman wins men’s crown, Kajal Kumari takes women’s title. (credit :Twitter)

Mumbai: 

Unassuming sixth seed Abdul Rahman of Uttar Pradesh cornered all the glory recording an authoritative straight sets victory against international and fourth seed Zaheer Pasha of Reserve Bank of India (RBI) in the men’s singles final of the 49th Senior National Carrom Championship on Monday.

The less fancied 27-year-old Rahman dished out a cool calculated performance to outshine the experienced Pasha and smoothly cruise to a deserving 25-0, 21-16 without much ado and clinch his maiden crown in the national championship organised by the All-India Carrom Federation (AICF) and hosted by the Maharashtra Carrom Association (MCA).

In the women’s competition, international and fifth seed Kajal Kumari of PSPB (Petroleum Sports Promotion Board) overcame the spirited challenge from fourth seed Nilam Ghodke of JISL (Jain Irrigation System Limited) snatching victory in two closely-contested sets, 15-12, 17-10 to emerge champion.

Pasha, who had knocked out teammate and top seed Prashant More in the semi-finals, was erratic and surprisingly missed some easy shots which proved to be his downfall.

In contrast, Rahman played steadily and confidently executed his shots and gradually gained the momentum which he hung on to throughout the contest, which turned out to be a one-sided affair.

In the first set, Rahman settled down quickly and won the first six boards to pocket the set 25-0 and open up a 1-0 lead. Pasha showed signs of fighting back as he won the opening two boards to take an 8-0 lead in the second, but Rahman bounced back and steadily won the next three and with the eight points won on the fifth board he jumped to a 20-8 points lead.

Pasha managed to win four points in the sixth to narrow the lead to 12-20, but he lost a close seventh board as Rahman led 21-12 going into the 8th and final board. Pasha was left with an uphill task of getting 10 points from the final board and he tried his best but lacked consistency and with that, his hopes of staying alive faded away. Rahman capitalized on every chance to sink his black coins and ensure his success.

Meanwhile, Mantasha Iqbal of AAI (Airports Authority of India) defeated Debagani Tamuly of DASCB (Defence Accounts Sports Promotion Board) 8-25, 19-15, and 22-11 in the women’s third-fourth place match.

In the men’s third-fourth place match, Maharashtra’s Sandeep Dive defeated World champion and top seed Prashant More of RBI 25-19, 18-1.

Results:

Women’s singles (final): Kajal Kumari (PSPB) beat Nilam Ghodke (JISL) 15-12, 17-10. Third-fourth place: Mantasha Iqbal (AAI) Debagani Tamuly 8-25, 19-15, 22-11.

Men’s singles (final): Abdul Rahman (UP) beat Zaheer Pasaha (RBI) 25-0, 21-16. Third-fourth place: Sandeep Dive (Mah) beat Prashant More (RBI) 25-19, 18-1.

source: http://www.ummid.com / Ummid.com / Home> India> Sports / by IANS / April 04th, 2022

Armistice Day: Remembering Forgotten Indian Heroes of WW1 Through Urdu Poetry

BRITISH INDIA :

The four years of the World War 1 saw the service of 1.3 million Indians, of whom 74,000 never made it back home.

Armistice Day: Remembering Forgotten Indian Heroes of WW1 Through Urdu Poetry

The First World War , or the Great War as it is also called, raged across Europe and several war arenas scattered across the world from 28 July 1914 to 11 November 1918. These four years saw the service of 1.3 million Indians, of whom 74,000 never made it back home. For their families, the war was something they couldn’t quite understand.

Given the large-scale Indian involvement in a war that the majority of Indians could not fully comprehend, we shall once again look into the mirror of Urud to see how the poet viewed the momentous years of the Jang-e Azeem as the Great War came to be called in Urdu.

Several poets, lost in the veils of time and virtually unknown today, made interventions as did the more famous ones who continue to be well known though possibly not in the context of what they had to say about World War I.

