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Rashid Arshed
Contents
Foreword ...................... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Village of Tehāl ........... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
The Historic Visit ........ Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Lecture Sialkot ............. Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Persecution................... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Missionary Zeal of Ḥājī ṢāḥibFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
The Shuddhi MovementFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
The Aden Jamā‘at ........ Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Attempt on Ḥājī Ṣāḥib’s LifeFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
The Partition and QādiānFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
The City of Rabwah ..... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Ḥājī Ṣāḥib as Darwaish in QādiānFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Letter from Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr AḥmadFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Second Letter of Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr AḥmadFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Advocate of Learning .. Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
The Blessed Family ..... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Embodiment of Noble QualitiesFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Forgiveness .................. Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
A Day in Ḥājī Ṣāḥib’s LifeFehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Companion of Life....... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Last Days of Ḥājī Ṣāḥib.Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Post Script .................... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Glossary ....................... Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Index ............................ Fehler! Textmarke nicht definiert.
Foreword
Promised Messiah and the elders of the Aḥmadiyya Community. Hazoor pointed
out that there are many significant stories which have not been told yet. The story
of Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn Tehālvī (Ḥājī Ṣāḥib) is one of those untold stories. Thanks
to the call of the Imām, the sense of guilt has been replaced with the sense of duty.
The main purpose of this story is to highlight some important events in the life
of this great soldier of Aḥmadiyyat. It is a humble effort that is in no way complete
or exhaustive, yet written with the intention that it will serve as a guiding light
and will be a source of inspiration for future generations.
The real author of this book is our father Ḥājī Ṣāḥib himself who left behind
indelible footprints of his noble deeds. I just followed the track he walked and
picked up the pieces.
The material is collected from various sources including Ḥājī Ṣāḥib’s own
narration, audio tapes of our mother, Ayesha Begum, and interviews with my
elder brothers and sisters. Published material on Ḥājī Ṣāḥib’s life in Aḥmadiyya
literature has also been very helpful.
All letters addressed to Haji Sahib reproduced here are from the originals. The
letters from Haji Sahib written to other persons are from copies that Haji Sahib
scribed and kept for his record. Due to lack of mechanical duplicating facilities at
that time, making handwritten duplicates was a common practice. Such copies
were made for personal or official records.
Special thanks to Syed Sajid Aḥmad for lending a hand in the production of
this book. His expertise and long experience in this field publishing has been very
useful.
I wish to thank my siblings and several of my nephews and nieces, Mā Shā’
Allāh, who contributed to this important task in many ways. Special thanks are due
to Yahya Luqman and Tehmina Luqman, both great grandchildren of Ḥājī Ṣāḥib,
and to my wife Dr. Tahira Nasreen for reviewing the manuscript and giving
invaluable advice. May Allah reward them all!
Rashid Arshed
Village of Tehāl
Pothwār, a terrain of small hills and uneven barren land stretches from the twin
cities of Rawalpindi and Islamabad in the north to Khāriān in the south. The Grand
Trunk Road, the historic highway and ancient route of the Greeks, Mongols,
Afghans and other invaders from Central Asia, snakes through this tract of land
and connects the famous cities of Peshawar and Lahore. Rain in this region is
scarce, water a precious commodity and green pastures few and far between.
Farmers toiled very hard in their small, scattered uneven and rugged fields. Much
of their efforts went into clearing embedded stones and leveling the fields. Their
labor went to waste if there was no timely rain. Too much rain during the monsoon
season destroyed standing crops or washed away the seeds sown for the next crop.
Such harsh conditions of life made people agile, healthy, rough and in some ways
cruel. Lack of education and extreme hardship also contributed to ill manners and
short tempers. Minor disputes erupted, ending in a brawl, sometimes even
murder. Property and land disputes and other petty matters led to feuds that ran
from generation to generation. Since farming was an insufficient source of
livelihood, a large number of young men volunteered for military service; a
tradition that came from the British raj. The brutal training and discipline of army
life was much easier in comparison.
Tehāl (te-haal), a small village located on the southern end of this rugged
terrain, comprises just over one hundred families. The houses, most of them made
of sun baked mud bricks, were built on the slope of a small hill. Petty farmers made
the majority of the village population. There were also people of craft: a few
weavers, shoemakers, a carpenter, a blacksmith, a tailor and a barber. The
craftsmen earned their living by serving the farmers. Their service was rewarded
at the harvest with a few bushels of wheat. The craftsmen were generally
considered inferior, humiliated and even beaten sometimes.
Walk a little over a mile southwards and you experience a different landscape.
The land is flat; water is in abundance and vegetation a common sight. Along with
the contrast of landscape emerges the contrast in social behavior and culture. Here
in the south, within sight of rugged terrain and the rustic life of the north, people
lived a life of relative ease, were not as rough, and spoke a different dialect.
Being on the high and dry hill, Tehāl had no source of drinking water in the
village. No matter how deep you dug, the earth was dry and hard. The water-well
was therefore located south, over half a mile from the village, where land began to
flatten. Women fetched water carrying as many as two or three heavy terracotta
pitchers. Stronger among them carried even four; two on their head and two
resting on their hips and supported by each arm. Crowded with women in the cool
of afternoon, the water-well presented a picture of a social meeting place. Here
they pulled water from the well with a rope and pitcher over a pulley, gossiped,
laughed and enjoyed moments of recess away from the village. The sprawling
peepal tree that hovered above the water-well provided shade for farmers who
toiled in the fields, and for the cattle that grazed nearby. Swings of rope hung from
the branches of the tree on Eid and during other festivities providing fun for
women and young girls. The harvest season softened tempers a bit and brought
smiles on rustic faces. The Bandar Wala, the Bhalu Wala, the Juggler and the Jester
came to entertain the village folk in exchange for a small measure of grain or a few
pennies. Life was simple though living was hard but not without some moments
of joy and relaxation.
Tehāl had two mosques. The one in the north, on top of the hill belonged to the
majority sect of orthodox Sunnis and the one in the southern end of the village was
the Aḥmadiyya mosque. Being on the slope, the Aḥmadiyya mosque sat on a high
platform buttressed by an outer wall. Built with gray sandstone, its two well-
proportioned minarets were a pleasant sight to behold. As you climbed up the
stairs, you entered the outer courtyard that had a huge peepal tree covering most
of the mosque area and its branches reaching the rooftops of the neighboring
homes. The outer courtyard presented a scene of a social club. The villagers came
here to escape the scorching heat of summer or to spend some leisurely moments
of an otherwise rough and busy life. They came for a puff of Ḥooka, discussed issues
of common interest, and decided disputes through parya (jirga). They also came
here for a haircut or a shave from the barber who sat on the floor with his bag of
tools hanging on his shoulder. The jack-of-all-trades also served as a physician and
a surgeon. He slashed a cyst with his blade; dispensed ointment or prescribed a
treatment that came down his family for generations. Not bad at all compared with
treatment by amulets or exorcising provided by pseudo Peers who fleeced the
ignorant villagers of their cash and jewelry, and at times, seduced young women
to run away with them. On weddings or other festive occasions the barber wore a
chef’s hat and cooked food in large urns. He also served as a messenger and
walked miles to break news to distant relatives of the village folks for a coin or
two. He was a matchmaker too who assured the parents of both sides of the noble
qualities of a would-be son-in-law or daughter-in-law.
The outer courtyard of the mosque was also a resting station for the wayfarer
who stopped and sat under the tree for a while to catch a breath, quench thirst with
a bowl of water and to recuperate from the fatigue of the journey.
Time always changes and in the process brings many changes in life. But the
life of the people of Tehāl and its social environment remained unchanged. It
would have remained so but for an historic event that unfolded in 1903.About
fifteen miles north of Tehāl in the town of Jhelum, a crowd estimated in the
thousands had flocked to the district courthouse to have a glimpse of a man
summoned as witness by the court in a civil lawsuit. People came from all over;
from the local town and from the towns and villages far and near. They jammed
the streets and grounds surrounding the courthouse. Many went on rooftops and
others climbed trees. Some stood in awe and silence yet others were not as
respectful as they watched the Witness sitting among his companions in the lawn
of the court.
Present in the crowd, a young man of twenty-one, who had traveled fifteen
miles, was no less eager to have a glimpse of the Witness. His anxiety grew every
passing moment as he vainly tried pushing his way through. Eventually he
climbed up a tree to find a vantage point. Finally he was able to see the Witness,
whom he longed to see after traveling fifteen miles. The young man could not see
the face of the Witness, yet having seen only his back he was completely
mesmerized by the aura present around his person.
The Witness was no ordinary person but the one who, twelve years earlier had
claimed to be the Messiah of the Latter Days, the One awaited by all major religions
of the world to rescue people from the bondage of slavery; to unite the nations of
the world; to heal the morally sick and to raise the spiritually dead. He was
awaited by the Hindus as the reincarnation of Krishna, by the Jews as Moshiach
and by the Christians and Muslims as Jesus. He was Mirzā Ghulām Aḥmad of
Qādiān whose advent had created uproar and a huge storm of opposition in the
Indian subcontinent and had sent some turbulent waves in the rest of the world.
His message was unorthodox for Muslims and Christians alike as he declared that
Jesus did not die on the cross nor did he physically ascend to heaven, a common
belief held by followers of these two religions. He claimed that Jesus died a natural
death and was buried in Kashmir. He declared that Qur’ān is the last, complete
and perfect law for the guidance of mankind and Muḥammad is the Last law-
bearing prophet. He strongly refuted the belief that Jesus would descend from
heaven in person. He declared the Christian concept of the Trinity and Atonement
as false and baseless. He criticized the Muslims awaiting a bloody Mahdī who
would single handedly wage Jihad, the holy war, with as word against the infidels
and convert them to Islam by force. Ironically, Mirzā Ghulām Aḥmad was
condemned by Muslims, Christians and the Hindus; all who awaited him and
were eager for his coming. Now having been mischievously implicated in the case
by a notorious cleric Maulawī Karam Dīn, he was here in the town of Jhelum to
testify in the court.
An educated man of spiritual perception and noble qualities named Maulawī
Ṣāḥib Dīn was a resident of Tehāl. He had understood and accepted the claim of
Mirzā Ghulām Aḥmad as the Promised Messiah and the Promised Reformer, as
prophesied in the scriptures. He had the distinction of being among the select
group of 313 who were the first to embrace the truth. The young man present in
the crowd outside the courthouse was mentored by Maulawī Ṣāḥib Dīn and it was
Maulawī Ṣāḥib Dīn who had informed the young man about the advent of the
Promised Messiah.
When the news spread that Mirzā Ghulām Aḥmad was due in Jhelum,
Maulawī Ṣāḥib Dīn advised his student that the occasion provided an opportunity
for him to see the man in person and judge for himself about the truth of his claim.
On having a glimpse of just the back of the Promised Messiah from his position on
the tree, it took no time for the young man to perceive that the man in sight could
be far from a liar as propagated by the orthodox Muslim clergy and blindly
believed by the millions who followed them. Convinced of the truth he climbed
down the tree and, with a new resolve, elbowed his way through the crowd and
joined the group of people who were in the company of the Promised Messiah. At
the request of some in the audience, the Promised Messiah took the Bai‘at, the oath
of allegiance from them. To convene the participation of a large crowd, some
people near the front took off their turbans, extending them full length for others
to hold on to the part of the turban nearest to them. This was a symbolic gesture of
physical contact with the Promised Messiah. Because of the use of turbans instead
of customary initiation of putting one's hand on the hand of the Promised Messiah,
the event came to be known as Pagrion waali Bai‘at or the Initiation with the
Turbans. Thus, by taking the initiation the young man became one of the disciples
of the Promised Messiah.
This fortunate young man was Muḥammad Dīn who later came to be known
as Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn Tehālvī or Haji Sahib. The village folks addressed him as
Mian Jee or the Revered. He was Abba Jeetohis children, including this writer, the
youngest of his sons. By taking the Bai'at of the Promised Messiah he knew exactly
where he stood and what was involved in the crucial step he had taken. He
understood well that the meaning of Bai‘at was to submit himself with his soul and
body in the service of Allah the Almighty and he knew that from that moment
onward he was under the command of his spiritual leader. If there was a call for
duty, he was not to waiver and waiver he did not. If he were to be called upon to
offer a sacrifice, no matter what the price, he was not to hesitate for a moment and
hesitate he did not. From the moment of his initiation until the time he breathed
his last there was not a single occasion that he received a call for duty and he did
not embrace it saying Labbaik, here I come!
“Present among the audience of Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Ghulām Aḥmad in the lawn of
the courthouse was a man of fair complexion that also caught my attention,”
narrated HajiṢāḥib. “This man of distinction, I was later told, was Ḥaḍrat
Ṣāḥibzāda ‘Abdul-Latīf Shahīd, a noble from Khost, Afghanistan.”
