Shia _ Sunni, a love story

Baant Ke Apna Chehra, Maatha, Aankhen Jaane Kahaan Gayi?

Phate Puraane Ek Album Mein Ladki Jaisi Maa ....

(Nida)

Nov 1954. She was 19. They had just seen a movie at Super Talkies, Grant Road.. This picture was taken against her wishes. She was a Shia and father was a Sunni. May be she was not sure about how wud this 1400 years old divide wud play in her life.

In those days Shia - Sunni debate was as nasty as it is today. Of course it was minus the suicide bombers. Rest.. ..all mutual hatred, all biases and prejudices were the same.

She hid this picture from everyone. Even lied that it is someone else's. When I found out its hers, I went to town showing this picture and admiring her guts to be a rebel, for following heart. For doing the right thing.

They would marry in 1955.

Her next picture would be taken after a GAP of 25 years, by me.

Since then she remains the most photographed woman of my life.

Always will...

#Maa, #ZubedaSayed, #rebel

Qafan Farosh

Qafan Farosh...

81 saal ki Aurat ko Dafnaa kar

Sab Aabadi Ki Taraf Chale

To Har Shaks 

Us Budhiya Ke Bete ko

Ye Keh Kar Tasalli Dene Lagaa ke

` Kaafi Umr Thi, Mukti Mil Gayi`

`Log Is Beemari Main Ediyan Ragad Ke Marte Hain. Woh Asaani Se Gayin`.

` Budhi Haddiyon Ne Gosht Tak Chodd Diya Tha. Accha Hi Hua`

`Tumhari Apni Family Nahi Hai Na, Warna Takleef Kam Hoti`

Adhed Umr ka Beta

Muskura Kar, Khunda Peshaani se

Logon Ka Pursaa Qabool Kar Raha Tha

Usi Raat

Ek Nayi Geeli Qabr Pe

Ek Chota Baccha Bilak Bilak Kar Ro Raha Tha

`Aye Maa, Tu mujhe kiyoon chodd gayi Maa?`

`Qafan Faroshon Ki Is Basti Main,

sirf Tu Hi Mere Liye Zinda Thi Maa`

` Ab Dekh Main Kitna Tanhaa Hoon Maa`

Aur Kareeb ke Railway Station Pe Der Se Khadi

Local Train ke Pahiyye phir Chal Pade`

Nov 26, 2017

Maa

On 22nd November, they buried my heart in this grave.
Since then I am a dead man walking, with no heart, heart beat. 
Nothing.

And when the most beautiful n brave woman in the World struggles against old age, and when u realize the limits of medical sciences u feel helpless.

This is when u wanna unlearn all the scriptures of the World, the rules of society and all that good for nothing nonsense drilled in ur brain.

You wanna question whoever claims to be the creator and more, as u don't have the luxury to go on searching for the answers like a Buddha!

#Zubieda Sayed, #Mumbai, #Maa

Khul Jaa Sim Sim...

When I got there, the tea shop was already closed for the night. The staff was standing outside unwinding - chatting.

" Chai khareedni hai"
" Kal Subah 9 baje aayen....abhi to dukaan band ho gayi"

The manager wearing a skull cap and kurta pajama spoke in a matter of fact tone.

"Kal subah hi nahi hogi bhai"
"Kiya matlab?"
"Aap ki chai pee ke meri subah hoti hai......chai nahi hai ghar pe.....suabh kaise hogi?"

The manager, giving keys of the shop to one of his employees shouted
" Aye Dukaan khol"

I smiled. I got what I wanted, and was not surprised. Have done these kinds of acts a million times by now.

In one of the stories of " The Arabian Nights", the prince's path was blocked by a boulder on the mouth of a cave. He recites a mantra " Khul Jaa Sim Sim " and the boulder gives him room to go in and rescue the princess.

Vidyawaan of the world tell us it was not the mantra that opened the mouth of the cave, bu the " Lehjaa" ( the way to speak) that did it.

I could not agree more...

