Sultana Saleem was one of the officers of Azad Hind Fauj, or INA, of Subhas Chandra Bose.
It is a concise compilation of a few of less known Muslim women who took part in the Indian Freedom Struggle.
Begum Mahboob Fatima: On 13 April 1932, two women were arrested at Chandni Chowk in Delhi by the police for commemorating the anniversary of the massacre at Jallianwala Bagh. These two were Begum Mahboob Fatima and Satyawati. On 21 April 1932, Begum Mahboob was sentenced for six months of Rigorous Imprisonment and Rupees 50 of fine. With this she became the first Muslim woman to have been sentenced during the freedom struggle in Delhi.
Sultana Saleem: Sultana Saleem was one of the officers of Azad Hind Fauj, or INA, of Subhas Chandra Bose. Her husband Colonel Saleem, whom she met during the war, also served the INA and Sultana was an officer of Rani Jhansi Regiment. Sultana reached India as part of the first contingent of captured soldiers of Rani of Jhansi Regiment in February 1946. The Indian Express reported on 22 February 1946, “Mrs Sleem felt that there was only one country for her- Hindusthan – and only one nation – Hindustani. She did not believe in either communalism or provincialism. It was the oneness of India that appealed to her most. In East Asia, she said there was no consciousness at all of religious or provincial differences and no untouchability problem. She believed that if India had freedom her many problems could be solved without much difficulty.”
Asghuri Begum: In 1857, when somewhere else Rani of Jhansi and Begum Hazrat Mahal were fighting against the colonial army of the English East India Company, in Muzaffarnagar and Shamli, peasant women had organised themselves in armed bands. The leader was Asghuri Begum. The region had been liberated by the Indian revolutionaries where the women contingent was being led by Asghuri. When Major Sawyer conquered Thana Bhawan, a town in Shamli, in October 1857, Asghuri was also captured. British troops tied her to a pole at a public place and set fire to her alive.
Nishat-un-Nisa: “I appeal to the youth of this country that they sit at the feet of this goddess (Nishat un Nisa Begum) to learn the lessons of independence and perseverance.” These were the words of famous Urdu poet Pandit Brij Narayan Chakbast. Nishat was the first Muslim woman to address a Congress Session and that too without a purdah. Hasrat Mohani, who coined Inquilab Zinadabad, was her husband. Nishat attended the public political meetings without her husband. She wrote articles, led delegations to Viceroy, participated in strikes and was the first woman to move a resolution for complete independence at a Congress session.
Saadat Bano: Saadat Bano whose husband Saifuddin Kitchlew is known as the hero of Jallianwala Bagh was a writer, poet and political activist much before her marriage. She wrote extensively for women rights, patriotism and education. It is a well known fact that people gathered at Jallianwala on 13 April 1919 to protest the arrest of Saifuddin but it is often overlooked that they came to listen to a public address by Saadat. Saifuddin was in jail but Saadat did not sit at home in those times. She used to address meetings, meet political leaders, attend Congress sessions, write in papers and take part in All India Women Conference activities. She was considered orator par excellence.
Amjadi Begum: How important a person would be if Gandhi himself wrote in one of his articles that this ‘brave woman’ led the ‘fundraising campaigns’ from the front ? Almost no history student in India knows Amjadi Begum. They know her as the wife of Maulana Muhammad Ali Jauhar. Gandhi in one of his articles wondered whether she could teach her husband the art of public oratory, where one impressed upon the hearts of the audience in a few words. She is believed to have single handedly led the fundraising campaigns and managed affairs of Jamia Millia Islamia when her husband was in prison.
Moondar: Rani of Jhansi’s movement had an important Muslim woman, viz. Moondar. She was a close aide and assisted her during battles. Robert Hamilton, agent of Governor General to Central India, informed the British government on 30 October 1858, “Rani was riding a horse. There was another Muslim woman riding with her, who used to be her servant as well as companion since many years. Both fell down from the horse with the bullet wounds simultaneously.” Another British officer John Venables Sturt claimed that the body recovered by the British was not of Rani but Moondar’s.
Nani Hakko: Nani Hakko was a jolaha (weaver) woman from Panipat who was impressed by Mahatma Gandhi’s idea of boycott and swadeshi. The she first heard him, Hakko started weaving her own shroud. She willed to be buried in a khadi shroud. When someone asked her what she was weaving, she would reply, ““I am weaving a kafan (shroud) for myself”.
Hakko left this world only the day after completing this khaddar ka kafan. She asked people to bury her in this handwoven shroud (khaddar ka kafan) and boycotted the foreign made cloth even in her death. According to Khwaja Ahmad Abbas, she was the first person to have been buried in khaddar ka kafan as a result of Gandhi’s call to charkha. Khwaja wrote, “she was the first one to be buried in a khaddar ka kafan — a patriot unto death!”
source: http://www.heritagetimes.in / Heritage Times / Home / by Saquib Salim / March 08th, 2025
The wider Indian audience, including many women in the 21st century believe that this is the most emancipated age of women and the women who proceeded them from centuries gone by were powerless dolls dressed in finery and painted and wooed by the men of the ancient and medieval world.