Haji Sahib recounted the event in Register Riwayāt Ṣaḥāba (The narrations of the
companions of the Promised Messiah)
“Hazoor had come to Jhelum in connection with a lawsuit in 1903 and I saw him
for the first time in the court compound where a large crowd had gathered. Hazoor
was delivering a speech while sitting on a chair. Ḥaḍrat Ṣāḥibzāda Abdul-Latīf
Shahīd of Kabul was also among the audience. He was much moved by the words
of the Promised Messiah and tears were profusely rolling down his cheeks. This
scene was so moving that words fail to describe it. Whenever I think of it, I am
overcome by emotions. I pledged at that time to sacrifice all for the Promised
Messiah from that moment on. The opposition of Aḥmadiyyat was also in my
thoughts. But I was so deeply impressed by Hazoor’s speech that it became
difficult to return without entering the fold of Aḥmadiyyat and I offered my oath
of allegiance (Bai‘at). On my way back home some miscreants threatened to
murder me. But, by the grace of Allah, I never wavered even in the face of the
worst wave of opposition.”
Register No. 13, pp. 183-184
Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Ghulām Aḥmad also wrote about this event in the following words:
When I was going to Jhelum in connection with a case brought against me by
Karam Dīn, I received a revelation, “urīka barakātin min kulli tarafin.”(I shall show
you My blessings coming from all directions). This revelation was told to the entire
Jamā‘at and published in the newspaper Al-Ḥakam. The prophecy was fulfilled
when I reached Jhelum. Nearly 10,000 people had come to welcome me. The whole
road was filled with people and they looked so humble as if they were prostrating.
Then, on the day of the hearing, there were so many people in the district court
that the officials were astonished to see them. Eleven hundred people offered their
Bai‘at. Moreover, nearly two hundred women also offered their Bai‘at on that
occasion. The suit brought against me by Karam Dīn was dismissed. Many people
presented me gifts in cash and kind. Thus we returned to Qādiān triumphantly
and loaded with blessings. The prophecy had been fulfilled.
Ḥaqīqatul-Wahy, Rūḥānī Khazā’in, Volume 22, pp. 263-264
After the conversion, Haji Sahib wished that his wife, Hussian Bibi also joined
the fold of Ahmadiyyat but she was reluctant to do so. Eventually it happened in
rather unusual circumstances. Haji Sahib narrates:
“My two children died the same day. My wife showed exemplary patience and
courage at this tragedy. Though deeply grieved she occupied herself with
supplication. I took her to Qadian and arranged a meeting with Hadhrat Amma
Jaan (the wife of the Promised Messiah). When Hadhrat Amma Jaan heard about
the loss of her two children she consoled her with such love and kindness that she
found great solace and continued to mention it even after she returned home. The
meeting with Amma Jaan and her kind treatment impressed her so much that
finally she changed her mind and accepted Ahmadiyyat.”
Alfazl International September 27, 2002
Hussian Bibi did not live a long life and passed away in 1916 or so, leaving
behind three Children, Muhammad Ahmad, Amtullah and Sultan Ahmad.
After the untimely demise of Hussain Bibi, the first wife of Ḥājī Ṣāḥib, Ḥaḍrat
Maulānā Ghulām Rasūl Rājekī, a distinguished companion of the Promised
Messiah, arranged his second marriage with Ayesha Begum. This will be discussed
in detail under the chapter ‘Companion of Life.’
Lecture Sialkot
On the invitation of some members of the Sialkot Jama’at, The Promised
Messiah took a journey to Sialkot in 1904. When Ḥājī Ṣāḥib learned about this
journey he immediately traveled to Sialkot. Haji Sahib narrates:
“Once I learned that the Promised Messiah was coming to Sialkot. Eager to
have a glimpse, I also went to Sialkot on the given date. Hazoor was staying on the
second floor of a house and a large number of people had gathered downstairs,
anxiously waiting to see him. Suddenly Hazoor appeared and honored the
audience with his presence. When an old man met Hazoor he began crying loudly.
Hazoor consoled him and asked about his welfare. The old man replied that he
had been praying that Allah grant him life until the coming of the Imam Mehdi.
Hazoor replied, “So Allah has answered your prayer.” The old man was delighted
by Hazoor’s words. He then brought forward one of his grandsons and asked
Hazoor to bless him with the touch of his hand on his head and pray for him.
Hazoor prayed and turned to go upstairs. While climbing the stairs, one of
Hazoor’s shoes came off his foot. I grabbed the shoe and helped to put it back on
Hazoor’s foot. On this Hazoor smiled and affectionately said, “JazakAllah (May
Allah reward you for this).”
Register Rivayaat 13, pages 182,183
Persecution
To counter the false and foul propaganda of Aḥrār and the Orthodox clergy,
Ḥājī Ṣāḥib organized public meetings in Tehāl and in Khāriān. He traveled to make
arrangements and to inform Aḥmadīs in neighboring villages. On many occasions
he requested Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II to send Aḥmadī scholars from Qādiān to
address these meetings. Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ always obliged and many
renowned scholars visited Tehāl on Ḥājī Ṣāḥib’ srequest. Prominent among them
were Ḥaḍrat Maulānā Ghulām Rasūl Rājekī, Ḥaḍrat Ḥāfiẓ Ghulām Rasūl
Wazīrābādī, Maulānā Abul-‘Aṭā Jālandharī, Maulānā‘Abdul-Mālik Khan,
Maulānā Jalālud-Dīn Shams, Shaikh Mubārak Aḥmad, Malik ‘Abdur-Raḥmān
Khādim and Maulānā Qamar Dīn.
Ḥaḍrat Maulānā Rājekī has given an interesting account of such a meeting in
his voluminous and inspiring biography, ‘Ḥayāt-i-Qudsī’. He writes:
"I traveled to Tehāl, a village in the north of District Gujrāt, for a debate. Munshī
Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn, a companion of Ḥaḍrat Promised Messiah and a sincere and
generous person was then Secretary of Tehāl Jamā‘at. Since the partition of the
subcontinent, he has been living in Qādiān as a Darwaish. It was on his request
that the Center (Qādiān) dispatched me to participate in the debate. A well-known
Scholar, Maulānā Maḥmūd Ganjvī represented the non-Aḥmadī Muslims. A large
number of people began to assemble in Tehāl to attend this debate. I sent a letter
written in Arabic to Maulānā Maḥmūd Ganjvī showing my willingness to
participate in the discussion and to work out the conditions of the debate. By the
grace of Allah, he was so overwhelmed that he could write back (in Arabic) only a
line and a half or two. Even this short note was full of linguistic errors. When I
pointed out his errors in my reply, he desperately wrote a letter in Urdu and said
that there is no further need for correspondence. Let the debate begin! The topics
of the debate were ‘Death of Jesus’ and the ‘Truthfulness of the Promised Messiah’.
Having found himself cornered in the debate, Maulānā Maḥmūd Ganjvī got up in
the middle of the debate and said, “We are under no obligation to listen to the
propaganda of Aḥmadīs. We have other business to attend as well."
One of the mischief-makers and a great opponent of Aḥmadiyyat was Captain
Karam Ilāhī, chieftain of the neighboring village, Piyara. Having served in the
British Army and being a wealthy and influential landowner, he was respected
and feared by many. He sponsored meetings attended by Aḥrār clergy and used
these meetings to instigate people to persecute Aḥmadīs. Ḥājī Ṣāḥib approached
him and asked him to resolve the differences through dialogue and debate. In this
regard Ḥājī Ṣāḥib sent a letter to Captain Karam Ilāhī that is produced here from
the original. Captain Karam Ilāhī then held the rank of Ṣubedār (Sergeant Major) in
the Army. The English translation of the letter follows:
Respected Ṣubedār Chaudhary Karam Ilāhī Ṣāḥib, May peace, mercy and blessings
of Allah be upon you!
It came to my knowledge that the day before yesterday you threw a challenge of
oral debate. If in fact that is your desire then I would ask you to send us a notice in
writing so we can make our preparations. I propose that the debate be oral as well
as in writing and topics of the debate will be: Life and Death of Jesus Christ,
Continuation of Prophet hood or End of Prophet hood (Khatm-i-Nubuwwat), and
Truthfulness of the Promised Messiah. These are the real issues of debate and
disagreement. Debate will take place in Khāriān because it will be convenient for
both parties, and arrangements for drinking water, shade (Tent) and law and order
will be readily available. Since your scholars are coming, I hope that you will show
courage and convince them to agree to these terms.
It is befitting that all conditions of debate be agreed upon beforehand so that we
can prepare accordingly.
Muḥammad Dīn, Secretary Tehāl,
May 19, 1934
The above letter shows that Ḥājī Ṣāḥib was always prepared to convey the truth
that he had embraced himself and that he was never afraid of meeting the
opponents of Aḥmadiyyat head on, no matter how influential they were.
Ḥājī Ṣāḥib narrated a very inspiring event of his life when he had to go to
Jhelum to have some posters printed to publicize a debate with non-Ahmadi
Scholars. Ḥājī Ṣāḥib had only one day to print and distribute the flyers. When he
arrived at Khāriān Railway Station to take a train to Jhelum, he was greatly
disappointed to find out that he had missed the last and perhaps the only train to
Jhelum. He had done his best, leaving behind his personal business and walking
over three miles to the railway station. It would have been perfectly normal to drop
the idea of posters altogether and return home. He would have done exactly so if
it were his personal business. Nay, he was in God's business and he would not
retreat. “Walk a step towards me and I will walk ten steps towards you” is Allah’s
promise. Haji Sahib had walked three miles for Allah’s mission; would Allah walk
him another eleven miles to Jhelum? As he stood disappointed at the railway
platform, he noticed a freight train on the track at the far end of the station. He
rushed to the train and told the conductor that he had urgent business at hand and
he must go to Jhelum that day. The conductors of freight trains do not pick up
passengers. But God works in mysterious ways. The conductor, who was of Hindu
faith, obliged Haji Sahib and allowed him to ride with him in the caboose. Freight
trains do not operate like passengers trains as we know. They are slow and stop at
every station on the way, to deliver and pick up goods or to allow faster trains
coming from either direction to pass. The train chugged at a very slow speed and
by the time it arrived in Jhelum it was sunset. Haji Sahib got off the train and
hurried towards the bazaar where a printing press, run by a Hindu, was located.
When he arrived at the printer’s shop, the printer was about to close his shop. Haji
Sahib pleaded with him that he had traveled a long distance to get posters printed
and he would be deeply obliged if the job was done at that very hour.
“Sorry gentleman! I cannot help you. Even if I wanted to run the press for you
at this late hour, I could not because my scribe has already left for the day,” The
printer replied.
The printing in those days was done through litho process that required
scribing on a specially coated paper. The writing was then transferred on a zinc
plate that was used for printing. This Entire process needed time and a technician
to perform these tasks. It was a big setback but Haji Sahib was not a man who
would give up. He told the printer that he would scribe the text of the flyer himself
and would help in every way he could if he could have the flyer printed now. The
persistence and pervasiveness of Haji Sahib worked and the printer agreed to print
the flyer. Haji Sahib, who had beautiful handwriting, scribed the flyer that was
printed the same evening and distributed the next day.
The Hadith, إنما اﻷعمال بالنياتliterally translates: “Actions are dependent on their
intentions. “On occasions, we say that our intention was good but it did not work
out the way we wanted. Haji Sahib’s example above is a more profound
interpretation of this Hadith. That is, if our intentions are immersed with deep
faith and firm resolve, Allah, through His Mercy and Benevolence, will make the
provisions to produce the desired result.
It would be appropriate to mention here a very interesting account in the
biography of Maulana Jalaluddin Shams of a debate with non-Ahmadi mullahs in
Kharian in 1934. He narrates:
“The non-Ahmadis arbitrarily devised unfair and unacceptable terms of the
debate and paid no heed to our repeated plea for equitable terms. To make our
position known to public the Ahmadis had a poster printed immediately with a
caption, ‘’The Retreat of non-Ahmadi Scholars from the Debate.’’ Then and there,
our special man went to Jhelum and returned with the printed posters by
11:00pm.We posted these posters overnight at various places.”(Hayat-e-Shams
page114)
This “Special Man”, mentioned by Maulana Jalaluddin Shams, was none other
than Haji Sahib. On the same page, the statement of Maulana Jalaluddin Shams
says:
“This poster gave a severe blow to the plans of non-Ahmadis and the next
morning, the Secretary of non-Ahmadis Along with his team, was seen removing
the posters and applying cattle waste on those which were difficult to remove.
“ibid.
