Nighat Leghari
Holding a sheet of a cardboard against the oil lamp to shield the light of the other members of the family from the light of the lamp, an underweight slim boy with powerful shining eyes, which can be termed as “twin lamps of the truth” is sitting against the study table in the small village of Paneli in India. He feels a different object in his mind, something bigger, something more ambitious and a world of his own vision. He wants to occupy the place, which was unique. His mind is most active. He feels even when he was a boy that he has got nothing in common with common man. His every action marked him out from other boys. He started his education and in the tender age of sixteen he left for England. He spent more and more time in the British museum reading and studying the lives of great men. He passed his Bar-at-Law with distinction and he was the youngest Indian student ever to be called to the Bar. Now he had been grown up to a tall boy with heavy lips and powerful eyes.
He came to Bombay and enrolled himself as a barrister in high court. Everyday he went round the courts in search of cash but in the evening he would return to his room without earning any money. But neither he was disappointed nor he gave up his struggle. He had full confidence of his determination and firmness. He always chose difficult path of honour. This puny person knew his inner strength and word impossible was alien for him. Soon this graceful, charming and well dressed barrister was noticed by the high society. Within no time he occupied a very strong position at the Bombay Bar. He was considered an authority on question about law. He earned a rapid reputation. When as a lawyer he would appear in the courts, to the utter surprise of all, he remembered his full case by heart but his every word was to be weighed before it was uttered. His legal wisdom, courage and devotion made him prosperous very soon. He was a trusted lawyer for Muslim and Hindu clients alike. Throughout his career as barrister he remained incredibly honest.
He worked for fourteen hours. He was usually taken as a fashionable Europeanised person who hardly knew about the religion but those who were close to him describe him as a practical religious man. On one occasion he himself said that Muhammad (PBUH) was a Messenger of God and I am the Messenger of Muhammad (PBUH) and want to give a separate state to the Muslims to practise Muhammadism liberally. He worked miracles with his ailing figure. He was very strict in discipline and orderliness. Quaid’s relation with his staff was very friendly. He was, no doubt, an exacting master but the men who worked with him were devoted to him, some of them were tantalised with his quiet nature but they never disobeyed him. He was a cold and reserve person but most favourable. Hindus used all their wealth and brains against Jinnah and all British officialdom was against him, even most of his close colleagues were unsupportive of him. His disease was making him shockingly weak but no sooner he felt a bit better he would run to his working desk. He was seriously ill but he knew that his bad health will put a home to his supreme cause, he constantly concealed his disease with the result his disease gradually crumbled all his inner system. He worked round-the-clock but no one saw him dozing or yawning on the working desk, he always seemed attentive and alert even on the ailing bed. He led a saintly life and never liked hypocrisy, if he didn’t want to do one thing he never did it for any reason such as ostentation or to win over the people. He proved himself an iron man, and underwent a long difficult path filled with thorns with ailing feet but never tottering, never shaking and with no signs of exhaustion.
It is August 7th, 1947, a Ciceroy’s Silver Dakota is standing on the Delhi airport, a slim, saintly, exhausted but firm figure, attired in a stainless white sherwani, walks towards the aircraft with his little court. Flight lieutenant Rabbani carries a cane basket full of documents, a servant carries a bundle of newspapers, as he moves towards the aircraft, his face is pale but glowing with emotions. He pauses for a moment, looks back towards the city in which he waged a crusade and won Pakistan. He waves his pale bony hand towards people, spell bound in his respect and regard. He said in a very low voice, I suppose this is the last time I will be looking at Delhi. As the aircraft taxies out he whispers and that’s the end of that, I never expected Pakistan in my life.
As I write this article I am reminded as to what the Quaid-e-Azam envisioned this country as the Father of the Nation. While assuming the office of Governor General he said, “That Pakistan which I envision will have democratic system based on consciousness and righteousness of its rulers. It is my belief that our salvation lies in adopting the true democratic setup, our decisions in the affairs of the state shall have guided by the discussions and consultations. The activities of the rulers must be monitored to his men, it will bring good effect to the conditions of the people. He said, “Pakistan will have no discriminatory status for any individual or group, no one will enjoy any special privileges, all citizens shall be equal rights, I will never like any exploitation of poor, bureaucrats shall take themselves as the servants of the people. In the history of Pakistan I observe that almost all the rulers of Pakistan brought a horrible shatter to the dreams of the Quaid-e-Azam instead.
—The writer is a senior journalist, currently based in Denmark.