I can open any door, anywhere, any time in ANY country - even in my sleep with my "timing" and "Lehjaa". This magic comes only when one has a transparent heart, a sense of humor and who cares attitude to the outcome.

Despite this a few doors just wouldnt open....

Thats the irony my frnd....thats the fascinating irony!!

Autumn, 1992, Atlanta

I have booked my flight to India. I am going home. I am happy - yet apprehensive.

I feel like a warrior who faced insurmountable challenges, but remained steadfast in his determination to achieve his goal. A warrior who did not indulge in any act that he can’t share with his family n frnds. A warrior who sacrificed budding romances because he knew he will eventually return and did not want to get tied down to a country for wrong reasons. I have seen many in the US that came for education, but lost the sight of that goal and drifted in wine and women never to return….

I am keeping date with my destiny. India is my Karma Bhoomi as I had decided long time back. It’s time to walk the talk.

The night before my departure Dona invites me for the last super at the same restaurant we have been frequenting all these years. She tells me “ Whenever you return Shahid, it will be the same here”. (And she will keep her words, as I will see her again in 1999 and will realize nothing …not even the smell of her house has changed”. She is an angel….

After the dinner, I wanted to say good-bye to my frnd Ted Schelling. Dona drives me to his home. It is pre-mobile days, so I call Ted from pay phone at the lobby of the restaurant and take directions to his place. I write that address on a piece of paper I find in the restaurant lobby. We meet him and his family. Dona drops me back late at night. SK in the meantime has done all my packing on my behalf. Frndship it is…

Years later Dona gives me that piece of paper in which I had written the directions to Ted’s home. Apparently, I might have dropped that worthless piece of paper in Dona’s car after reaching Ted’s home. Dona must have found it while cleaning her car the next weekend. It was junk, yet she did not junk it. (The only other people who would not throw anything with my handwriting are my mom and my last in-house girl frnd). Blessings they are...or were...oh wait...

I am at the airport. All teared up. I have never worked in India and don’t know what awaits me in work scenario. I have some relations that needed to be entangled from the web of miscommunication… life is not going to be easy …not this fast.

Good byes are always tough for me. In my chilhood Maa had left me with my relatives after admitting me in class 1st at Chor Bazar Muncipal Urdu School. I had experienced the cutting away of my heart in two pieces at the age of five…. So its psychologicaly painful for me to say good-bye. (Mom still cries when I mention that morning when she left me to fend for myself…. off course I am glad she did. Else I wud not have gotten education in that badlands of U.P.)

When Steve says “ This is it man!”… I cry like a kid. I did not realize till then my little world has already taken roots in the soil of America. I had beautiful caring frnds that took care of me like a family. My roots had grown in that soil unknowingly…and am uprooting it. When I was falling in love, actually I was not just falling in love with A or FDR but the system…the culture…the air.

But, my world awaits me in India. There is no turning back now.

It’s a chilly autumn morning as my flights takes off from Hartsfield International airport. I look down from the window at the world I am leaving behind. I hear:

“ India is a dumpster…don’t go there”

“I love you. How do want me to meet you knowing that in a few months you will go back and I will never ever see you again?”

“I never thought I would fall in love with someone from overseas…. I love you with all my heart Shahid”

“You took a big leap from a municipal school to Georgia Tech, why undo it all? Don’t go back.”

"Ye Aasmano main kiya talash karta hai? Chal Cheetah 3 main tujhe Taare dikhataa hoon!!"

“This is home Shahid, this is home…there is no India for me now!”

Autumn, Mumbai, India

I reach Mumbai at 7pm.

And India refuses to recognize me immediately.

It’s a shocker I was not prepared for. Never thought about it. Have I changed? What part of me has been changed by America? I never picked up anything that did not meet my sensibility criteria then how come I am not recognizable now? I had frnds who never encouraged me to be anything but myself...I did not even pick up the damn accent?

I am confused. I am angry!

A story of a Hen and her chicks comes to mind.