Urdu’s Rendition of the Greatest Human Tragedy

Presented below is a sampling of the socially-conscious, politically-aware message of the poets of the times. Not all of these poets are well-known today nor is their poetry of a high caliber yet fragments of their work have been included here simply to illustrate how the poet had his finger to the pulse of his age and circumstance.

Let us begin with Sibli Nomani and his wryly mocking Jang-e Europe aur Hindustani that deserves to be quoted in full:

Ek German ne mujh se kaha az rah-e ghuroor

‘Asaan nahi hai fatah to dushwar bhi nahin

Bartania ki fauj hai dus lakh se bhi kum

Aur iss pe lutf yeh hai ke tayyar bhi nahin

Baquii raha France to woh rind-e lam yazal

Aain shanaas-e shewa-e paikaar bhi nahin’

Maine kaha ghalat hai tera dawa-e ghuroor

Diwana to nahi hai tu hoshiyar bhi nahin

Hum log ahl-e Hind hain German se dus guneh

Tujhko tameez-e andak-o bisiar bhi nahin

Sunta raha woh ghaur se mera kalaam aur

Phir woh kaha jo laiq-e izhaar bhi nahin

‘Iss saadgi pe kaun na mar jaaye ai Khuda

Larhte hain aur haath mein talwar bhi nahin!’

(Consumed with pride, a German said to me:

‘Victory is not easy but it isn’t impossible either

The army of Britannia is less than ten lakh

And not even prepared on top of that

As for France, they are a bunch of drunks

And not even familiar with the art of warfare’

I said your arrogant claim is all wrong

If not mad you are certainly not wise

We the people of Hind are ten times the Germans

Cleary you cannot tell big from small

He listened carefully to what I had to say

Then he said something that can’t can’t be described

‘By God, anyone will lay down their life for such simplicity

You are willing to fight but without even a sword in your hand!’)

That the Urdu poet was not content with mere high-flying rhetoric and was rooted in and aware of immediate contemporary realities, becomes evident when Brij Narain Chakbast declares in his Watan ka Raag (‘The Song of the Homeland’):

Zamin Hind ki rutba mein arsh-e-aala hai

Yeh Home Rule ki ummid ka ujala hai

Mrs Besant ne is aarzu ko paala hai

Faqir qaum ke hain aur ye raag maala hai

Talab fuzool hai kante ki phool ke badle

Na lein bahisht bhi hum Home Rule ke badle

(The land of Hind is higher in rank than the highest skies

All because of the light of hope brought forth by Home Rule

This hope has been nurtured by Mrs Besant

I am a mendicant of this land and this is my song

It’s futile to wish for the thorn instead of the flower

We shall not accept even paradise instead of Home Rule)

Poems Charged With the Spirit of Revolution

Similarly, Hasrat Mohani, in a poem called Montagu Reforms, is scathing about the so-called reforms that were given as SOPs to gullible Indians during the war years, which were mere kaagaz ke phool (paper flowers) with no khushboo (fragrance) even for namesake. The poem ends with a fervent plea that the people of Hind should not be taken in by the sorcery of the reforms.

Ai Hindi saada dil khabardar

Hargiz na chale tujh pe jadu

ya paayega khaak phir jab inse

Iss waqt bhi kuchh na le saka tu

(O simple people of Hind beware

Don’t let this spell work on you

If you couldn’t couldn’t take anything from them now

You’re not likely to get anything at all)

Josh Malihabadi who acquired his moniker of the shair-e- inquilab or the ‘revolutionary poet’ during the war period, talks with vim and vigour of the revolution that is nigh, a revolution that will shake the foundations of the British empire in his Shikast-e Zindaan ka Khwaab (‘The Dream of a Defeated Prison’:

Kya Hind ka zindaan kaanp raha hai guunj rahi hain takbiren

Uktae hain shayad kuchh qaidi aur torh rahe hain zanjiren

Divaron ke niche aa aa kar yuun jama hue hain zindani

(How the prison of Hind is trembling and the cries of God’s greatness are echoing