Compared to most countries of the world, India has had a longer and a more complex story, where the fortunes of women advanced and regressed from time to time. India is the only country of the time where a Muslim woman was chosen by her father to be the heir of his throne, we are ofcourse referring to Razia Sultan and her father Iltutmish of the Delhi Sultanate period in the 13th century.
After Razia and into the Mughal period, we increasingly see the growing power of the Mughal women which was not just limited to women of the royal family. Many icons of Delhi, some of which are even part of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites have been built by women for their husbands.
Bega Begum was the senior wife of Emperor Humayun, who got his incredible mausoleum built. Similarly Fatehpuri Begum was one of the wives of Emperor Shah Jahan and she has left us with the iconic Fatehpuri Mosque situated at the heart of Chandani Chowk.
Born in 1617, Roshanara Begum was a Mughal princess and the second daughter of Emperor Shah Jahan and his wife, Mumtaz Mahal. Roshanara was a brilliant woman and a talented poet. She was a partisan of her younger brother Aurangzeb and supported him during the war of succession which took place after Shah Jahan’s illness in 1657. After Aurnagzeb’s accession to the throne in 1658, Roshanara was given the title of Padshah Begum by her brother and became the First Lady of the Mughal Empire. She became a powerful political figure.
Roshanara’s rise to power began when she successfully foiled a plot by her father and Dara Shikoh to kill Aurangzeb. According to history, Shah Jahan sent a letter of invitation to Aurangzeb to visit Delhi, in order to peacefully resolve the family crisis. In truth, however, Shah Jahan planned to capture, imprison and kill Aurangazeb in prison as he viewed his third son as a serious threat to the throne. When Roshanara got wind of her father’s plots, she sent a messenger to Aurangzeb, outlining their father’s true intentions, and warning Aurangazeb to stay away from Delhi.
Aurangazeb was extremely grateful to Roshanara for her timely warning. When the war of succession was resolved in favour of Aurangzeb, she quickly became a very powerful and effective figure at court. Fearing that Dara Shikoh would kill her for her role in the war of succession if he ever returned to power, Roshanara insisted that Aurangazeb order Dara’s execution. Legend has it that Dara was bound in chains, paraded around Chandni Chowk and beheaded. Roshanara then had his bloody head wrapped in a golden turban, packaged neatly and sent to her father as a gift from Aurangzeb and her. Shah Jahan, who opened the package just as he was sitting down to dinner, was so distressed by the sight of his favorite son’s head that he fell unconscious to the floor. He remained in a stupor for many days after the incident.
Eventually, however, Roshanara and Aurangzeb fell out with each other. Mughal princesses were obliged to remain single since the time of Akbar so their offspring would not make a challenge for the throne. Roshanara was rumoured to have taken on lovers, which was not viewed well by Aurangzeb.
After her fall from grace, she chose to leave the court at the Red Fort and built for herself the Roshanara Bagh complex which is about six kilometres from the Red Fort. She was a lover of the arts and music and didn’t prefer the austere lifestyle promoted by Aurangzeb. This is proven by the fact that when one visits Roshanara Bagh the remaining building itself is built in a very romantic style, a Baradari (open on all sides) built surrounded by a pool of water apart from the canals and gardens surrounding it.
Even within the Baradari the main motif for decorations seems to be nature, one can see remnants of blooms on every wall, arch and even the capitals of the slender pillars. The fades blue, green and red colours gives us an idea as to how brilliant and bright the designs were when Roshanara herself was in residence.
The main gate of entry into the gardens still has mosaics left on its upper parts, which show that a bright hue of yellow was used apart from the blue, green and red. One can imagine, how this gate shone in the brilliance of the sun with such a colour combination.
The brief history that has remained about the life of Roshanara Begum shows us what a woman she was and more importantly how open Mughal society was at least for the women of the royal household and nobility.
The fact that she was capable enough to understand the intrigues of Shah Jahan along with Dara Shikoh in order to get Aurangzeb eliminated shows us that she had a perfect understanding of such matters and how to play a role in it.
Her warning to Aurangzeb guaranteed her power when he acceded to the throne and in return she became the most powerful woman in the Mughal Empire. The fact that such a rank existed in the first place showcases how Mughal princesses were considered an integral part in the proper functioning of the State.
She had her own sources of income which no doubt increased after she was bestowed with the rank of Padsha Begum. The fact that she bought land, had a beautiful and very extensive garden complex built for herself and lived a life of luxury shows to us that she was a highly educated woman understanding the complexities of titles, deeds, interests, savings etc.
She even had the power to decide where she wanted to be buried. She didn’t choose a pious cemetery but rather had herself buried within the Baradari of her beautiful gardens, the gardens which we still get to enjoy after more than three centuries of her passing and have made her name immortal in annals of time.
source: http://www.thewomb.in / The Womb / Home> Blog> Entertainment> Lifestyle / by Barun Ghosh / October 29th, 2020
Marathi actor Kiran Mane has sparked widespread discussion with a social media post highlighting an overlooked aspect of history—the compassion of Mughal emperor Aurangzeb’s daughter, Zeenat-un-Nissa, towards Chhatrapati Shahu Maharaj.