A hen had 9 chicks. She used to hang out with them. Take care of them. Feed them. Protect them. One day the 9th chick fell into a drain full of colors. When he came out he went back to join the rest of his brothers. But they all refused to recognize him. They were seeing him in different color, while he was not aware of any colors on him.

The hen throws him out of the family. You are not one of us ..

Its been a while I read that story. I don’t remember how the story ended for that chick.

Just like I don’t know how this one is going to end!

Shahshi Kapoor

The second most romantic man of Indian cinema, Shashi Kapoor gets the most prestigious "Dada Saheb Phalke" award. I grew up watching his films and later became his fan when I discovered more about him.

He, along with his wife Jennifer built the "Prithvi Theatre" in Mumbai. It is said that he spent most of his life's savings on building it. Today, Prithvi is an Iconic institution where one can see quality performances for a reasonable price.

When we grow old, all we look for is a ONE WAY ticket to heaven and well being of our children. To achieve that we spent money on religious causes and its paraphernalia. 

This man, too had the option to do the same...but he chose to spend his money on building a World Class Theater, where drama groups can be charged peanuts for performing and audiences very little to watch those performances. 

Every seat at Prithvi comes for the same price. There is no priority or preferential seating - its first come fist to grab a seat arrangement. All are equal. So, you could find the biggest names of Bollywood seating behind you and behaving like a normal humans. That's the way it was supposed to be...

Every time I see a play at Prithvi, I smile thinking of this fine actor and a super human being!

Now, since we are at it, think of the greatest and biggest "Heroes" of Indian film industry. Can you name anything that they have done to add color to your life? You MADE them "Super Star", "Tragedy King", and the "Angry Young Man" etc, but all they have done or are doing is to make money, secure a place in heaven by religious means and settle their children....

Those are not the Heroes.....this man Shahshi Kapoor is....

Also, He did not find anyone worth marrying, or having an affair after the death of his girl friend Jennifer Kendall speaks who he really is....but that story is for some other day!

PS: So skip a religious function and take your kids to Prithvi to see a play. Inspire your children by sharing the above facts, coz India needs more contributors to its future than mere heaven seekers!!

Hamara Shahr...

Jab shahr ki be-Chainyan, bad-Gumaniyan
kisi Khaarish zada kutton ki trah
Mujhe  dauda kar jab
Kisi station ke platform tak khaded aati hain
Tab Main khud ko Tanhaa bahut hi pata hoon
Chun kar kirchiyan apne khwabon ki
Larazta hoon, saham saham jataa hoon
Trains aati hain, Guzar jaaati hain
Sochta hoon,

Kahan jaoon, pahunchon kidhar ko main?
Koi khidki , Na darwaza koi intezar main hai
Na koi Har aahat Pe Meri  kaan dhare

TV ke saamne hai, magar dekhtaa nahi

Aur  na hi koi mere poorani Tasveeren

Dekh raha hai, Mujhe soch raha hai


Ye shahr HAMARA nahi jahan  main rehtaa hoon
Isi liye to yu Tanhiayyan main Sehtaa hoon.

(Bad-Gumaniyan = Misunderstands)

(C) Shahid Parvez Sayed

Thank You!

Maharashtra College

Ramesh Kumar, Butiya Manoj Ramesh, Siddiki Rubina, Mansori Heena, sheikh Farina, Ansari Nida, Ansari Taiyaba, Mahroz M. Mohsin, Gulshan M. Qauyyom, Zakiya Bano M. Zakariya, Khan Naziya Parveen M. Sharif, Sana Anwar Khan, Noor Afsha, Ansari Razia, Sarvat Qureshi, Ansari Lubna, Shaikh Nazreen, Momin Firdaus, Ansari Nazish Naaz, Shaikh Tabassum Mhod Hanif, sheikh Arshiya G. Mohammad, Shaikh F shafi, ansari Yasmeen samiullah, Butiya Manjoj Ramesh, A Aqub, sheikh M Tahir, Ansari Heena Kausar Mushtaq, sayed azhar ali Qamar Ali, Mohammad Ahmad Siddieque, Imran Tamboli, Zafar Sayed, , Fakhri Khusnod, Zakariya A. Ukai, Abdul Hameed, Mohd Nafees, shamsuddin, Masood Alam siddiki, Ansari Nazreen, Shaikh Tassudduk, Khan Asma, Sheikh Saeeda,Khan Zainab, Kazi Rumana, Ansari Shama, Ansari samina, Ansari Saniya, Ansari shaista, Sahaikh Zakerun, Fehmida Moinuddin, Sayed Tabassum, Qureshi Saima, Khan Mehvish, Khan shaheen, Khan Mehjabeen, Ansari Sidra, Ansari Umaira, Ansari Naziya, Ansari sadiya, Ansari Afreen, Saifi Ali Varsh, Khan Ashraf.