With the advent of Islam in India, millions of Hindus, attracted by the simple,
practical and beautiful teachings, began to enter the folds of Islam. In the late 1920s
and 30s, the Arya Samāj, an extremist Hindu group of India, started a well-
organized movement to convert the Muslims in Uttar Pradesh province to
Hinduism. Since a large number of Muslims were living in extreme poverty, they
began to succumb to high-handed methods of Arya Samāj. Alarmed by the danger
the Arya Samāj presented to the Muslim Community, Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīrud-Dīn
Maḥmūd Aḥmad, the Second Khalīfa of the Promised Messiah, initiated a counter
movement with the help of volunteers of the Jamā‘at. He invited the members of
the Jamā‘at to offer their time to serve in the area. Haji Sahib was among the first
who responded to the call of the Imām. Malik Fateḥ Muḥammad Sayyāl was
appointed to oversee the project. Ḥaḍrat Chaudhary Naṣrullāh Khan, father of Sir
Zafrullah Khan and Ḥājī Ṣāḥib worked together in an area assigned to them.
Many years later, in 1960, Haji Sahib traveled to Aden to visit his eldest son, Dr.
Muḥammad Aḥmad. Sir Zafrullah Khan, the former Foreign Minister of Pakistan
who was then serving as Vice President and a Judge of the International Court of
Justice in The Hague, also happened to be in Aden. The Pakistan Association of
Aden arranged a reception in honor of Sir Zafrullah Khan. Present among the
audience was the High Commissioner of Pakistan and other diplomats and
dignitaries. Haji Sahib expressed his desire to his son, Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad that
he would also like to say a few words at the reception. Unprepared for this daring
request, Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad tried his best to persuade Haji Sahib to refrain
from this idea. This was a very formal occasion that had no room for a villager who
was ignorant of the diplomatic protocols and lacked oratory skills. Haji Sahib could
read and write Urdu profusely but public speaking was not his cup of tea. Rarely
did he speak in Urdu language and when he did, he frequently mixed Punjabi
words with Urdu, making the speech look comical. In an attempt to avoid a public
scene, Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad gazed at him and politely brushed aside his
suggestion. Haji Sahib was not a person to give up so easily if he had made up his
mind. On seeing that his father was not prepared to give an inch of ground, Dr.
Muḥammad Aḥmad reluctantly agreed. However, he braced himself for the
embarrassment, that in his judgment, Haji Sahib was about to cause. Ḥājī Ṣāḥib
went to the podium and began to speak:
“I have the honor of knowing the father of the respected Guest of Honor. We
both had the privilege of working together to counter the Shuddhi Movement in
Uttar Pradesh, India. I used to get up very early in the morning to fetch water from
the nearby well. Before Ḥaḍrat Naṣrullāh Khan woke up, I had water ready for his
ablution or bath. Each time I did so, Ḥaḍrat Naṣrullāh Khan thanked me and said’
“Next morning it would be my turn to fetch the water'’” I made sure that the next
morning I got up even earlier so that I did not cause any trouble to my respected
colleague.”
As Haji Sahib spoke, tears rolled down the cheeks of Sir Zafrullah Khan. He
took out his handkerchief to wipe his tears. When Haji Sahib finished his speech,
Sir Zafrullah Khan got up from his seat and hugged Haji Sahib in an affectionate
and respectful manner. Most dignitaries followed suit. The moment that was
feared to be an embarrassment for the son became a moment of triumph. (Narrated
by Naīm Aḥmad Waseem, son of Ḥājī Ṣāḥib)
It is appropriate to mention here the role Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad, son of Ḥājī
Muḥammad Din, played in the establishment of Aden Jamā‘at. He also served the
Jamā‘at as its President and in various other capacities. Here is a brief passage from
the Al-Fazl International on the History of Aden Jamā‘at.
Aden Jamā‘at was established in 1936 consisting of members who were
immigrants. However, it was not until 1946 that a regular mission was established.
Among the foreign members were Dr. Firozuddin, Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad (son
of Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn), Dr. Muḥammad Khan, Dr. Ṣāḥibzāda Muḥammad
Hashim Khan and Dr. Aziz Bashiri. Dr. Firozud-Dīn who, at the time, was
President of Aden Jamā‘at went to Qādiān. It was then that Dr. Muḥammad
Ahmad wrote a letter to him on January 23, 1946 and a telegram the same day
suggesting the idea of opening a mission in Aden. He also offered his house for
the missionary to stay for six months until other arrangements were made. Dr.
Muḥammad Ahmad also sent an amount of Rs. 500 to cover the travel expense for
the missionary. Dr. Aziz Bashiri also pledged an equal amount. Dr. Firozuddin
met Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II and presented to him the letter and the telegram of
Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad and requested the appointment of a missionary for Aden.
All five doctors had pledged to bear the expense of the Mission House. Responding
to this request Ḥaḍrat Muṣliḥ Mau‘ūd appointed Maulawī Ghulām Aḥmad
Mubashir, a young graduate of Jāmia Aḥmadiyya.”
(Al-Fazl International dated March 27, 2009)
It was through the dedicated efforts of Maulawī Ghulām Aḥmad Mubashir
that ‘Abdullāh Maḥmūd Shabooti, who was to become a very dedicated Aḥmadī,
accepted Aḥmadiyyat in April 1947. The Shabooti family also entered into
matrimonial relationships with Dr. Muḥammad’s family when Maḥmūd
Shabooti’s son married the elder daughter of Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad. Dr.
Muḥammad Shabooti of Los Angeles Jamā‘at, a grandson of Dr. Muḥammad
Aḥmad and great-grandson of Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn married the granddaughter
of Maulawī Zahoor Hussain who had the honor of being the first missionary in
Russia.
The activities of the Aḥmadīs and the success that followed angered the
Shuddhi leadership. Leaders of the Arya Samaj in the area where Haji Sahib was
stationed planned to murder him. They prepared a man for this mission and
dispatched him to where Haji Sahib was staying. When the would-be assassin
arrived, Haji Sahib was praying outside in the open on the grass. Haji Sahib
noticed the presence of a stranger who was circling around him. When Haji Sahib
finished his prayer, this man, holding a dagger in his hand, came towards him
and humbly confessed that he was on a mission to kill him,” I was told that you
were a bad person. Having seen you praying with devotion I thought you were
an innocent person and I saw no reason to kill you.”
The relentless and selfless efforts by Aḥmadiyya Community to counter the
Shuddhi Movement frustrated the designs of Arya Samaj. The Muslims who were
compelled or persuaded to convert to Hinduism returned to Islam. Further
conversion was effectively halted. A detailed discussion on the subject is beyond
the scope of this booklet. It is however befitting to add that this accomplishment
was widely acknowledged in the media run by Muslims and Hindus of India and
by many distinguished individuals.
The struggle to free India from the colonial rule of the British Empire which
was at its peak during the Second World War, culminated in 1947 resulting in two
independent states, Pakistan and India. The provinces in the North and the East
with majority Muslim population formed the new country, Pakistan. (The East wing
of Pakistan seceded in 1971 to form an Independent country, Bangladesh).Qā’id-i-A‘ẓam
Muḥammad Alī Jinnah, the founder of Pakistan, had full support of the Imām of
the Aḥmadiyya Jamā‘at and its members in his mission for a separate state for
Muslims. The task of dividing the Punjab was given to the Radcliffe Commission
headed by a British, Sir Cyril Radcliff. Qādiān, the Aḥmadiyya headquarters was
located in the District of Gurdaspur that had Muslim majority. Based on this fact,
it was hoped that the Commission would award the District of Gurdaspur to
Pakistan. Qā’id-i-A‘ẓam M. A. Jinnah appointed Sir Muḥammad Zafrullah Khan
to represent the case of Pakistan before the Commission. Sir Zafrullah Khan
worked assiduously to convince the Commission in favor of Pakistan but it
appeared that Sir Radcliff, whose sympathies were with India, was bent upon
giving Gurdaspur and other territory, strategically linking with Kashmir, to India.
This writer was only ten years old when these events were taking place. I
remember well that Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīrud-Dīn Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II instructed the
Jamā‘at on regular basis to pray that Qādiān would be part of Pakistan. These
messages were read out by Haji Sahib before the Jamā‘at in the Aḥmadiyya Mosque
in Tehāl. I have stated this fact because the orthodox Muslim clergy of Pakistan,
out of sheer mischief, have persistently accused the Jamā‘at and Sir Zafrullah Khan
for conspiring with India and the British. In reality it was the Muslim clergy and
their ardent followers who vehemently opposed the struggle for Pakistan and
ridiculed and physically attacked its founder, Muḥammad ‘Alī Jinnah. Enough
evidence of these facts is on the record and need not be elaborated here.
Widespread communal riots broke out during the partition. The Aḥmadī
population in Qadian, now in Indian Territory, became subject to attacks by the
Sikhs of neighboring villages. The Aḥmadī youth and elders defended the town
with courage and bravery and a number of lives were lost in the process. Among
those who risked their lives and stood on guard were Mubārak Aḥmad and Naīm
Aḥmad Waseem, two of Haji Sahib’s sons. It became increasingly evident that the
safety of Aḥmadīs would be in jeopardy if they stayed in Qādiān. Ḥaḍrat
Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II instructed the Aḥmadī residents of Qādiān to evacuate the city
and migrate to Pakistan. He moved to Lahore and established a temporary office
at Jodhamal Building, an evacuated property of a Hindu located in Patiala
Grounds. Ratan Bāgh, another such building across the road, was also acquired for
Jamā‘at use. Ḥaḍrat Nawāb Muḥammad Abdullāh Khan, son-in-law of the
Promised Messiah, resided in Ratan Bāgh for a number of years. With riots
spreading in every town of the Punjab, caravans of Muslim migrants moving
towards Pakistan were being attacked and slaughtered systematically. By the
grace of Allah, and through the wisdom of Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II, all Aḥmadīs
were evacuated safely in an orderly fashion. The Jamā‘at’s valuable record was
also transferred safely.
The loss of Qādiān sent a wave of despair among Aḥmadīs around the world.
How would the Khalīfa be able to function without a center? How would the
enormous task of publications and Tablīgh, inside and outside Pakistan, be carried
out? What about the educational institutions, the lifeline of the Jamā‘at? Ḥaḍrat
Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II was well aware of the situation and the challenge before him
at this hour of trial. In order to lift the spirits of the members and to assure them
that the Jamā‘at would continue to progress in spite of this enormous setback, he
set out on a tour of the west wing of Pakistan. He visited every Jamā‘at or met its
delegation on the way, traveling by road on the Grand Trunk Highway from
Lahore to Peshawar.
Gujrāt, a city 25 miles south of Tehāl, and the nearby town of Khāriān were
also on the itinerary of Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II. Haji Sahib could not have missed
this opportunity. The day Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II was scheduled to appear in
Gujrāt, he took me along and we traveled 21 miles on a buggy to see and to listen
to the Imām. The following morning, a reception was given in his honor on the
lawns of the district courts, which was attended by the elite of the city. In the
evening, Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ addressed the Jamā‘at in the Aḥmadiyya
mosque. I was too young to understand the contents of the speech but I considered
myself fortunate to have the glimpse of this great person for the first time. The next
day Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II was to meet the members of the Khāriān Jamā‘at
on his way to Jhelum. Haji Sahib and I spent the night in Gujrāt at the house of an
Aḥmadī friend. The next day, early in the morning, we traveled back to Khāriān
by buggy. Haji Sahib was so keen to see Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II again that he
set out very early in the morning and arrived well ahead of the entourage of the
Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II. The only meal I had that morning was two boiled eggs. Haji
Sahib had nothing. The visit of Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II made him too ecstatic to
get hungry or to think of food. Aḥmadī men, women and children of Khāriān and
nearby villages had assembled inside and outside of a roadside property that
belonged to an Aḥmadī Kashmīrī family who have a long tradition of service and
dedication to Aḥmadiyyat. A good number of non-Aḥmadīs, either by invitation
or just out of curiosity, were also present.
When Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II was leaving, the hostess Jannat Bībī talking
to her non-Aḥmadī female guests remarked, “Eh sahada Peer ae, dekho sahaday Peer
nooñ.” “This is our Peer (spiritual leader). Take a look at our Peer.” In spite of my
young age, I understood well that she made comparative reference to pseudo-
Peers, that were many in the area, but devoid of any morality, spirituality and
grace. On the contrary, they were con men, who fraudulently took possession of
properties of their followers and fled away with it. Nearly six decades have passed
since then but the words of Jannat Bibi Still ring in my ears.
When Muslims were desperately fleeing from Indian territory to save their
lives, a group of 36 Muslims was traveling back to India in this chaotic and
dangerous situation. They must have been insane or intoxicated to do such a thing.
Insane and intoxicated indeed they were, but their insanity was of a different kind,
their intoxication from a different wine.