Mane revealed that Zeenat-un-Nissa played a crucial role in raising Shahu Maharaj and ensuring the well-being of his mother, Maharani Yesubai, during their captivity, reported the INN.
According to Mane, after Chhatrapati Sambhaji Maharaj was executed, his five-year-old son, Shahu Maharaj, was taken prisoner by the Mughals. Despite the captivity, Zeenat-un-Nissa treated Shahu Maharaj like her own son and cared for Maharani Yesubai as a sister. This humane side of Aurangzeb’s daughter, often ignored in historical narratives, is now being recognized through Mane’s revelations.
Mane further shared that, in gratitude for her kindness, Shahu Maharaj later constructed the historic Begum Mosque in Satara, naming it after Zeenat-un-Nissa. The mosque stands as a testament to her generosity and the bond that transcended political hostilities.
His post has ignited debate on social media, with many expressing surprise at this lesser-known chapter of history. Mane also criticized historians who have misrepresented Zeenat-un-Nissa’s role, urging people to acknowledge historical truths backed by evidence.
Zeenat-un-Nissa was known for her compassion toward the poor and underprivileged, which even influenced her father, Aurangzeb, to grant her the title of Padshahi Begum. Her charitable works and humane nature set her apart, making her an inspiring figure in an era marked by conflicts.
At the time of Chhatrapati Sambhaji’s death, Shahu Maharaj was still a child, and his mother was held captive. Despite the circumstances, Zeenat-un-Nissa’s care left a lasting impact, prompting Shahu Maharaj to honor her memory through the construction of Begum Mosque, which still stands in Satara today.
source: http://www.radiancenews.com / Radiance News / Home> Latest News> Report / by Radiance News Bureau / March 09th, 2025
Ajar Village (Bandipora District), JAMMU & KASHMIR :
Bandipora :
In rural corners of Kashmir, where girls are struggling to support and their success is rarely celebrated, a young girl from Bandipora has let her paintbrush speak louder than words and became an inspiration for many by becoming first Kashmiri women to achieve Gold in Influencer Book of World Records.
Seerat Tariq, 19-year-old stroked in tradition and imagination, has become the first Kashmiri girl to receive a gold medal and etch her name in the Influencer Book of World Records through her mastery of tribal art painting.
Born in the quiet village of Ajar in North Kashmir’s Bandipora district, Seerat has proved that girls are not less than boys. She has achieved a feat which many boys and girls wish to achieve in their lives.
Speaking with the Kashmir Despatch, Seerat said that she was passionate about drawing and painting since childhood. “When everyone was inside their homes during the Covid-19, I used to utilize my time in painting and create imagery painting which helped me to polish my skills.”
Her recent paintings which highlighted tribal life in Kashmir have helped her to enter her name in the influencer book of records.
She received her award on August 17 in ceremony for International book of influencer records Jaipur Rajasthan.
Her paintings are not only about art, it also highlights crucial issues about climate change, drug addiction among youths and importance of keeping the environment clean.
“Everyone was saying art is not enough to build a future. Fewer people consider this a profession in future, especially if a girl is doing it. Everyone used to demoticate me but my mother stands beside me which gives me hope and helps me to achieve this feat,” Seerat told Kashmir Despatch.
Seerat earlier made a record of making 104 paintings in a single day and entered her name in Asia Book of Records, followed by India Star Passion Award for art and creativity. Each milestone of hard work carried her closer to the global stage.
“Art can communicate more than words, it is the way which attracts the soul. I hope my paintings can bring a social change in our society.”
After achieving this feat, Seerat is preparing for the Genius Book of records and wants to highlight the Kashmiri tradition and beauty on the global stage.
Seerat urges other youths not to involve themselves in evil things. “Identify your hidden talent and use your skill to polish that talent and come on forefront and be the responsible member of the society, serve your society and be a change maker.”
source: http://www.kashmirdespatch.com / Kashmir Despatch / Home> Business / by Seerat Un Nisa / September 01st, 2025
Four Indian Muslim women creatives talk about how they discovered what they love.
Art lets us see ourselves in other people. It opens windows so we don’t get lost in the darkness, and reminds us that we’re never alone.
I believe that every person who thinks creatively is an artist. Whether you’re an entrepreneur or a scientist, you are a creative person if you’re finding new ways to tell stories and experience the world. When we spend time with art, we start to see things differently. When we listen to other people’s stories, we begin to connect to them and also understand more about ourselves.
Today, on the occasion of Muslim Women’s Day, we are presented with a special opportunity to pass the mic and celebrate Muslim women in a world that has historically overlooked them. When I founded the trend report and online community Unapologetically Muslim back in 2017, there was an important cultural shift happening. Donald Trump had issued an immigration ban preventing Muslims from entering the United States, and people were showing vocal support for Muslims, but their identity was also being typecast and commodified. Their stories were being told for them.
In response, I created a platform for Muslim women to tell their own stories. Over the last six years, I have interviewed over 130 women from all over the world and shared their stories on Instagram. I’m not Muslim myself but wanted to find a way to show solidarity. It’s been incredible to speak to women about their creative journeys and their dreams for the future. We have so much to learn from each other.
