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One evening when Abbas was tired and didn’t want to work any
more, he sat and talked about the various changes that would come
about in society and how culture and civilisation would change in
the years to come. He specially talked about the great threat of
television, of how there would be a television set in every house
and how the television set would be one of the most important discoveries
of modern man. He also talked about how the print media would face
a major challenge because of TV but would never surrender "because
television would show things and facts and fade away but print,
the printed word, the books would stay on for generations. He talked
about how television had brought about great changes in the west
and how it would do the same to India. “Television is just
the beginning of a communication circus," he said. Abbas soon
switched over to the past and to one of his favourite stories which
I remember very vividly. He said, "Before I learned to live
I almost died at the age of less than a year.
Prophet Abraham is common to mythology of the Jewish, Christian
and Muslim religions. It is said that God wanted to test the faith
and devotion of Abraham, so He commanded him to sacrifice what was
dearest to him. What was dearest to Abraham was his infant son,
Ismail or Issac-to be prepared to sacrifice him to prove his devotion
and love to God more than his son. But God was merciful and at the
last moment he replaced the child with a little lamb who was slaughtered.
It is to commemorate the sacrifice of Abraham that lambs, goats,
sheep and cows are sacrificed every year on the day of Baqr-Eid
throughout the Muslim world. I have great sympathy for little Ismail
Issac because I know how he must have felt for all that happened
to him also happened to me when I was less than a year old. My father
was playing Abraham and I was the sacrificial lamb. This is how
it happened. Some of the enlightened men like my father and the
son of Khwaja Ghulam-Abbas, were against ostentatious and expensive
ceremonies that accompanied all marriages in India, particularly
in our family. For a few days’ ostentatious display entire
properties would be wiped off to meet the demands of the dowry that
the bride would take to her husbands’ home. Than there would
be illumination for the marriage procession, a richly decorated
horse for the bridegroom, a special palanquin for the bride, a bevy
of songstresses to sing marriage songs and all kinds of dances to
promise entertainment to the guests.
Only the very affluent could afford all these ostentatious expenses.
But while competing with the rich, an average middle class family
would be financially ruined on a daughter’s wedding. The social
workers and among them my grandfather went out of their way to denounce
this unislamic ceremony of serving the prophet had enjoined upon
his followers to observe simplicity and austerity in all ceremonials
connected with the marriage and not to incur debts to solemnises
a wedding which was indeed a solemn social contract between a man
and a woman. But no one had succeeded in stemming the tide of extravagance.
Soon it was time for the marriage of his orphaned niece (my uncle
had died very young). My father tried his best to follow the prophet’s,
principles but no one was willing to understand.
Till my father took a very bold step. He took me, who was basically
a few months old and still sucking my thumb. He quietly picked me
up from the cradle and walked out of the house leaving a letter
behind. People asked him why he was taking the child and he either
said " for some work" or walked on in silence. He took
me to one of our old houses which lay vacant most of the time. He
took me in and put me to sleep. In the letter he had written that
he was taking the child " somewhere" not saying any thing
about the old house and then starve the infant (me) to death unless
he was assured that the women would give up their ostentation and
agree to a simple marriage. "I have no desire to participate
in the marriage festivities. I have no desire even to live, if women
of my own community are going to defy me, my principles and my God.
And I have no desire to let my son live in such a rotten and unprincipled
atmosphere,” he wrote. My mother must have looked for me and
her husband from time to time but was more interested in the joy
and jubilation of the festivities of the marriage. She was not aware
of the hunger strike her husband and son had gone on in protest.
It was only in the morning that my mother and all the relatives
and guests realised our missing all night. They looked for us all
over till my mother thought about the old house where a weeping
father watched his starving son suffer the pangs of hunger. They
reached the old house. My mother called out to my father but he
refused to open the door till she made sure on the Holy Koran that
there would be no extravagance at the wedding and that the prophet’s
command would be followed. My mother promised, pledged, swore and
my father slowly opened the door.
That was how a son contributed to social reform even as an infant.
That, I realised after the story of my being almost sacrificed for
a cause was made known to me years later. It was also the beginning
of Khwaja Ahmad Abbas who was destined to be one of the most modern
social reformers, a man against everything that was wrong in every
field of society.
Ali Peter John
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