Qādiān could not have been abandoned completely because it was the spiritual
center of the Aḥmadīs. It was necessary to occupy, protect and look after the
residential quarters of the Promised Messiah and other sacred places such as the
Aqṣā Mosque, Masjid Mubārak and Behishtī Maqbara. This could be accomplished
only if some Aḥmadīs resided in Qādiān. The task could be done by such Aḥmadīs
whose devotion for Aḥmadiyyat and love of the Promised Messiah had reached
the highest level and who were too intoxicated in their love to think of anything
else. Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II appealed to Jamā‘at for volunteers to stay in
Qādiān. He also handpicked some dedicated and trusted Aḥmadīs for this very
important task that needed utmost sacrifice. These people were to leave everything
behind including their families, their businesses and material comforts to reside in
Qādiān indefinitely. Because of their mission, they were appropriately called
Darwaish. One of the names handpicked by the Khalīfa to be in this select group
was that of Haji Sahib. Following account of this event is translated from the Urdu
book, Tābi‘īn Aṣḥāb Aḥmad:
In May (11, 1948) Ḥaḍrat Muṣliḥ Mau‘ūd sent 36 men consisting mostly of middle
aged and elderly people from Pakistan to Qādiān. Among them were Bha’ī Abdur-
Rahim Qādiāni, Muḥammad Ya‘qūb (cousin of Ḥaḍrat Mian Muḥammad Siddiq
Wasalbaqi (buried in Behishtī Maqbarah, Qādiān) and Ḥaḍrat Ḥājī Muḥammad
Dīn Tehālvī (buried in Behishtī Maqbarah, Rabwah). All these men were strong
willed and understood the seriousness of the mission they were selected for.
Ḥaḍrat Muṣliḥ Mau‘ūd sent them to Qādiān with the objective in mind that their
exemplary character will reflect on other Darwaishes residing in Qādiān. Due to
the far-sightedness of Ḥaḍrat Muṣliḥ Mau‘ūd, the presence of these elders of
Jamā‘at became a source of religious and spiritual benevolence.
Tābi‘īn Aṣḥāb Aḥmad, page 77.
Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II sent a letter regarding the First Batch of Darwaishes
to Maulawī‘Abdur-Raḥmān Qādiāni who was already residing in Qādiān. The
English translation is given below from a copy of the letter kept by Haji Sahib.
In the name of Allah the Gracious, the Merciful.
Dear Maulawī ‘Abdur-Rahman Sahib,
The companions of the Promised Messiah, peace be upon him, and some other
people, who have given preference to live in the Town of Masīḥ over the material
life, are coming to Qādiān. May Allah bless their journey to Qādiān! Some people
who cannot stay longer will come back. May Allah accept their sacrifice as well
and increase their capacity to earn blessings by doing good after they have
returned from Qādiān.
We, who are forced by the circumstances to live outside Qādiān are hopeful that
one day, like all of you, who are in Qādiān, Allah Almighty will bring all of us back
to Qādiān. May Allah shorten the time of our exile! Āmīn.
If it were not because of the responsibility of Jamā‘at I would have certainly been
with you. But I am sitting outside Qādiān with a wounded heart and sad thoughts.
I have no idea when that day will arrive that I will reach that place where sits the
throne of Allah’s Messenger and is the lasting Center of Aḥmadīs. You are that
select group who will be remembered in the history of Aḥmadiyyat with joy and
pride. Your children will be looked at with respect and they will inherit the
blessings of Allah. It will be so because Allah does not choose someone without a
reason. I pray to Allah that He does not let your sacrifice go waste. Āmīn,
Allāhumma Āmīn! (Accept our prayers, O our Allah, accept our prayers). All of
you should pray continuously that Allah return Qādiān to us and then again we
see Aḥmadīs everywhere in Qādiān and in its neighborhood. Allāhumma Āmīn!
Humbly, Mirzā Maḥmūd Aḥmad
Lahore. May 11, 1948
When Haji Sahib received instructions from Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II, he
immediately left Tehāl for Lahore leaving behind his family and business. His
departure was so sudden that some of us could not even grasp the seriousness or
the significance of the event. His departure not only left the family without a father
and support but also created a vacuum in the Jamā‘at of Tehāl. The members of
the local Jamā‘at greatly relied on his leadership in religious and secular matters.
Suddenly, they were deprived of a teacher, a mentor and a friend. Having found
themselves in this predicament, they sent a petition to Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II
to send Haji Sahib back from Qādiān. The petition read:
In the name of Allah, the Gracious, the Merciful.
Revered Ḥaḍrat Amīrul-Mu’minīn, Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II.
As-Salāmu ‘Alaikum Wa Raḥmatullāhi Wa Barakātuhū.
We, the members of Jamā‘at Aḥmadiyya Tehāl, most respectfully request Hazoor
that respected Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn, Darwaish, and former President of Tehāl
Jamā‘at, may be permitted to come back from Qādiān. His person is very
benevolent for Jamā‘at and due to his absence, Jamā‘at is showing weakness in all
areas, particularly in Tarbiyat (moral training) and financial contributions. Due to
his personal influence and efforts not only Tehāl Jamā‘at but also the other Jamā‘ats
of the area were very active. He was also ceaselessly engaged in a campaign of
Tablīgh among non-Aḥmadīs. Besides the suspension of Tablīgh activities, the
Tehāl Jamā‘at is exposed to other weaknesses also. In such circumstances, this
Jamā‘at humbly requests and expects that Hazoor will grant permission to Haji
Sahib to return and assign him again the responsibility of reinvigorating this
Jamā‘at.
We are the humble servants of Hazoor.
All members of Tehāl Jamā‘at.
Dated 9 December 1953
(Translation from Urdu)
It is obvious that Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II did not approve the petition as
Haji Sahib continued to serve as a Darwaish in Qādiān until his demise in 1965.
Apart from the petition submitted by the Jamā‘at of Tehāl, a similar appeal was
sent by Haji Sahib’s son, our elder brother, Mubārak Aḥmad to Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr
Aḥmad who oversaw the affairs of Darwaishes (Nāẓir Khidmat-i-Darwaishān). On
learning about this letter, Haji Sahib was greatly disturbed and immediately wrote
a letter to Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr Aḥmad expressing his regret for the letter and
explaining his position on the issue. Here is the English translation of Haji Sahib’s
letter to Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr Aḥmad:
Respected and Revered Ḥaḍrat Mian Ṣāḥib, Qamarul-Anbiyā, Sallama hullāhu
Ta‘ālā,
As-Salātu Was-Salāmu‘Alaikum Wa Raḥmatullāhi Wa Barakātuhū.
This humble servant of yours prays all the time for you, for His Holiness (Ḥaḍrat
Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II) and all the members of the Promised Messiah’s family in
Masjid Mubārak, Baitul-Fikr and Baitud-Du‘ā. Likewise, I visit the grave of the
Promised Messiah, twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, and supplicate
there too. May Allah accept my prayers!
I learned from a letter of my son Mubārak Aḥmad that out of consideration of the
difficulties of my household, he has petitioned your honor for my return from
Qādiān. It pained me to know that he had done so without my knowledge and
permission.
I have offered myself to become a Darwaish. The difficulties at home are many that
disturb me, and to which I am not insensitive. Some issues that need attention do
bother me but, by the grace of Allah, all those difficulties will be removed. With
your prayers and Allah’s mercy, my family situation will improve while I am here.
The reason I am writing these lines is to seek Hazoor’s (Khalīfatul-Masīḥ) prayers
and that Hazoor and yourself would know my position and intention on the issue.
Humbly,
Muḥammad Dīn
(Translation from Urdu)
The decision made by Haji Sahib to leave his family behind and to live the rest
of his life in Qādiān raised many eyebrows within the family and outside. The
family did face hardship as a consequence. However, gradually, as Haji Sahib
predicted in the above letter to Mian Ṣāḥib, by the Grace of Allah, the difficulties
not only vanished but his sacrifice became a perpetual source of heavenly
blessings. The 17 years of supplication with complete devotion in Baitud-Du‘ā,
Baitul-Fikr and Masjid Mubārak were bound to bear fruit. The progeny of Haji Sahib,
by the grace of Allah, are reaping the material harvest while they are mindful of
their spiritual duties for the cause of Aḥmadiyyat and serving in various capacities
the best they can. Al-Ḥamdu Lillāh.
Due to skirmishes in Kashmir and hostile political environment, travel to and
from India was suspended. Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II was aware of the pain of the
families who were unable to see their loved ones who were serving as Darwaishes
in Qādiān. Around 1950, a meeting between the Darwaishes and their families was
arranged at the Wagah Crossing. This meeting took place at No Man’s Land, a
small strip between the borders of both countries. Among the family members of
Haji Sahib were myself, my mother and three sisters―Saleema, Tayyabah and
Bushra. I had been suffering from malaria those days. When Haji Sahib and other
Darwaishes arrived at No Man’s Land, I had developed a high fever. At times I
would slip into semi unconsciousness. The only thing that I remember from this
meeting was that while Haji Sahib spoke with other visitors, he held me on his lap
most of the day. He recited prayers for my recovery and said words of love and
affection. By the late afternoon, the allotted time for the meeting ended and parties
from either side bid farewell to each other. My temperature had also disappeared
and I was able to walk back to the Pakistani side where we boarded a bus for
Lahore.
To oversee the affairs of Darwaishes of Qādiān and to look after the welfare of
the families left behind, Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II established a new office known
as Niẓārat Khidmat-i-Darwaishān. He appointed Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr Aḥmad, his
younger brother, as the Nāẓir or in charge of this office. Mian Ṣāḥib, as he was often
called, devoted his life for the cause of Darwaishes and their families. He was
always very kind to Haji Sahib and frequently corresponded with him. For most of
the time, while Haji Sahib was in Qādiān, his sons were away from Rabwah for
studies or for employment. His youngest child, our sister Bushra, was studying at
Nusrat Girls High School. She would visit Mian Ṣāḥib if and when needed. She
was allowed to go to see Mian Ṣāḥib without protocol. Out of affection and his
sense of humor, Mian Ṣāḥib would call her “Chhotay Haji Sahib” or little Haji Sahib.
She had some fond memories of meetings with Mian Ṣāḥib and his relationship
with Haji Sahib, which she has narrated thus:
“Whenever HajiṢāḥib came to Rabwah on leave from Qādiān, he made it a point
to see Ḥaḍrat Mian Bashīr Aḥmad Ṣāḥib. He met him once on his arrival and again
before he left for Qādiān. Sometimes Mian Ṣāḥib also sent for him if he needed to
talk with him on some issues.
Once, during his visit to Rabwah, Haji Sahib went to see Mian Ṣāḥib at his residence
called Al-Bushrā. Because of Mian Ṣāḥib’s illness, he had been advised by his
physicians to refrain from giving audience to visitors. When Haji Sahib arrived at
the gate, the guard informed Haji Sahib that he could not see Mian Ṣāḥib because
of his ill health. Haji Sahib, did not want to cause any discomfort to Mian Ṣāḥib,
returned home without seeing him. When he came home, Haji Sahib mentioned to
me that he could not see Mian Ṣāḥib because of his ill health. Observing a sad look
on his face, I remarked ‘Abba Jee, do not worry! The next time you want to see
Mian Ṣāḥib, I will go with you and ask him if you could see him. ’Haji Sahib did
not take this advice on account of Mian Ṣāḥib’s health and went back to Qādiān
without seeing him.
Mian Ṣāḥib knew that Haji Sahib had come to Rabwah. When I went to see him
later, he asked me, ‘Haji Sahib was in Pakistan, I wonder why he did not come to
see me?’ I informed him that he came to see you but since you were not feeling
well, the guard prevented him from seeing you. That is the reason he went back to
Qādiān without seeing you.
Mian Ṣāḥib was writing something on a register. He placed the register on the bed
and told me, ‘Who stopped him from seeing me?’ I replied, ‘I do not know Mian
Ṣāḥib.’ He said, ‘I will find out. This must be Bashīr, my personal attendant.’
On seeing pain on Mian Ṣāḥib’s face, I tried to cheer him up by saying that you
were not feeling well that is why the attendant prevented Haji Sahib to see you. He
then remarked, ‘I wish you had accompanied Haji Sahib so it would not have
happened.’
After a while, when I wrote to Haji Sahib the detail of my meeting with Mian Ṣāḥib,
He replied, ‘It was very gracious of him.’
When Haji Sahib came on leave the following year, I accompanied him to Mian
Ṣāḥib’s house. Since I was allowed to go inside the residential quarters I could find
out without going through protocol if Mian Ṣāḥib was able to see Haji Sahib. As
soon as Mian Ṣāḥib’s attendant saw Haji Sahib, he began shouting, ‘Here comes
Haji Sahib, Here comes Haji Sahib. I have already been scolded by Mian Ṣāḥib for
not allowing Haji Sahib to see him. Please be seated and I will inform Mian Ṣāḥib
that you are here. Haji Sahib and I sat on the chairs in the verandah and soon Mian
Ṣāḥib made appearance. He told Haji Sahib:
My personal attendant and other staff sometimes say things that they are not
authorized to. Whenever you come from Qādiān, you must always see me before
your return. You have a great place in my heart. You are a companion of the
Promised Messiah and a Darwaish of Qādiān. Above all, you are a Ḥājī.’