This year, for Muslim Women’s Day, I interviewed four Indian Muslim women creatives about how they discovered what they love. I hope their words give you some inspiration, and I hope that you take the opportunity to celebrate the Muslim women in your life.
Ruha Shadab, founder of LedBy Foundation
I was born in Saudi Arabia and moved to Noida when I was eight years old. I was a very quiet child but remember speaking about social impact as a six-year-old. At dinner, an uncle asked me what I wished for when I grew up, and I said world peace. He laughed at me, which I thought was amusing because I was being very honest about what I wanted.
I would eventually go on to create the LedBy Foundation, a leadership incubator for Indian Muslim women. I truly believe that the education and employment of women is one of the most pressing issues we’re facing in India. I hope that every Indian gets the opportunities, support and encouragement to achieve their professional dreams. At LedBy, we focus on helping Muslim women with the hope that it will have a positive externality. We’re giving them the support they need to reach top positions in 10-20 years as they climb the corporate ladder.
During our graduation ceremony last year, we invited parents and family members to speak. One father said, ‘This is the first time I’m speaking on a public platform. LedBy is empowering Ayesha and now Ayesha is empowering me.’ It’s beautiful that our work can have an upstream effect towards parents. The impact is not just at the individual level, but at the family level. Change is already coming and I believe that LedBy is expediting it.
Sana Khan, co-founder of Bombay Closet Cleanse and pole dancer
Growing up in a very conservative family, I was never able to wear what I wanted to. I was pretty shy and underconfident because I wasn’t exposed to a lot. I used to go to tuitions wearing salwar kameez while my friends would wear shorts. I’ve changed outfits in cabs and corners under my building. I had to fight really hard for what I wanted to wear.
After I got married, I became a compulsive shopper and would buy things I didn’t need. I wanted to have everything that I didn’t get to wear as a teenager. I was on this spree of buying, buying, buying. It became my identity.
At some point, I organised a charity garage sale at my home where about 100 people turned up. I received so much love and warmth from this community and we raised INR 15,000 for the Salvation Army. It was really heartwarming to see the response, so my sister Alfiya and I started a thrift store called Bombay Closet Cleanse. At first, it was just about making space in my closet. Then, slowly, I learned a lot and became very passionate about sustainability.
At the same time, I was at a very low point in my life. I saw burlesque dancers perform in Melbourne and was inspired by their confidence and body positivity. I’ve always gravitated towards sensual dance forms because they make me feel powerful in a way that I didn’t as a child. When I came back to Bombay, I signed up for pole classes and started doing therapy. They worked like magic for my confidence.
I have a pole in my house and I only perform for myself. It’s something that I absolutely love doing and it’s helped heal my childhood trauma. I’ve fought for it so hard that now, everyone has accepted it.
Sabika Abbas Naqvi, poet and activist
I come from a legacy of care and love. I grew up in a mosque compound in Lucknow with lots of love and appreciation. I was the quiet one and loved books. I had a record of finishing a book a day.
I started writing poetry when I was four years old. I would go upstairs and scribble things and I would come back and people would read it. From the balcony of the masjid, older people would ask me to read what I had written. At that time, I would call my poetry gibberish, but that was the beginning.
I’m Shia Muslim so I come from a huge cultural context of mourning and the noha and marsiya poetry that comes out of it. I had no idea what spoken poetry was, but the performance of that poetry really inspired me and became a tool I used to question everything around me. Now, for me, there is no other way to do poetry.
My poems are questions that I wanted to ask everyone around me, and they are also answers to questions that I was asked. It’s an all-inclusive theatre of words. It’s not a piece of literature; it’s an experience, and the performance comes with it. It’s not just the words that have to be said, but the way in which the words have to be said: which word is lightly put forward and which word is put forward with tenderness or anger.
The purpose of this poetry is my lifelong mission. I write poems that are multilingual so that more people can understand them. My poetry must and should be read on the streets in protest and if it is not, then it is a failure of mine. If people can spread hatred on the streets, why can’t I spread love?
Nuzha Ebrahim, chef and owner of Kuckeliku Breakfast House and The Fromagerie
I’ve always been entrepreneurial. Growing up, I tried to use any bit of talent to create things I could sell. In second or third grade, someone gifted me a pottery kit and I went around my building trying to sell misshapen pots to people. In high school, I started painting white Bata canvas shoes and T-shirts and selling them to people. There’s still a Facebook group somewhere. That’s how I made my pocket money and it helped shape what I’m doing now.
I tried to pursue art but it was one of those things where if I did it for money, I would start to hate it and couldn’t stick to it. Retrospectively, I realised that cooking was the one thing I hadn’t quit. It’s one of those things that I just don’t get bored of. Twelve years later, I’m still doing it.
My dad’s side of the family is in the restaurant business. My granddad set up his first restaurant 35-40 years ago so I grew up in that culture, but my parents didn’t really consider that I would take this forward until later in life. They assumed that this was one of the many hobbies I would quit, so I don’t think anyone was taking it seriously.
Cooking is like jazz; you keep riffing and creating something new out of the same ingredients that you have, and that’s really fun for me. When I cook for myself, it’s always about throwing things together and it’s kind of awful because I can never make the same dish twice. If I make something and I really love it, I can never do it again, because I never write things down.