SNDT - Ghatkopar

Rukhsar Khan, Vaishali Cureaw, Hetal Zadbuke, Amulya Raskar, Prachi Pawar, Praneli Vd Patahk, Simi John, Madumita Biswas, Mohini Lokhande, Monica Kene, Chetna Marvane, sneha Sharma, Kalpana Muddilyar, Sumathi Mooopnar, Preeti Sakpal, Monika Sharma, Sameen Mushtaq,, Jyoti sikarwar, Kusum Gupta, Hafsa Farooqui.

And...

Rashmi Bansal, Piyul Mukherjee, Pia Verbic, Prof M.Z Shahid, Prof Siraj Chowgle, Prof Majid Ansari, Prof Ilyas Shauqui, Principal Shakeel Urzak, Prof Waheed.

Faizan Sayed, Shagufta Farouqui, Z. Sayed, P.N. Sayed, Altaf Paloba, Nasir Surti, Late Siddik Divecha....

For days like these....

This Indian vacation is turning out to be the most productive and memorable one for me and for a few more. For me because with the help of friends I could put into place a process, that,  executed well could help in creating the next generation of  committed citizens and perhaps, business leaders. For a few more because their excitement tells me that they are having a ball on this journey that began this morning at Maharashtra College, Mumbai.

I had invited a bunch of student leaders from Maharashtra college to initiate a dialogue on entrepreneurship in the Muslim community.  A sweet little relative from SNDT, brought her entire class to the forum and it became an SNDT v/s Maharashtra College competition. I would have been happy with  a group of 30/40 students. Instead,  I ended up  with twice  that size.

My young guests were in for a surprise when they were divided into 8 groups (the original plan was to have only 5 ) and offered RS 1000 each. It was my heartfelt request that with the help of a few tips and insights, they had the freedom to do whatever they chose to do with the money. All I wanted in return was for them to engage in some creative brainstorming to generate ideas, utilize their talents in making the money grow.  It was impressed on them that it was not important  if they made 50 paisa or 200 rupees,  or even if they lost their allotted amount,  as long as they made a sincere and honest effort in going through the process.

Their enthusiasm and energy took over the classroom and spread like magic. Some of them had doubts - could  this offer be real, others accepted it  immediately as  a challenge,   eager to prove themselves. It was a great sight to see a gamut of emotions run through the faces. I loved every minute of it.

What was amazing about the session is that they expressed  their dreams and aspirations,  their fears and apprehensions. The raw plans, their own fearless predictions of all that they could do, to me, was a sign that these were the stars of the future of our nation, as we move ahead in life with 8% GDP growth all around us. 

My guests have since gone back to pursue this challenge, and intend to return triumphant next week. Our prayers are that they all succeed - not just in making some money. But in learning about themselves, about team work, their sense of self-worth, their so far un-capitalized talents, and about turning unrealized needs into awesome business opportunities. 

I look forward to next week. To see what this new generation is made up of and what plans /proposals they will bring forward.  

For me, the biggest challenge is to find a way to sustain this momentum, to keep it going and involve more potential leaders. 

 It was a  day straight from Abraham Maslow's book.  I intend to have many more days like today. 

God willing....