On yet another occasion I went to see Mian Ṣāḥib. He was seated on his bed and
asked me in. He then said, ‘Bushra! Pray for me.’ I said, ‘It is you Mian Ṣāḥib who
we request for prayers and look forward to your prayers.’ He said, ‘You are a
daughter of a person who is Ḥājī, Ṣaḥābī and Darwaish. I have a great place for
him in my heart.’ I was too young to understand the significance of his remarks
but now, several years later, when I ponder on the sequence in which Mian Ṣāḥib
uttered his words, I realize that his love for the Prophet of Islam was above
anything else. And then, how much he respected a companion and a Darwaish of
the Promised Messiah!
If someone wrote to Mian Ṣāḥib for prayer, he advised that person to write to
Darwaishes of Qādiān for prayer also. Once, a young man from London wrote to
Mian Ṣāḥib that he was going through difficult times. He had lost his job and he
was facing financial hardship. Mian Ṣāḥib forwarded that letter to Haji Sahib with
a personal note asking him to offer special prayers for the young man and if Allah
showed any sign, or, if he saw anything in his dream, he should let him know. Haji
Sahib fervently prayed for the young man. Allah revealed to him that the young
man has not only been restored on his job but he has also been promoted. As such,
he apprised Mian Ṣāḥib of the situation he was shown in the dream. Mian Ṣāḥib
communicated to the young man that he had good news for him. ‘You will be
reinstated in your position and your salary will be increased.’
Soon after this correspondence, Haji Sahib came to Rabwah from Qādiān. Mian
Ṣāḥib asked him over and told him that the young man you prayed for is much
obliged and he has sent some money as a gift for you. It was a large sum that Mian
Ṣāḥib tried to give to Haji Sahib. Haji Sahib declined saying, ‘Mian Ṣāḥib! I do not
accept money in exchange for prayer.’ When Mian Ṣāḥib insisted he accepted that
money only because he did not want to be disobedient and disrespectful to Mian
Ṣāḥib.
Later, on some other occasion, I accompanied Haji Sahib on a meeting with Mian
Ṣāḥib. Haji Sahib took some money out of his pocket and wanted to give to Mian
Ṣāḥib. Mian Ṣāḥib would not accept that money. Haji Sahib broke into tears and
said that it would be an honor for him if he accepted this small gift from him. Mian
Ṣāḥib said, “Do not grieve; I will give this amount to Jamā‘at on your behalf to be
spent for a good cause.”
Whenever I recollect inspiring moments of meetings between Mian Ṣāḥib and Haji
Sahib, my heart fills with joy. The attachment of Haji Sahib with the family of the
Promised Messiah helped multiply my love and devotion for the family as well.”
Faiz Muḥammad Gujrāti, the author of “Woh Phool Jo Murjha Gaye” was also a
Darwaish in Qādiān who spent many years with Haji Sahib. His book is about
distinguished Darwaishes who passed away. Here are some extracts from his book
about Haji Sahib:
There is a prophecy in Aḥadīth that the Promised Messiah will dispense treasures.
Although it has several metaphorical meanings, yet this prophecy has also been
fulfilled in its literal meanings, because the blessings of the Promised Messiah and
Aḥmadiyyat pulled out thousands of families from obscurity to the ranks of the
famous. Therefore, I want to record this matter when I discuss life of Haji Sahib
who often drew comparison between both states of his life and would bow before
Allah in gratefulness for the blessings showered upon him after he took Bai‘at on
the hand of the Promised Messiah.
He had the distinction of leading Prayer in Masjid Mubārak for a long time and
also led collective prayers at the grave of the Promised Messiah. No doubt, many
Darwaishes came to him with request of prayers but Haji Sahib was among a few
who Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr Aḥmad Ṣāḥib wrote for prayer for the progress of
Aḥmadiyyat.”
You must have seen a boiling pot on the stove. This was the condition of Haji Sahib
when he prayed at the grave of the Promised Messiah after every Fajr Prayer. The
lengthy prayer with complete devotion presented a remarkable picture.
For a long time he lived in the room next to the steps of Masjid Mubārak where
once Ḥaḍrat Amman Jaan (wife of the Promised Messiah) lived. He spent most of
the time in Masjid Mubārak for his daily Prayers, Nawafil (optional Prayer) and
supplication.
We read in the Qur’an, “Pray, and We will answer your prayers.” Haji Sahib
spent a good deal of his time day and night praying in Baitud-Du‘ā, Baitul-Fikr and
the Masjid Mubārak. Allah answered his prayers.
There is a long list of people who wrote him requesting his prayers. A Hindu
of Amritsar, a town not far from Qādiān, came to know about Haji Sahib and asked
him to pray for him. He was married for a long time but did not have a child. Haji
Sahib prayed for him and Allah blessed him with a son. His joy was immense. He
requested Haji Sahib that whenever he went to Pakistan he should break his
journey on the way in Amritsar to spend some time with his family. Haji Sahib
obliged as often as he could. The Hindu couple showed great hospitality and
respected him like a father.
An Aḥmadī who was employed in Hong Kong wrote to Haji Sahib that his
contract with the company was expiring and he was to be unemployed soon. He
asked him to pray for the extension of his contract. Haji Sahib wrote to him that he
will pray for him. Soon after, the man wrote back that his contract was renewed
for a few more years and emphasized that this was the final extension of his
contract. At the end of second term of his contract, he again approached Haji Sahib
for prayers. Haji Sahib prayed for him and he got another extension that was totally
unexpected for him.
During Haji Sahib’s stay in Qādiān he also received letters from the family
members of the Promised Messiah. Besides Ḥaḍrat Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II and Ḥaḍrat
Khalīfatul-Masīḥ III, some of the members of the family who wrote him were
Ḥaḍrat Nawāb Mubāraka Begum and Ṣāḥibzādī Amatul-Ḥafīẓ Begum, both
daughters of the Promised Messiah. M.M. Aḥmad, the son of Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr
Aḥmad and the grandson of the Promised Messiah also wrote Haji Sahib for prayer.
In 1959 when I was a student and President of the Students Guild at the National
College of Arts, Lahore, M. M. Aḥmad, then Additional Chief Secretary of West
Pakistan, was Guest of Honor in one of the functions of the college. Professor Mark
Sponenburgh, Principal of the College asked me over and introduced me to him.
When I told M. M. Aḥmad that I was son of Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn, he remarked
that he knew him well and that he corresponded with him in Qādiān. Standing
next to me was my friend Sardar Munīr Aḥmad, son of Ḥaḍrat Abdur-Raḥmān
Mehr Singh, a distinguished companion of the Promised Messiah. I introduced
Munīr Aḥmad to Ṣāḥibzāda M.M. Aḥmad. Professor Sponenburgh was surprised
by the intimate conversation of three strangers who were meeting for the first
time.
Since he set his first sight on the Promised Messiah in Jhelum, Haji Sahib was
drawn so close by the charm of the Promised Messiah that he always remained
attached to him and his family. Late Ṣāḥibzāda Mirzā Waseem Aḥmad also moved
to Qādiān soon after the partition and served as Amīr of India Jamā‘at. Haji Sahib
showed great respect for Ṣāḥibzāda Mirzā Waseem Aḥmad, in his capacity as Amīr
and as a grandson of the Promised Messiah. He made it a point that whenever
Mian Ṣāḥib came to lead Prayer in the mosque and took off his shoes, he would
turn them around to make it convenient for Mian Ṣāḥib to put them on when he
left the mosque. In 1991 when Ṣāḥibzāda Mirzā Naeem Aḥmad, the brother of
Mirzā Waseem Aḥmad passed away, I sent a letter of condolence to Ṣāḥibzāda
Mirzā Waseem Aḥmad. A member of his staff wrote a formal reply and presented
the letter to Mian Ṣāḥib for his signature. Mian Ṣāḥib wrote a gracious note on the
letter in his own handwriting. The note read:
“Your letter has refreshed memories of your late father (Haji Sahib). During his stay
in Qādiān he boarded in Dārul-Masīḥ, in our residential quarters. I was a recipient
of his utmost love, affection and his prayers. Your mother and younger sister
(Bushra) also stayed near us in the residence of my mother, Ummi Waseem.
May Allah grant special protection, peace and happiness to the offspring of Haji
Sahib! Please convey my affectionate Salām to your Begum Ṣāḥiba.”
Mirzā Waseem Aḥmad.
In 1962, Haji Sahib’s eldest son, Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad of Aden, passed away.
Some members of the family of the Promised Messiah wrote kind letters of
condolence to Haji Sahib. While the originals of these and some other letters are
produced in this booklet elsewhere, here is the English translation of these letters:
London S.W. 18
August 13, 62
Revered and respected Maulawī Ṣāḥib, Peace of Allah unto you. As-
Salāmu‘Alaikum,
At the time I was leaving Lahore, I read in the Daily Al-Fazl about the demise of
your son Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad. Since I was not aware of his illness, the sad and
sudden news was very shocking. I intended to write to you from Karachi but could
not find time due to preoccupation with travel details. I also wrote a letter to the
wife of the deceased from here. Because of your prayers and Istikhāra, a personal
relationship spanning over many years has developed between us. She (wife of Dr.
Muḥammad Aḥmad) and her daughters stayed with me for a month. All these
factors make the news even sadder. I also realize that you are alone at this time of
the tragedy, away from home and from your family. May Allah grant patience
(Ṣabr Jamīl) to all of you and be Sustainer, Protector and Helper and may He exalt
the ranks of Dr. Ṣāḥib in the paradise. I feel the demise of Dr. Ṣāḥib as a personal
loss and feel the pain hitherto. Please remember us in your prayers.
Amatul-Ḥafīẓ Begum
The distinction of personal relationship with the Promised Messiah’s family
that Haji Sahib was blessed with, referred to by Sayyida Amatul-Ḥafīẓ in the above
letter, was especially due to Haji Sahib’s position as a companion of the Promised
Messiah, a Darwaish of Qādiān and his fervently offered prayers and Istikhāra for
the family members of the Promised Messiah. This relationship is also portrayed
in one of the letters Haji Sahib wrote to Sayyida Amatul-Ḥafīẓ in response to her
letter requesting prayers for her daughter’s marriage.
In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful…
Respected and Revered Sayyida Amatul-Ḥafīẓ, Peace, mercy and blessings of Allah
Almighty be unto you!
As directed by you, I offered Du‘ā Istikhāra for your loving daughter. I am writing
below whatever Allah revealed to me in my dream. Please rest assured that since
my stay in Diyār-i-Ḥabīb (Qādiān) I have been praying fervently every day. More
so in these very days, in compliance with your advice, I pray and cry before Allah
at the grave of the Masīh-i-Zamān (Messiah of the Time), and in Baitud-Du‘ā.
Sometimes I pray while I am walking and cannot control my emotions. This is my
duty that I am fulfilling with the help of Allah. May He accept my supplication!
After the Ishā Prayer when people leave the mosque, I perform Wuḍū (ablution)
and go to Bait-ud-Du‘ā for supplication. One night, I saw in my dream that I went
near your house to deliver a message of good news. There, outside the house, I
saw two girls, who are known to me, offering Prayer, I say to myself that when
these girls finish praying I will tell them that they should place something in front
of them before the start of Prayer so that the person passing in front of them does
not become an offender. Then I went to the gate of your house where I saw a young
and handsome man. I asked him if I wanted to go inside, please alert the household
to observe Parda, or, accompany me inside as I have a message to deliver. He said,
‘very well, I will go with you.’ After a little walk I said that it would be nice if he
could deliver the message so I can go back. Outside, in the courtyard, many happy
men and women are assembled as if it was a wedding or some other occasion. On
one side of this gathering I hear girls reciting Qur’ān and poems. At that moment
I woke up. It is likely that the handsome boy that I saw in the dream may be the
same that you have mentioned in your letter. Allah knows best!
In another dream I saw a young girl in white attire standing behind me. I am
addressing a large gathering consisting of Aḥmadīs and non-Aḥmadīs. Non-
Aḥmadīs were very impressed by my speech. Some of them seem to be inclined to
join the fold of Aḥmadiyyat. When we returned after the speech, we were
congratulated by many friends. One of them said that he was worried that some
miscreant might have attacked me. I said that would have been a wonderful
opportunity to become a martyr. The girl in the white dress that stood behind me
said, ‘The reason I was standing behind you was to become a martyr with you. ‘I
saw this dream on November 28 at 11.00 PM. May Allah make this dream a blessed
one.