In the restaurant business, every day is a different challenge. I have a grilled cheese business called The Fromagerie and a restaurant called Kuckeliku Breakfast House. There’s never monotony, so it’s always fun. Right now, it’s keeping me quite fulfilled.
source: http://www.vogue.in / Vogue India / Home> Culture / by Nayantara Dutta / March 27th, 2023
From humble beginnings in Moradabad to restoring historic monuments, manuscripts, and paintings, Maimunah Nargis blends traditional techniques with eco-friendly materials
New Delhi :
Art conservation is a field that not only preserves history but also connects generations to their cultural roots. Among the pioneers in this domain is Maimunah Nargis, India’s first Muslim woman art conservator. Her journey is a testament to passion, determination, and resilience, transforming scattered fragments of history into living heritage.
From childhood, Maimunah nurtured an interest in fine arts, which later became both her profession and life’s calling. After completing her schooling, she enrolled in Fine Arts at Aligarh Muslim University (AMU), but facing challenges in gaining admission to the MFA programme, she opted for a one-year diploma in Museology, a decision that became a turning point in her life. This course took her to New Delhi’s National Museum, where a three-month internship allowed her to experience history beyond books, touching and restoring priceless artefacts firsthand.
In 2002, Maimunah began her career as a curator at Jaigarh Fort in Jaipur, gradually establishing herself in the field of art conservation despite societal and professional hurdles. Wearing a hijab, she often faced doubts from clients, who would sometimes withdraw projects even after they had been approved. Reflecting on these challenges, she said, “This was a lesson for me, not a loss.”
Despite taunts when she left AMU for Delhi, her parents’ unwavering support gave her the courage to pursue her dreams, and her mother even accompanied her to the exam centre, demonstrating faith in her daughter’s ambitions.
Over the years, Maimunah has undertaken numerous landmark projects. She rebuilt the 400-year-old wooden chariot of the Lodwar Jain temple in Jaisalmer, which had been destroyed by termites, using traditional materials without the help of a carpenter. She reassembled broken statues from the 6th to 13th centuries in Akbar’s Fort, Ajmer, ensuring the joints remained invisible. She restored a 400-year-old Sanskrit manuscript in gold and ink at Kota Museum, and meticulously conserved the painted ceilings of 11 rooms in Garh Palace, Jhalawar, preserving three of them without removing a single piece or causing any damage.
Her work has also reached modern spaces such as Jaipur and Mumbai airports, where she restored a 5,000-square-foot canvas painting on Maratha history, and at Rashtrapati Bhavan, she preserved historic pictures on wooden doors. At the National Museum, she safeguarded historical books including Baburnama, Akbarnama, Shahjahanama, and Jahangirnama, and brought decayed artworks and royal garments back to life.
Maimunah’s approach to conservation goes hand in hand with her respect for the environment. She has often highlighted that cement lasts only 30 years, whereas traditional Indian plaster made of red clay and lime, being both eco-friendly and cost-effective, could endure for thousands of years. She applied these methods while constructing a building in Dehradun on the site of a 400-year-old mansion and a modern farmhouse in Gurgaon.
Her dedication has earned her three national and 28 state awards, as well as recognition from institutions such as Kurukshetra and Jammu University. Her dreams include building a heritage resort in Madhya Pradesh using traditional materials and restoring a 500-year-old temple in Mathura, aiming to help India rediscover its cultural roots and architectural heritage.
Hailing from Bhajoi in Moradabad, Uttar Pradesh, Maimunah grew up in a simple household but with ambitious dreams. Her father, a UP Police officer, always encouraged her, fostering the confidence to pursue an unconventional career path. Today, she resides in Jaipur, remaining hands-on in her work, kneading lime and plastering walls herself. She proudly states, “I am the only Shia Muslim woman art conservator in the country, and this is my identity.” Maimunah Nargis’s life story demonstrates that with passion, courage, and perseverance, a woman can overcome societal barriers, make history, and inspire generations. She has become more than a name; she is a symbol of culture, dedication, and empowerment.
source: http://www.clarionindia.net / Clarion India / Home> Editor’s Pick> Indian Muslim / by Clarion India / September 21st, 2025
Prayagraj (formerly Allahabad), UTTAR PRADESH / NEW DELHI :
Shamsur Rahman Faruqi with Baran Farooqi. Photos courtesy: Baran Farooqi
Abba was the magician who introduced me to the wide and varied wonders of the world, taught me everything about life and its customs and kept me enamoured of his extraordinary personality. I was awe- struck by his learning, his cool, confident air and the way and adulation he commanded sat comfortably on his shoulders.