Perhaps some prisoners have got fed up and are breaking their chains

The prisoners have gathered beneath the walls of the prisons)

Satire, Pain and Passion Punctuate These Poems

The ever-doubting, satirical voice of Akbar Allahabadi— a long- time critic of colonial rule and a newfound admirer of Gandhi, shows us the great inescapable link between commerce and empire that Tagore too had alluded to:

Cheezein woh hain jo banein Europe mein

Baat woh hai jo Pioneer mein chhapey…

Europe mein hai jo jung ki quwwat barhi huwi

Lekin fuzoon hai uss se tijarat barhi huwi

Mumkin nahin laga sakein woh tope har jagah

Dekho magar Pears ka hai soap har jagah

(Real goods are those that are made in Europe

Real matter is that which is printed in the Pioneer…

Though Europe has great capability to do war

Greater still is her power to do business

They cannot install a canon everywhere

But the soap made by Pears is everywhere)

The great visionary poet Iqbal, who is at his most active, most powerful during these years, does not make direct references to actual events in the war arena;

nevertheless, he is asking Indians to be careful, to heed the signs in Tasveer-e Dard (‘A Picture of Pain’):

Watan ki fikr kar nadan musibat aane waali hai

Tiri barbadiyon ke mashvare hain asmanon mein

(Worry for your homeland, O innocents, trouble is brewing

The portents of disaster awaiting you are written in the skies.)

Adopting a fake admiring tone, Ahmaq Phaphoondvi seems to be praising the sharpness of the British brain in Angrezi Zehn ki ki Tezi (‘The Cleverness of the English Mind’) when he’s actually warning his readers of the perils of being divided while the British lord over them.

Kis tarah bapa hoon hangama aapas mein ho kyun kar khunaraizi

Hai khatam unhein schemon main angrezi zehn ki sab tezi

Ye qatl-o khoon ye jung-o jadal, ye zor-o sitam ye bajuz-o hasad

Baquii hii raheinge mulk mein sab, baqui hai agar raj angrezi

(Look at the turmoil and the bloodshed among our people

The cleverness of the English mind is used up in all such schemes

This murder ’n mayhem, wars ’n battles, cruelties ’n malice

The country’s garden is barren, with nothing but dust and desolation)

Towards Freedom and Fervour..

Zafar Ali Khan sounds an early, and as it turns out in the face of the British going back on their promise of self-governance, entirely premature bugle of freedom. While warning his fellow Indians to change with the changing winds that are blowing across the country as the war drags to an end, he’s also pointing our attention to the ‘Toadies’, a dreaded word for the subservient Indians who will gladly accept any crumbs by way of reforms in his poem Azaadi ka Bigul (‘The Bugle of Freedom’):

Bartania ki meiz se kuchh reze gire hain

Ai toadiyon chunne tum innhe peet ke bal jao

(Some crumbs have fallen from the table of Britannia

O Toadies, go crawling on your bellies to pick them)

In the end, there’s Agha Hashar Kashmiri who, in a sarcastic ode to Europe called Shukriya Europe, thanks it for turning the world into a matamkhana (mourning chamber), and for having successfully transformed the east into an example of hell.

Utth raha hai shor gham khakistar paamaal se

Keh raha hai Asia ro kar zaban-e haal se

Bar mazar-e ma ghariban ne chiraghe ne gule

Ne pare parwane sozo ne sada-e bulbule

(A shout is rising from the dust of the downtrodden

Asia is crying out and telling the world at large

On my poor grave there are neither lamps nor flowers

And not the wing of the moth or the sad song of the nightingale.)

(Rakhshanda Jalil is a writer, translator and literary historian. She writes on literature, culture and society. She runs Hindustani Awaaz, an organisation devoted to the popularisation of Urdu literature. She tweets at  @RakshandaJalil

This is an opinion piece and the views expressed above are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for the same.)

source: http://www.thequint.com / The Quint / Home> Voices> Opinion / by Rakshanda Jalil / November 11th, 2022

AMU faculty elected Fellow of the National Academy of Sciences

Aligarh, UTTAR PRADESH :

Prof Nafees Ahmad Khan, Department of Botany, Aligarh Muslim University, has been declared as the Elected Fellow of the National Academy of Sciences, India (NASI).