Only Allah knows the best interpretation of these dreams. I have stated whatever
was shown to me. I have seen more dreams but I do not remember them. I am
convinced in my heart that your decision will be the blessed one.
The fact of the matter is that I am an ordinary person and I hold you in high esteem.
It should be you in reality that I should turn to for prayer for myself and for my
family that I have left behind for the sake of Allah. Please pray that Allah Almighty
be our Helper and that He may guide us to our goal.
Muḥammad Dīn
Second Letter of
Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Bashīr Aḥmad
Advocate of Learning
Haji Sahib received his basic education from Ḥaḍrat Maulawī Ṣāḥib Dīn of Tehāl
and later joined Khāriān Vernacular Middle School completing his early education
in 1897. He showed a deep interest in reading and studied any piece of literature
of Aḥmadiyya Jamā‘at that he acquired. He subscribed to all Jamā‘at newspapers
and magazines and read all the books that he collected, over and over again.
Haji Sahib was an embodiment of humility and modesty and always described
himself as dehaati (peasant). But from a very young age, this dehaati was so
enlightened and inspired that he was able to recognize the Promised Messiah, the
greatest truth of the time. A strong advocate of learning, he made concerted effort
to educate the people of his village. In his effort to rid the villagers of the scourge
of illiteracy and ignorance he was joined by his wife and our mother, Ayesha
Begum. He also inspired and encouraged his children to acquire as much
education as possible. Though a man of little means, he managed somehow to send
most of his children to Qādiān, and later, after the partition, to Rabwah for
education. At the time of this writing, by the grace of Allah, four of his
grandchildren are medical doctors and another three hold Ph.Ds. Two of his great
grandchildren, Yahya Luqman and Talha Chaudhary Ahmad are currently
serving as missionaries in the USA and Slovenia, respectively. He sent Dr.
Muḥammad Aḥmad, his eldest son from his first marriage, to Amritsar Medical
School. Having no funds for his education, Haji Sahib mortgaged his second house.
Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad became seriously ill at the time of his final exams. It
seemed almost impossible for him to complete his lab experiment because of
physical weakness. The College authorities thought that he would risk his life if he
took the exam and advised him to rest for a year. Having inherited firm resolve
and determination from his father, he managed to pass his medical exam. After
graduation, he went to Africa in search of a job. When his efforts bore no fruit in
Africa, he went to Aden. This journey also brought no luck. It was a very trying
time for the family. Having paid for his son’s medical education by mortgaging
the house to a non-Aḥmadī and for his travel to distant lands, Haji Sahib was under
heavy debt. He beseeched help from Allah through his fervent prayers. Soon, with
assistance from some friends in Aden, Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad was able to set up
a clinic. This clinic soon became a big success and he earned a good reputation and
the trust of the people of Aden that lasted as long as he lived. He also served as the
President of the Aden Jamā‘at. Traveling by air was uncommon in those days and
all ships voyaging from India/Pakistan to Africa and Europe stopped at the
thriving free port of Aden. Aḥmadī missionaries traveling to Africa had to make a
stop in Aden for transfer. Dr. Muḥammad Aḥmad always opened the doors of his
house to the missionaries and to other Aḥmadīs traveling back and forth to Africa
and Europe. He also had the honor of hosting some distinguished members of
Promised Messiah’s family and Ḥaḍrat Sir Zafrullah Khan.
There have been several occasions when members of Haji Sahib’s family faced
severe trials but Allah’s Mercy and Help descended from heavens and eased the
difficulties. I will give a brief account here of a few such incidents to express
gratitude to the most Merciful and the most Beneficent.
I finished third grade from Primary School in the nearby village Piyara. After
consultation with my mother, Ḥājī Ṣāḥib decided that I should join Khāriān School
for fourth grade. The main reason for this decision was an Aḥmadī teacher and a
family friend, Master Muḥammad Abdullāh. He was an able and kind teacher.
Traveling six miles a day on foot in extreme weather for a nine-year-old boy was
overlooked in favor of my better education. In fact, even at this age, I hardly ever
thought that walking on foot three miles each way was a hardship. Running up
and down the rough terrain of Tehāl had prepared us well for such tasks. At that
time, two of my elder brothers, Latīf Aḥmad and Rafiq Aḥmad were already
studying in Khāriān in the sixth and the fifth grades, respectively. Winter season
was bad enough for walking back and forth to school but the scorching heat of
summer at noon, the closing time of school, was intolerable. Haji Sahib made an
arrangement with a noble Aḥmadī, Nūr Dīn Kashmīrī of Khāriān. We spent a few
hours after school in the front yard of his residence. A few more Aḥmadī students,
all our neighbors, also used this facility. We left his house when the shadows began
to lengthen and temperature dropped to a bearable degree.
One afternoon, after we left the house of our benefactor and had walked about
a mile, we noticed dark gray clouds over the hills in the northwest. Never in my
life had I seen such dark and frightening clouds. It was a signal for a severe sand
and rainstorm. In no time the storm caught up with us and began to punish us
with sand and debris mixed with rain. We covered our faces with our hands and
began to look for a shelter. It was around four o’clock and would have been bright
daylight but the storm had made it pitch dark. Only a burst of lightning would
give us some sense of our whereabouts and direction. We noticed a tree and took
shelter under it. The cover of the tree was hardly enough to protect us from the
gusting winds and rain. Since the tree did not provide enough protection, we
decided to move on. No sooner had we come out of it when the tree fell with the
force of the wind. A few seconds more under the tree and we would have been
helplessly buried under it.
So strong were the winds that, in spite of our effort we were driven southward,
further and further away from our path. Bracing these harsh conditions, our group
managed to get near a farm of an Aḥmadī named Chaudhary Fazl Ilāhī of Khāriān
who was the father-in-law of my teacher, Master ‘Abdullāh Ṣāḥib. The farm had
irrigation well and a hut built nearby. Bashīr Aḥmad Bhatti, a fifth grader, was
almost blown into the well. All, except I, managed to get to the hut.
Left behind, I tried to climb up a ramp but the force of wind knocked me down.
I made two more attempts but each time I was thrown back. My light summer
outfit was soaked in water and the cold wind and rain had created winter-like
conditions. Having lost energy, I nestled myself down the ramp in a prostrated
position. I covered my face with both hands to protect myself from the elements.
With all my colleagues gone and myself left at the mercy of the storm, I thought
that it was the end and surrendered myself for the ultimate.
I thought of two Hindu students, both brothers, who, the year before, were also
caught in a similar storm. One of them died and the other suffered trauma. Away
from home and in such a helpless situation, I began crying.
While I was laying in this miserable condition, a stranger, who was also caught
in the storm and took shelter in the same hut, asked the boys to check if everybody
among us had managed to get to the hut. They thought they did until they made
a second check in the darkness of the hut and found that I was not among the lucky
ones.
In a while, Manzoor Aḥmad, a seventh grader and the eldest among us, and
my elder brother, Latīf Aḥmad, came out to look for me. I heard them shout my
name as they looked around searching for me. I tried to shout back but my feeble
voice was lost in the gusting winds. Finally, a burst of lightning helped them spot
me. They grabbed me from each of my arms and dragged me to the hut.
After a while the storm began to clear though the light rain continued. We came
out of the hut and instead of going towards our village Tehāl, headed towards the
village Piyara, located about a mile before Tehāl. We knew that it would be
impossible to cross a small river between Piyara and Tehāl that was mostly dry
but flooded during heavy rains.
We knocked at the door of a family who were related to an Aḥmadī family in
Tehāl. They were preparing to go to bed but received us kindly. They offered the
leftover food and provided charpoys for us to sleep.
It is not hard to imagine the plight of our parents thinking about the worst
possible outcome in such a severe storm. Haji Sahib and parents of other students
came to the bank of the river and helplessly shouted and hoped for a response
from the other side of the river. They made several search attempts but gave up
when the night fell. Naturally they supplicated all along for our safety.
Their prayers were answered when all of us showed up on the outskirts of the
village the next morning.
Haji Sahib believed that if you invoke Allah’s help, He comes to your help. If
you invoke His Mercy, you will be a recipient of His Mercy. He was often heard
reciting the following prayer that he had also inscribed on the façade of our house.
Rabbi Kullu Shai’in Khādimuka, Rabbi Fahfaẓnā Wanṣurnā Warḥamnā
The prayer translates as, O my Sustainer, all creation is at Thy service. O my
Sustainer, protect us and help us and have mercy upon us.
In 1967, my elder brother, Naīm Aḥmad Waseem, was sick with back pain. A
physician negligently prescribed a dose of medicine several times above the
recommended dose. This resulted in severe reaction causing burns all over his
body and severely attacking his internal organs. He was taken to Civil Hospital
Karachi in rapidly deteriorating condition. An expert physician in the hospital
observed that his condition was extremely critical. The only remedy he suggested
was an injection that could either kill him or reverse his condition. After the
injection was administered, Brother Naīm Aḥmad’s condition began to improve
gradually. Allah granted him another 30 years of life. He passed away in 2011
while actively and efficiently serving as Qā’id Finance USA and Secretary Finance
Central New Jersey Chapter.
In the early eighties, brother Naīm Aḥmad’s wife, Sādiqa Begum was
diagnosed with cancer. The cancer reached the point that she became a skeleton
and her elder brother, a noted physician himself, observed that she was not going
to survive. But the prayers of Haji Sahib and family members were at work and so
was Allah’s Mercy and Grace. It was no less than a miracle that she survived the
cancer and is now enjoying the blessings of Allah amidst her happy family who
are dedicated to Jamā‘at. It is noted with gratitude that both husband and wife,
like Haji Sahib, regularly offered Tahajjud Prayers and passed the blessings of their
prayers to their offspring.
During all these trials in the family, whether he knew it or not, Haji Sahib was
fervently supplicating and seeking Allah’s favor for his family and for the Jamā‘at
in Bait-ud-Du‘ā and Bait-ul-Fikr, the very rooms where the Promised Messiah
beseeched Allah’s mercy and bounties for his physical and spiritual household.
Allah surely answered the prayers of both, the master and the disciple.
Forgiveness
A man from the nearby village knocked at the door and asked Haji Sahib if he
could borrow his horse for an errand. The man assured him that he was traveling
a short distance and he will return the horse in a couple of days. Rarely did Haji
Sahib turn down any request for help. He allowed the man to use his horse for the
trip. The man did not go a short distance as he had said but went a long distance
in the rugged mountains of Kashmir. He also took with him his brother on the trip
both riding on the horse at the same time. Little can be said if they allowed the
horse to rest during the rough trip or if they fed the horse properly. The horse
collapsed climbing a steep hill and died. The brothers returned to Haji Sahib with
embarrassment and offered apology with a bag of money as compensation. Haji
Sahib sent the men away with their money as it was against the teachings of Islam
to accept compensation for an accidental loss. Although the horse died because of
cruelty and negligence on the part of the men, Haji Sahib would not interpret the
teachings of Islam to his advantage.
The horse was Haji Sahib’s faithful companion and indispensable vehicle in his
life. He used the horse to visit nearby Aḥmadī Jamā‘ats (chapters) on business or
personal trips. He did not grieve at this loss nor did he express any outrage. His
only expression was “Innā Lillāhi Wa Innā Ilaihi Rāji‘ūn” (Surely everything is for
Allah and to Him shall we return).
After the loss of the horse, Haji Sahib made a few attempts to learn how to ride
a bike. The bicycle proved too technical for a person who rode most of his life on a
horseback. It was much easier for a man of his generation to tame a beast than an
industrial product. After a few bruises on his legs and ankles, he gave up the idea
of learning to bike and traveled on foot to most of his scheduled destinations.
“As far as I know he never missed a Tahajjud Prayer,” read one of the letters of
condolence addressed to our mother when Haji Sahib passed away. It was indeed
with Tahajjud Prayer that his day began. His day actually began in the thick of the
night. He woke up for Tahajjud Prayer at about 3.00am or earlier, while we were in
deep slumber. Whether offering Tahajjud Prayer in the mosque or at home, he
cried profusely while prostrating before Allah. He would supplicate for all of us,
for neighbors, friends and relatives, and for the Khalīfa, the Jamā‘at and for the
Ummah at large. “His cries of supplication resembled the sound of a boiling pot on
a stove,” wrote Faiz Muḥammad, the author of ‘Woh Phool Jo Murjha Ga’e’. He went
to the mosque and performed ablution with ice-cold water in the winter for Fajr
Prayer. He called Adhan for Fajr Prayer and made fire under a large urn to heat up
water for other worshippers to make ablution. By the time worshippers began to
arrive, they had the warm water waiting for them. Sometimes, the duty of heating
the water with waste from dried millet was assigned to us, the young boys. The
thick smoke from these straws was unbearable. It made us choke and left our eyes
watery and burning.