And may there be no sadness of farewell
When I embark;
Alfred Lord Tennyson
“Yeh meri akhiri bimari hai (this is my last illness),” spoke Abba with a wry smile on his face. He was addressing Dr Nandani Sharma, a homeopath in Shivalik, Malviya Nagar (New Delhi), whom we were all very fond of and trusted. That evening we had taken him there since he had expressed a desire to actually see her and not consult her over a video call to ask about the chances of curing the fungal infection which had invaded his eye during his stint at Fortis Escorts hospital where he had been hospitalised after having tested Covid positive. None of us had imagined that it was a matter of just a few days before he would be gone, transited peacefully and in full preparation of “seeing his pilot face to face.” Dr Nandani assured him that he still had long to live and accomplish some more as she was confident her medicines would be able to control the fungus. This conversation had taken place in her driveway as Abba was not able to walk since he had returned from hospital and so it was decided that instead of him having to go into her clinic, he would be seated on his wheelchair near the car and she would examine him. We returned upbeat from Dr Nandani’s place but it was as if Abba knew better than Dr Nandani this time. He had been sent the summons and he had answered them with acceptance and great sporting spirit. So, he laughed at our jokes in his weak strength and held out his hands or arms to embrace whenever he saw me or my sister or my daughters enter the room. He would kiss my hands and softly caress my head if he happened to be sitting, bolstered by the electrically operated bed we had arranged, half a dozen pillows and bolsters around him.
Of late, in fact, right from the time he would send voice notes from the hospital, he would often repeat, “I love you” or “know that I love you.” Of course, we had never had any doubts about this ever because Abba was the master of expression. A vocal person, he taught me how I need to say “thank you” even to my own parents if they got me something and to house helps and friends for services rendered or acts of kindness. I once overheard him reproaching my mother for never doing salam to him first when he got home from office or smilingly extending her hand of welcome. Always cheerful and smiling when he came home from office, he expected everyone else at home to be as smiling and welcoming as he was. Each time any of us would enter his room for something, he would beam aaiye aaiye (do come in) and show his pleasure. He used to call me “funny face” sometimes, which didn’t seem very amusing to me but I knew I was supposed to show a sense of humour and not sulk over little things. I finally asked him one day, “Why do you call me funny?” He answered that funny faces are those who are delightful and make him feel happy and full of mirth. Once, when I made him fill out my columns of questions like, who is your best friend, what’s your favourite colour, what are you scared of and so on, (this was a raging activity in my school those days that you took autographs of people in your autograph book for no reason and also made them fill columns which were made in a double page of a register.) I remember almost all his answers to this day but I’ll speak of only a couple, to the question, “If you had a wishing wand, what would you wish me to be?” he had answered “Queen of Sheba.” I immediately understood this is something divinely great and luminous and so on, since I didn’t really know who queen of Sheba was at that time. In the answer to the question, “what are you scared of?” he had answered “centipedes,” making me aware that he was human and vulnerable in his own way.
I have wandered far from what I was initially talking about — his illness and his demeanour during those days. After stretching out his hands and making me sit close, he told me one day that the time for him to leave this world had come and that I should allow him to go. That the ceaseless struggle that we were putting up to withhold him was futile and he was convinced about his departure. He needed to go back to his spacious and open house where his favourite pet dog Bholi and others were, and he wanted the birds to sing near his window before he ceased to breathe. On those nights when he was awake and not faint with weakness, I would sit by him and read out his WhatsApp messages to him and also make him listen to the voice notes people had sent. He chose to respond to one or two voice notes or emails and messages every day. He would speak the voice notes himself and dictate the written messages or emails. He once made me write a mail to CM Naim sahib though there wasn’t one from him that day and also to Frances Pritchett, informing them about his health. One of the voice notes that he sent to Amin Akhtar (a relative of ours who has been assisting him in his library-cum-office and miscellaneous affairs for many years) was about the local graveyard which Abba’s efforts had helped restore and put in order after his return to Allahabad after retirement. He asked Amin to go to my mother’s grave and convey his salam there. He also asked Amin to see if it was still possible if he could be laid to rest right next to her, but in case anyone objected, he reminded Amin, he had chosen a remote corner of the graveyard for himself as a second choice. Amin responded next day tearfully that he had carried out his instructions and that there was no question of anyone objecting to his burial next to his wife. He had written the ayat he would like to be written on his tombstone and given it to Amin many years back already. I felt heart-broken at these conversations but I, too, knew that they must happen and not be left unfinished, for the day of parting may come if it had to, and there was nothing anyone would be able to do about it.
I marvel at Faruqi’s (as he would like to refer to himself, sometimes even calling himself “saala Faruqi” or “Fraudie”), courage and foresight for the way he bore his illness. He was also very kind and forbearing towards us, always succumbing to our pleas for making him eat or drink something despite being terribly averse to both ideas. Every time he would ask when we were planning to go back to Allahabad with him, and my sister or I would give a date a week or two away, he would nod patiently and agree. Ever since Ammi passed away, Abba had been careful to hand over all that she had left behind as money or property to both of us, saying this belongs to you both as she was your mother. But when it came to caring for us and endowing us with gifts or maintaining the large house, he acted as the perfect father. Never once did he ask us to bear any financial burden of any kind, be it the property Ammi left behind — he continued to pay property tax for it — or other charities that she was used to doing at her native village.