The National Academy of Sciences,  recognises researchers who excel in the field of their research as Fellow of the Academy, which is considered as the most coveted accomplishment in academics.

Prof Khan has worked on the mechanisms of hormonal and nutritional regulation of plant development with emphasis on plant resilience against stressful environments using nutriomics and metabolomics. 

He has published many research papers in crucial high Impact Factors journals and collaborated internationally for research. He has published about 200 research papers(H-index 67; i10 index 175)and was noted as one of the most-cited Indian researchers in the area of Plant Science by Elsevier every year from 2019 to 2022. 

He has edited 19 books published by Elsevier, Springer-Nature, Frontiers, NOVA, Alpha Science and others. Supervised research projects focused on signalling molecules-nutriomics and abiotic stress tolerance mechanisms, and served as Editor/Guest Editor of the leading plant science journals, published by Elsevier, Frontiers, Springer-Nature MDPI.

Prof Khan is also fellow of The Linnean Society, Indian Botanical Society, Indian Society for Plant Physiology.

source: http://www.amu.ac.in / Aligarh Muslim University / Home / by Public Relations Office / November 04th, 2022

India’s first ‘Gate Woman’ Mirza Salma Baig is icon of dignity

Lucknow, UTTAR PRADESH :

Mirza Salma Baig at her workplace
Mirza Salma Baig at her workplace

Mirza Salma Baig is India’s first woman to man the Railway crossing. She is stationed at Malhore Railway Crossing, one of the busiest intersections of railway and road traffic, located a few kilometers from Lucknow, the capital of Uttar Pradesh.

Salma Baig, 29, a mother of a toddler, has been working at this crossing for the past 10 years.

Seeing a hijab-clad woman turn a heavy wheel to shut the gate when the train is about to arrive at that point and then open it for pedestrians and other road traffic, the onlookers often stop to take selfies with her.

People show respect to Salma Baig for her job. Seeing her for the first time, many people stop to just look at how she works.

Mirza Salma Baig was appointed as the country’s first Gate Woman in 2013 at the age of 19. She hails from Lucknow, Uttar pradesh.

Malhore crossing is a busy intersection between railway track and the city road and it’s challenging to control and direct the traffic. She has to frequently close the gate for the vehicular traffic as many trains cross this point all through the day. Salma turns a heavy wheel with a lever to close the gate and then unwinds it to open it.

The gates open as soon as the train passes. Salma says that while closing and opening the gate, she has to take care not to hurt anyone. She stands with a red and green flag in hand until the train has crossed the gate.

Interestingly, many people had questioned Salma’s appointment in 2013 as the newspaper reports of 2013 suggest.

Mirza Salma Baig opening the railway gate

The railway authorities had to clarify that this job was always open to women but not many serious contenders for this job had ever applied.

Salma’s father Mirza Salim Baig was also a gateman at the Railway crossing. Due to hearing impairment and other ailments, he had to take voluntary retirement much earlier than it was due. Salma’s mother had suffered a stroke and after father’s retirement, there was no bread winner in the family.

At this stage the Indian Railways offered Salma a job. Salma quit her studies and accepted it. Her relatives were angry but she chose what was best for her and the family under the given circumstances.

She credits her parents for her success.

Salma is proud of her 10-year career and smiles when asked about the snide comments made by many when she first joined.

When she started working at the crossing, the staff told her that being a girl she would not be able to open the crossing gate. They told her that a train passes this crossing every one minute and many predicted she would leave the job in four days. Salma worked hard and never gave up.

She has been standing here for the last 10 years. Salma says, everyone in the staff has become her supporter.”

She performs her 12-hour long duty with full responsibility and competence. Salma says that girls should have the same freedom as housewives.

source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home> Women / by M Mishra, Lucknow / November 07th, 2022