Haji Sahib’s habit of rising early in the morning and walking back and forth
between the mosque and his house with a large bamboo staff kept prospective
thieves from making any attempt of robbing a house in the village. He actually
scared away one gang trying to break into a house. The villagers were very
appreciative of Haji Sahib getting up so early without understanding the
importance of Tahajjud Prayer. In him they had found an efficient volunteer night
watchman.
Back home after the Fajr Prayer, Haji Sahib helped in the household chores. By
late morning, he went to the local post office that he managed. He impatiently
waited for the Dakia (mailman) who was dispatched on foot from the main post
office in Khāriān. By then, some village folks, expecting mail from their relatives,
mainly those serving in the military, also gathered at the post office. The sight of
the Dakia, briskly walking with a sealed canvas bag hooked with a spear and hung
on his shoulder, created excitement and murmur. Haji Sahib broke the seal open,
checked the mail and distributed it among the addressees. He then picked up his
personal mail that usually included the Daily Al-Fazl or other Jamā‘at organs and
letters of instructions from Qādiān. Then he went to the Aḥmadiyya mosque for
his daily reading. There, he had his roughly woven cot laid in a corner, away from
the usual crowd, under the peepal tree. He read Daily Al-Fazl and other organs page-
by-page and line-by-line. He then took a nap on the same cot until lunch and Ẓuhr
Prayer. He called Adhān, or asked someone to do so, and then led the Prayer. As
he walked back and forth from the house to the mosque he, in the tradition of the
Prophet of Islam, picked up rocks, thorns or any obstacle in the way.
After the Maghrib (evening) Prayer, when Haji Sahib descended the stairs of the
mosque, he often encountered a woman or two, holding their sick babies in their
arms with a request for prayer. Haji Sahib prayed for the sick on the spot and tried
to cheer them up with kind and witty words. Haji Sahib often showed his sense of
humor with his light remarks to one or the other worshippers that sent a wave of
laughter.
Haji Sahib was a generous host and made sure that the guests were comfortable
in every respect. Whenever a representative of the Jamā‘at came from Qādiān,
either on the invitation of Haji Sahib or sent by Markaz, the house wore a festive
look. Our mother and sisters occupied themselves preparing the best meals they
could. We the boys also had our instructions to look after the comfort of the guest.
Tehāl was one rare source of pure ghee (processed butter) and honey and Haji
Sahib supplied both commodities to a large list of his friends and acquaintances in
every corner of the subcontinent. The farmers sold butter to Haji Sahib for cash and
our mother spent a good deal of the day converting it into pure ghee by heating it.
Once pure ghee was extracted from butter, Haji Sahib then filled the large canisters
and welded them to seal perfectly. The canisters were then dispatched to their
destination via railroad. Once in Rabwah, my dear friend Sardar Munir Aḥmad
asked me if I would like to meet Deputy Sharif Aḥmad, a respected Aḥmadī. I
thought it would be an honor to meet this noble man. We both went to his house
and when he appeared on the front door, Sardar Munir Aḥmad said, “This is
Rashid Arshed, son of Ḥājī Muḥammad Dīn Tehālvī.” To that Deputy Sharif
Aḥmad briskly responded with excitement, “Oh, you are from Tehāl, the village
on top of the hill. I have been there. When I was in Bombay, Haji Sahib used to send
me canisters of pure ghee.”
There was not a dull moment in Haji Sahib’s life. He was always on the go. He
routinely traveled on his horse or on foot to nearby Jamā‘ats, on an official visit or
just for a courtesy call. Besides being President (Secretary in those days), of Jamā‘at
Aḥmadiyya Tehāl, he was also appointed by Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II to supervise
nearby Jamā‘ats. He also served as Inspector of Aḥmadiyya Elementary School,
Khāriān. This school later became Aḥmadiyya High School and served the area
best until it was taken over by the Government in 1971under the so-called
nationalization of all educational institutions by Z. A Bhutto. That was a severe
blow to the education system from which the country has not recovered since.
Alas! Two reputable institutions of Jamā‘at, Ta‘līm-ul-Islām High School and
Ta‘līm-ul-Islām Degree College Rabwah also became victims of this ill-conceived
policy. Arranging public meetings for Tablīgh in Tehāl or Khāriān was another
activity that kept Haji Sahib on the march.
Companion of Life
Ten thousand miles away from Tehāl and a quarter of a century later, two
women from Tehāl were conversing in the West Coast of Canada. Coincidently,
they met at the opening ceremony of the Aḥmadiyya mosque in Calgary by Ḥaḍrat
Mirzā Mansoor Aḥmad, the Fifth Khalīfa of the Promised Messiah. “You have no
idea what Beevi Jee meant to us,” said the first woman, named Saira. She was
referring to Haji Sahib’s wife, our mother, Ayesha Begum, who was addressed by
the village folks as ‘Beevi Jee’ (revered lady) out of respect. The woman, Saira was
speaking with was Amatul-Quddūs, one of Haji Sahib's granddaughters who lived
in Portland, Oregon. Saira continued, “A child was born in our family with twisted
legs. Beevi Jee spent 24 hours with the newborn, praying and massaging the legs
of the infant. By the Grace of Allah, child’s legs were healed within a short time. If
it weren't for the physical labor, affection, the fervent prayers of Beevi Jee and the
Mercy of Allah, our child might have lived with disability for the rest of his life.”
Such was the companion of life of Haji Sahib, our mother, who was gifted with
wisdom, knowledge and a kind heart. She dedicated her time in the service of the
community without any material reward and never thought of it. She was among
the best-learned persons without attending school for a single day. She was among
the best physicians without studying in a medical school. She was a psychologist
without even knowing the definition of psychology. She was a Sufi woman
without her persuasion of any Sufi order.
After the untimely demise of Hussain Bibi, the first wife of Ḥājī Ṣāḥib, Ḥaḍrat
Maulānā Ghulām Rasūl Rājekī met Ḥājī Ṣāḥib and said that he knew a match that
was made just for him. Ḥaḍrat Maulānā Ghulām Rasūl Rājekī knew the family of
my mother, Ayesha Begum. Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm, the elder brother of our
mother, studied in Qādiān in Madrasah Aḥmadiyya under the tutorship of
Maulānā Ghulām Rasūl Rājekī. Ḥājī Ṣāḥib responded to this proposal and took a
twelve-mile journey to Fatehpur, the village of our mother, near Gujrāt.
“I was climbing the stairs of the house of our neighbor to return to our house
from the rooftop and saw Ḥājī Ṣāḥib sitting with other men in the courtyard. I was
later informed that my marriage to him had been proposed,” explained our
mother.
“The paradise lies at the feet of the mother,” said the Prophet of Islam. This is
a lofty position that a woman is blessed with in Islam. It defines the high rank that
a woman does or should occupy in any society. If mothers are educated, they will
pass on the candle of light to their children. If the mothers are trained to be noble,
they will impart noble qualities to their children. Thus they can make their
household a paradise in this world and prepare their children to inherit the
Paradise in the life hereafter.
Mother was married at a young age but she raised three children of Haji Sahib
from Hussain Bibi, his deceased wife, with much affection. One day, Muhammad
Ahmad, the oldest child was playing with children outside that someone told him
that his mother was dead. He came home crying and going straight into the lap of
Mother and said, “Why are they saying you are dead?”
After her marriage, when our mother came to Tehāl, the task before her was
enormous. To educate the rowdy and ignorant people of Tehāl and to inculcate the
norms of civility was not an easy matter. But her missionary zeal, her patience and
her dedication not only made this apparently impossible job possible but the way
she did it made it look very easy.
“I took it upon myself to educate women of Tehāl. The first one to come was
an Aḥmadī woman, Channi, who learned to read the Qur’ān and some basic books.
This broke the ice and more women and children began to flock,” narrated our
mother.
The house of Haji Sahib soon became a regular learning center. Women and
children came in the morning; they came in the afternoon and they came whenever
they had free time. Mother was there to teach everyone, one child at a time, one
woman at a time; explaining with patience, love and care; each letter, each syllable,
sounds of letters, pronunciations of words and their meanings. She taught them
the numerals and how to write. She also taught them etiquette of life; how to carry
themselves and how to address elders and show respect to both, the elder and the
younger. The doors were open to all, Aḥmadī and non-Aḥmadī, women and
children. In a few years, the change began to show in the village. The darkness
began to disappear and light began to shine.
The magnet has a field of influence. The larger the power of a magnet, the
wider is the field. The field of the light of learning began to widen with every new
dawn.
In Mother, women of Tehāl found a teacher, a counselor, a mentor, a friend
and a confidant. They came for advice on matrimonial matters, on family matters
and in the matter of health. She calmly attended to everyone, giving a piece of
advice, a prescription or medicine. She healed the depressed and the suffering with
her kind words or practical advice. She cured many with the best medicine of all,
the study of the Qur’ān. Soon, she was the most loved and most sought after in the
village.
The scene of the courtyard was very lively. There were children reciting their
lessons in a corner, a woman or two sitting near Mother for private discussion
while she paid attention to all; tutoring the children, feeding the chickens and the
chicks, cooking food on the coal stoves and issuing instructions that the animals
should be fed or taken to the village pond for a dip or to drink water. Some girl
students would help in the household chores, an activity they considered a
privilege. Some women sent their little girls in case Mother needed help or just to
benefit from her company.
One of the most memorable and commendable of all the services rendered by
Mother to the community was fixing broken bones. And many broken bones were
around resulting from a fight, fall from a horse or a cliff or being gored by a bull.
Allah provided for her the opportunity to learn this skill in a very unusual way. A
woman in the neighborhood struck a hen with a stick and broke its leg. She
brought the hen to mother. Mother grabbed the hen and with a gentle touch and
repositioned the leg at its place correctly. Then she placed thin, flat pieces of wood
and tied them around her leg with a string. The bandage was opened after two
days and a check-up gave the hen a clean bill of health. The hen jumped off her
hands and joined her flock.
Our mother narrated, “The first case that was brought to my attention was the
fractured arm of a boy who broke it in a fight. His bone was twisted like a bow and
the skin of the arm dropping on one side. His sister came to me wailing and crying
for help. I pulled the bone and positioned it in place. The broken bone was healed
in a few days. Then the word spread around, and by the Grace of Allah, I was able
to fix bones of hundreds of people, who came from far and near.”
I will not forget the scene when a boy in his early teens was brought with a
fractured collarbone. During the entire time Mother treated him, he continuously
spat profanity at her blaming her for his misery. Anyone in Mother’s place would
have lost patience and temper, but she wore an affectionate smile and paid full
attention to her job without malice. Eventually he calmed down when the bone
was in its place and had been bandaged.
Many cases were brought to her where a person came with an arc shaped arm
or leg. Obviously the patient was handled by a quack. Mother had to reverse the
process by applying a paste made of starch and kept under the bandage until the
misplaced joint softened and was workable. There was not an instance, by the
Grace of Allah, where a patient came and he was not treated successfully.
Mother continued treating patients with fractured bones until she was in her
mid-eighties. She treated a number of patients when she moved to Rabwah. She
never charged a penny for her service. When an adult male patient came for help,
she observed parda, covering her face with a scarf while treating the patient.
I asked Mother if she had done any other memorable act. She recalled saving
the life of a woman who got buried under a mudslide while washing clothes on
the bank of a river near her native village Fatehpur, “It happened before my eyes
and I rushed to help her. I pushed the big chunk of mud with all the energy I could
muster. By the Grace of Allah the woman came out alive.”
It was because of her loving and caring personality and selfless service to
humanity that she earned great respect from a large number of her beneficiaries.
The Aḥmadī women of Tehāl simply adored her. In 1952 or so, in compliance with
the instructions of Khalīfatul-Masīḥ II, Haji Sahib advised the family to move and
settle in Rabwah permanently. Most of us did but Mother chose to stay in Tehāl
because the Aḥmadī women of Tehāl would not let her go. Nor would she like to
part with them. The hard water of Rabwah also did not suit her health. Except for
short intervals of stay in Rabwah, she continued to stay in Tehāl. In the beginning,
some of her children also stayed with her from time to time. Finally a time came
when, either because of employment, education or other family reasons, none of
the children were able to stay with her.