Unselfish by nature, and generous towards the world and its people, he once told me that he had spent his life with the aim to be of help to any number of human beings he came across in the journey of his life, particularly during his career in civil service. I have never known or seen, nor do I ever hope to see, another more good-hearted person who is also competent, capable and one of the greatest literary minds of the century. Abba loved exploring new things and enjoy them if the children so wanted. Any new joke, and we wanted to share it with him, a new piece of machinery or a gadget and he would be curious to know about it, any adventurous outing, and he would want to be a part of it. In fact, most of the interesting outings in my and my daughters’ lives were either planned by him or planned for him. It was just last winter that we all went to Kochi together to explore the backwaters of Kerala and spend some part of winter there to avoid the low temperatures up North. As he grew older, he had begun dreading the winters, as they confined him to his room and restricted his hours in the study. There were arrangements to keep his room, his study, and even his bathroom warm, but the cold got to him since he was finicky about wearing “inners” and heavy quilts bothered his frail body with their weight.
Apart from travelling to new places and exploring places of historical interest or natural beauty, Abba had a penchant for stylish and tasteful clothes and good food (which he always ate very little of, but wanted to be served in good quantity). However, he had this little thing in his head about what are supposedly “manly” dishes and which foods are meant to be consumed only by women. Consequently, I never saw him relishing anything even slightly sour. He was supremely dismissive of achar and chutneys or chaat of any kind. Even remotely foul-smelling vegetables were banned in our house, not to speak of home-made sirka or ghee being extracted from malai. I once witnessed a bitter exchange he had with my mother for having gotten mooli achar prepared in the courtyard of our house. This was even worse than cooking sabzi out of the mooli! Like any other subversive spouse, Ammi would sneak such things into the house and eat them secretly when he was in office.
Abba was a great animal lover, too. As children, having animals and birds around us was as natural as breathing and it must never have occurred to us that in the eyes of the world, we qualified as “animal lovers.” At any given time in our lives, there were always dogs, cats, turtles, mynahs, peacock chicks or grown peacocks, pigeons, partridges, quails and finches and other singing birds. Abba would often send a tid-bit or two to his pets (I said “send” because the house was really so huge in area that things had to be delivered from one place to another) and tell the person he had chosen for the task, “greet him with my salam and say that Faruqi sahib has sent this. We knew a lot about birds, which ones could be tamed or caged and which couldn’t be bred in captivity. He also had a collection of coffee-table type books on birds and animals and some of the exciting times of my childhood were certainly made of browsing through those books. Sea creatures like starfish, octopus or dolphins intrigued me greatly and I was enamoured by pictures of the mighty ocean. I longed for a trip to a coastal town but my wish was deferred for quite some time as my parents had already been to places like Bombay and Calcutta many times and were more focussed on the hills or animal and bird sanctuaries.
Abba played his favourite musical records of ghazals and classical ragas in the mornings which were spent enjoying three to four cups of bed tea. The tea, which would be brewed in an elegant tea pot and had a bitter aroma, would cool gradually as he read the morning papers. The music would continue to play up until he was almost ready for breakfast. Gradually though, I, too, developed a taste for singers like Farida Khanum, Iqbal Bano, Mehdi Hassan, Kishori Amonkar, and artists like Hari Prasad Chaurasiya, Ustad Bismillah Khan and other such maestros. My sister and I were also subjected to regular doses of mushairas and seminars which we had to duly attend along with our parents; I was still wearing frocks at that time. By the time I grew up, I had sat on the laps of many a great Urdu writer, poet or artist. I grew particularly familiar with Naiyer chacha (Naiyer Masud), Shamim chacha (Shamim Hanfi), Shahryar chacha and Balraj Komal uncle. The critic Khalil-ur-Rahman Azmi was someone I don’t clearly remember but I recall Abba grieving over him so much that Ammi had to chide him about moping a couple of times.
Abba was the magician who introduced me to the wide and varied wonders of the world, taught me everything about life and its customs and kept me enamoured of his extraordinary personality. I was awe- struck by his learning, his cool, confident air and the way and adulation he commanded sat comfortably on his shoulders. He lived a life of grace and élan. Once, when on one of our usual summer holiday road trips, when we were touring Uttar Pradesh and Himachal, there was an incident which impacted me for the rest of my life. It so happened that the road we were on was broken severely, blocked, you may say, so Abba decided to take a detour through another path, which was on the lower side of the road, beside the fields. It was a water-logged path but he estimated that our Ambassador car would be able to successfully wade through it. But to our chagrin, the car got stuck in the slush beneath and water began to enter the car at a high speed! The car seemed to be floating in the water, I began to bawl loudly saying, “Hum doob jayenge, hum doob jayenge, (I’m going to drown, I’m going to drown).” I got one of the most unexpected and loud scoldings of my life from him at that time, “Abey tu apne liye ro rahi hai sirf! Aur baqi tere ma baap aur behen? (Stop crying and saying such a selfish thing! Why are you worried about only yourself drowning and not your parents and your sister?)”. I wiped my eyes and looked at him, bewildered. It was a lesson I have remembered to this day — unselfishness and courage.