In the early eighties, I went to see her in Tehāl. She was alone in the house that
once hustle and bustle with children, visitors and pet animals. There was no smoke
coming out of the tandoor, no steaming pots on the stoves, no colorful chicks
roaming around. The house also showed signs of decay due to neglect. The women
still came to see her with same affection and she called on them when needed. But
I realized that the time had come for Mother to say farewell to Tehāl. Perhaps she
had also realized the moment of truth. On my suggestion, she grudgingly nodded
and began putting together her few belongings. It was a difficult moment for her
and for the Aḥmadī women of Tehāl as well. Down the trail leading to the village
water-well, she walked pensively with a heavy heart, perhaps listening to voices
resonating from the past; the children holding their prayer books in their hands
and reciting:
Subḥāna kalla humma WaBi-Ḥamdika Wa Tabāra kasmuka WaTa‘ālā Jadduka Wa La
iIlāha Ghairuk
Glory to Thee, O Allah, and praise is for Thee. And blessed is Thy Name, and
exalted is Thy Majesty. And there is no deity to be worshipped but Thee
While in Rabwah, Mother suffered a stroke when she was in her late eighties.
I visited her in 1989. She was bed-ridden, and although she could hear and
understand the words spoken to her, she was unable to answer back. When
leaving, I went to her bed to say good-bye. It was a difficult moment. I was full of
guilt leaving her behind in her illness. She never left me alone in my sickness.
Brother Mubārak Aḥmad helped me out and said to her that Rashid has to go now.
I could only read her eyes. There was so much she would have wanted to tell me.
On August 28, 1991 this embodiment of love surrendered her soul to her
Creator.
The weather had been extremely hot in Rabwah for the last two months. There
was not a single cloud in the sky when the Funeral Prayer for Mother was held in
Bahishti Maqbara. Soon after the body was laid to rest and the grave covered with
mud, clouds appeared from behind the hill and the showers of Allah’s Mercy
began to pour in the form of a drizzle. No cloud was seen again for the next few
months. A unique occurrence of heavenly blessings for a saintly woman!
The person most responsible in shaping the character of Mother was her elder
and only brother Ḥaḍrat Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm (not to be confused with Ḥaḍrat
Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm Sialkoti, another distinguished companion of the
Promised Messiah). The story of Haji Sahib and Mother would be incomplete
without the mention of Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm. He was very fond of learning right
from his early age. Being the only son he was very protective of his mother and
much loved by his two sisters, Ayesha Begum, our mother and the elder sister
Halima, our Aunt. There was much struggle between Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm and
his mother to achieve their respective ambitions. He wanted to leave home to study
and his mother wanted him to stay home close to her. Knowing that his mother
will never allow him to leave home, he made a secret attempt to go to Qādiān to
study. On discovering this, his mother sent a search party to bring him back. They
found him in a bookstore known as “Shaikh Ilāhī Bakhsh Rahim Bakhsh Book
Sellers.” This store was located in Muslim Bazaar, Gujrat, and run by a
distinguished Aḥmadī family. When he saw the search party, he made an
unsuccessful attempt to hide behind the pile of books. His second such attempt to
go to Qādiān was successful and on arriving there he joined Madrasah Aḥmadiyya
Qādiān where the best of the best teachers were on the faculty. Among them were
Ḥaḍrat Sayyid Mīr Muḥammad Isḥāq, Ḥaḍrat Sayyid Muḥammad Sarwar Shāh,
Ḥaḍrat Ḥāfiz Roshan ‘Alī, Ḥaḍrat Maulawī Sher ‘Alī, Ḥaḍrat Maulānā Ghulām
Rasūl Rājekī and other luminaries. On arriving in Qādiān, he wrote a letter to his
mother appreciating her love for him and explaining why it was important for him
to study in Qādiān. He came to his native village, Fatehpur, after a four-year study
in Madrasah Aḥmadiyya, Qādiān.
Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm learned about a scholar of repute in a faraway valley
of Kashmir. Accompanied by a friend he took a journey to Kashmir to study under
his tutorship. The long and arduous journey was traveled on foot. Wandering from
place to place and seeking knowledge from the learned was a common practice in
those days. We read in the biography of Ḥaḍrat Maulawī Nūrud-Dīn Khalīfatul-
Masīḥ I that he traveled to many far off cities of India to study. Whenever the
reputation of a teacher reached him, he set upon a journey with little means,
staying in mosques or wherever he could find an abode. Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm
and his colleague carried with them only one cooking pan, some flour and lentils,
and two sheets of cloth each. They used one sheet as a prayer rug or spread it
around them when they slept in the open, and the second as outerwear to protect
them from cold. They kneaded the flour in the pan, emptied the pan placing the
dough on a clean stone slab handmade chapatis on the pan placed upside down on
the fire. Then they cooked the lentils in the same pan. So simple was the lifestyle
of Godly people. Such was the zeal for pursuit of knowledge.
Mother’s schooling was done at home and Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm, her
brother, was her tutor. During the little time they had together, he taught her how
to read, write and basic rules of grammar. It was due to this training that Mother
composed some beautiful poems in Urdu and Punjabi.
For his love of learning, Maulawī ‘Abdul-Karīm spent a great deal of his time
reading books. It was due to this reason perhaps, narrated our mother, that he
developed tuberculosis. On the advice of doctors, he moved from Fatehpur to
Tehāl for cleaner air. He passed away in 1924 at the young age of 35 and was buried
in Tehāl grave yard. Haji Sahib always mentioned him with great respect, admiring
his piety and scholarship.
In the summer of 1965, Haji Sahib came to Rabwah on his annual leave. There,
the condition of his enlarged prostate, worsened. He was taken to Mayo Hospital,
Lahore, and had an operation. When his condition improved, he was discharged
and taken back to Rabwah. The arduous bus journey of over a hundred miles took
its toll and his stitches were rendered open. He was taken back to Lahore and
readmitted. I was employed in Karachi in those days and was also busy with my
BA examinations. It was left to my other siblings to serve him during the crucial
days of his ailment. Our elder brothers, Mubārak Aḥmad, Latīf Aḥmad Arif, and
sister Salima Mubāraka and others served him with utmost care. When I was done
with the first part of my BA examination I took some days off and came to Lahore
to attend to him. Though bed-ridden and looking frail, he inquired if I had done
well in my examination. I stayed with him for a week or so and went back to
Karachi for the second part of my examination. Brother Mubārak Aḥmad came
from Peshawar to take my place.
At the end of my examination, and with the long summer vacation ahead, I
came to Lahore again and relieved my brother Mubārak Aḥmad. Haji Sahib’s
condition had not improved but, throughout my stay with him, I never heard him
complain about anything. To people, who came to visit him and inquired about
his health, he always replied, “Allah da Shukr eh,” (I am grateful to Allah).
Among the large number of people who came to see him during his illness
were three women from Tehāl: our neighbors Maasi Amna, Mughlani and
Rasheedah. They spent the day with Haji Sahib. He may have recognized them but
he was too weak to say a word. They left in the afternoon to catch the train back
home. I went to the railway station to see them off. Sitting on the concrete floor of
the platform as they waited for the train, Rasheedah took a five Rupee bill tied in
a knot of her scarf and with a subdued tone asked me to accept it. I did not need
this money nor could I have accepted such money under any condition especially
from a woman who I knew must have saved it with some difficulty. When I
declined, the tears rolled down her cheeks and she pleaded again, “Please accept
it!” The other two women also advocated her case in chorus. I was left with no
choice but to accept for her extreme expression of love for Haji Sahib and his family.
Nearly fifty years later, when much has been obliterated from my memory, these
three women sitting at the railway platform, with tears in Rasheedah’s eyes and
grief on the faces of the other two, are still fresh in my mind.
On June 17, 1965, the condition of Haji Sahib began to deteriorate. Sensing the
obvious, I went to the nearest post office and sent telegrams to relatives and
friends. One of the telegrams sent to our eldest brother Mubārak Aḥmad in
Peshawar read, “Last Moments, reach Rabwah.” It reached just in time for him to
catch the Express train that was leaving in two hours. He was in Rabwah the
following morning.
When I returned from the post office, Haji Sahib had slipped into coma. I
informed the attending physician who was standing in the balcony to disconnect
the tubes. Looking at the condition of Haji Sahib, he remarked, “You are right,” and
removed the tubes.
The servant of Allah had gracefully embraced the last command of his Master.
It was late afternoon of June 17, 1965.
“And thou, O soul at peace!
Return to thy Lord well pleased with Him and
He was well pleased with thee.
So enter thou among My chosen servants,
And enter thou My Garden.
Qur’ān, Al-Fajr, 28-31
It took me a few hours to arrange for the ambulance and make other necessary
arrangements to transport the remains of Haji Sahib to Rabwah. Our sister Salima,
and our cousin sister Kulsoom, who had come from Fatehpur, were also present
in Lahore to attend to Ḥājī Ṣāḥib. The three of us rode to Rabwah with the coffin of
Haji Sahib.
It was about 3 AM when I knocked at the door of our house in Rabwah. Our
mother woke up and opened the door. There was no need to break the news. She
had sensed the situation when she saw me standing in front of her in the wee
hours. However, I managed to utter, “Abba Jee has arrived.”
Brother Mubārak Aḥmad and other relatives, who were sent telegrams, arrived
on time to attend Funeral Prayers.
Hazrat Maulana Jalaluddin Shams led the funeral prayers and Haji Sahib was
buried in Bahishti Maqbara. Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Nasir Aḥmad, then Nazir Khidmat-e-
Darvaishan led the collective prayer. After the Prayer, he spoke with the family
and expressed kind words of sympathy.
The darvaishs of Qadian always showed love and respect for Haji Sahib, and
it seems that it was out of this spirit that the author of “Woh Phool Jo Murjha Gaye”
questioned why Haji Sahib’s remains were not taken back to Qādiān. For the sake
of record, I would like to explain here that if it were really necessary, I am sure
Hazrat Mirza Nasir Ahmad would have so advised. Secondly, it would have been
almost impossible to transport the remains in the scorching heat of summer,
especially when the facilities for such a task were non-existent or beyond reach at
that time. Thirdly, after the bloody skirmishes of Rann of Kutch, tensions were
high between India and Pakistan and armies of both countries were deployed all
along the Wagah Crossing, the route to Qādiān. The war that was imminent
eventually broke out in less than two months, eliminating all possibilities of travel
to India.
May Allah shower His choicest blessings on Haji Sahib, the dedicated servant
of Islam and Aḥmadiyyat, and may his progeny follow his footsteps. Āmīn.
Postscript
Tehāl, Impression of Mian ‘Abdul-Ḥalīm of Jhelum.
After I had completed the manuscript of this booklet, my attention was drawn
to a report published in the Daily Al-Fazl, Rabwah. Mian Abdul-Ḥalīm of Jhelum,
the author of this report, sent it to Ḥaḍrat Mirzā Nasir Aḥmad, Khalīfatul-Masīḥ
III. Mian ‘Abdul-Ḥalīm had served in Tehāl under the Waqf-i-Aarzi Scheme. This
letter also shows how Aḥmadiyyat had transformed the life of people of Tehāl,
who once lived a life of ignorance and who were devoid of any moral and spiritual
qualities.
“This time, under the scheme of Waqf-e-Aarzi, I went to Tehāl; a small village
located along the range of hills in the north of Khāriān. Here, water is scarce and
greenery a rare sight. During the summer, the dry hills around Tehāl made the
summer even harsher and thirst more unbearable. The cattle were no exception to
this misery. Tehāl was also without electricity that deprived the villagers from
electric fans and electric lamps. Briefly, Tehāl is deprived of every amenity that
one finds in a city.
The buggy driver stopped one mile short of Tehāl. “There is Tehāl, sitting on
top of the hill” he said and asked me to cross the river and walk the remaining
distance on foot. The path after this point was very rough for any vehicle. The
driver then asked me, “What Has Brought the dweller of a city here, in this
deserted place in scorching heat? You will not find water to drink at this place.”
Such was the condition of the place where I had arrived for Waqf-e-Aarzi. But
when I began my work under the divine scheme, the contentment was
overwhelming. The immense love and intimacy shown by the members of Jamā‘at
hinted at the “universal bond of brotherhood”, one of the objectives of Waqf-e-
Arzi Scheme. When I completed my short tenure, I noticed the sadness on the faces
of the members of Jamā‘at. They insisted that I extend my stay in Tehāl and if, for
any reason, it was not possible, then I should come again. On the other hand, my
own condition was such that when I returned home, I was taken over by
melancholy and restlessness. The city with all its attraction appeared very dull. I
could never erase the memory of my friends of a place where I experienced the
best example of spiritual brotherhood. I wished I had more time to spend with the
people of this valley. The mutual love was evident from the fact that within a week,
the Financial Secretary of Tehāl, Bashīr Aḥmad came to visit me and insisted that
I should come again… My own family members began to tell me, “You have come
back but you have left your heart in Tehāl…”
(Translation from Urdu, Source Al-Fazl International, London, September16, 2008,
originally published in Daily
Al-Fazl, Rabwah, August 16, 1968)
Index