So close, so friendly and participative and yet so distinguished and awe-inspiring! They don’t make men like you any longer, Abba. I conclude my piece again from the poem quoted above. Abba would sometimes teach us English poetry, too, apart from Urdu and Persian. Abba had read out the poem to me many, many years ago and explained it to me. Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “Crossing the Bar” was one of his top favourite poems of the English language. I remember his voice almost choking at the sombre grandeur and sonority of the poem:
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
Perhaps, the very same lines were echoing in his mind when he breathed his last, in full control of his senses, aware and courageously ready for the journey across.
source: http://www.thepunchmagazine.com / The Punch Magazine / Home> Non fiction – Essay / by Baran Farooqi / February 28th, 2021
Literary historian Dr Rakhshanda Jalil has once again reminded Indians that Urdu is deeply rooted in the country’s soil and belongs to all communities, not only Muslims. In a detailed interview with the Indian Express about her new anthology Whose Urdu Is It Anyway?, Jalil traced the rise, decline, and contested identity of Urdu in modern India.
She explained that Urdu developed through centuries of cultural exchange, drawing from Persian, Arabic, Turkic, and local dialects, and eventually became the lingua franca of North India. From courtrooms to markets, it was a language spoken across caste and creed. Yet, political movements in the early twentieth century began to link Hindi with Hindu nationalism, sidelining Urdu and associating it exclusively with Muslims.
Jalil underlined how Partition worsened this perception. With Pakistan adopting Urdu as its national language in 1947, Urdu was treated as “enemy property” in India. This shift, she argued, accelerated the decline of Urdu and restricted its public identity. Today, while the government occasionally honours Urdu writers, stereotypes and misinformation continue to reduce Urdu to a religious marker rather than a shared cultural heritage.
Her anthology features sixteen short stories by non-Muslim Urdu writers such as Krishan Chander, Rajinder Singh Bedi, and Gulzar. The collection challenges the misconception that Urdu belongs only to Muslims. Jalil believes that Urdu is “as Indian as anybody or anything can be regarded as Indian” and insists that the language is willing to belong to anyone who values it.
Despite fears about its future, she remains optimistic. Urdu continues to thrive in poetry, Bollywood lyrics, and growing digital platforms. While fewer people read its script, its cultural resonance persists. Echoing Manto, Jalil recalled his words that no human effort can kill a language. Urdu, she said, will remain part of India’s consciousness for years to come.
Dr Rakhshanda Jalil is a noted literary historian, translator, and cultural commentator with over 25 books to her credit. She is widely recognized for her work on Urdu literature and the Progressive Writers’ Movement.
source: http://www.radiancenews.com / Radiance News / Home> Arts & Culture> Focus> Report / by Radiance News Bureau / August 29th, 2025
Mumbai Youth Congress member Zeenat Shabrin has been elected the new president of the outfit, becoming the first woman to hold the post after securing the highest 10,076 votes in the recently concluded organisational elections.
The elections for office-bearers in the Congress’s youth wing in Mumbai were conducted between May 16 and June 17 with nine candidates in the fray for the president’s post. The results were announced on Sunday with Shabrin, who secured the maximum 10,076 votes, emerging victorious, a party press release said on Monday.
Indian Youth Congress (IYC) office-bearers are chosen through internal elections rather than nominations.
Shabrin, who hails from a non-political background, said under her leadership, the Congress wing try to become the voice of Mumbai’s youth.
The party statement quoted her as saying, “The Indian Youth Congress has given me, a person from a non-political background, a platform. I thank the Indian National Congress, the Mumbai Congress, the Maharashtra Congress, and the Mumbai Youth Congress family for their guidance and trust. We will work to become the voice of Mumbai’s youth.”
The organisation would continue to fight under the leadership of Congress MP Rahul Gandhi and IYC national president Uday Bhanu Chib to strengthen the outfit and safeguard democracy and the Constitution, she asserted.
source: http://www.awazthevoice.in / Awaz, The Voice / Home> Sports / by PTI / posted by Vidushi Gaur / September 22nd, 2025
BanuMushtaq was accompanied by Chief Minister Siddaramaiah, several ministers in the state cabinet, among others.
Banu Mushtaq inaugurated the Mysuru Dasara festival.
Mysuru :
The famous Mysuru Dasara festival commenced in the city and palaces on Monday with religious and traditional fervour, with International Booker Prize-winning writer Banu Mushtaq inaugurating the festivities.
Banu Mushtaq inaugurated the festivities during the auspicious “Vrushchika Lagna” by showering flowers on the idol of goddess Chamundeshwari, the presiding deity of Mysuru and its royals, amid chanting of Vedic hymns by priests, at the premises of Chamundeshwari temple atop the Chamundi Hills here.
Celebrated as ‘Nada Habba’ (state festival), the 11-day Dasara or ‘Sharan Navaratri’ festivities are expected to be a grand affair this year, showcasing Karnataka’s rich culture and traditions, coupled with reminiscence of royal pomp and glory.
In the inaugural event, Banu Mushtaq was accompanied by Chief Minister Siddaramaiah, several ministers in the state cabinet, among others.
Earlier, Banu Mushtaq, along with Chief Minister and other dignitaries, visited the Chamundeshwari temple and offered prayers to the goddess, referred to as the “Naada Devate” (state deity), ahead of the inaugural.
(This story has not been edited by NDTV staff and is auto-generated from a syndicated feed.)
source: http://www.ndtv.com / NDTV / Home> News> India News / by Press Trust of India / September 22nd, 2025
