Quasim Master Sahab was my first private tutor. He has been an important figure in the formative years for me and my sister.
Though I may have been only about 8 or 9 years at that time, I clearly remember how he came into our lives. My parents were on the lookout for a Hafiz, someone who can teach Quran Shareef to me and my sister Saba (her pet name is Mobi). In this regard my father asked Qasim Mamu (who used to drive my grandfather's Hillman car), to find one. I remember this conversation very clearly, my father was taking his bath in the bathroom and Qasim Mamu shouted from outside 'I have just the man you are looking for, he can not only teach Quran but also all the other subjects' .......... It was certainly hard to find such a tutor, and my father consented immediately.
Quasim Master Sahab lived in Choori Tola Mohalla which was across the talaab (pond) from our house. He insisted that his name be spelt 'Quasim' and not the more prevalent 'Qasim'. Perhaps he thought this distinguished him from the many people named 'Qasim' in the mohalla who were rather illiterate. Master Sahab had migrated to this area from his native place Siwan.
Though I may have been only about 8 or 9 years at that time, I clearly remember how he came into our lives. My parents were on the lookout for a Hafiz, someone who can teach Quran Shareef to me and my sister Saba (her pet name is Mobi). In this regard my father asked Qasim Mamu (who used to drive my grandfather's Hillman car), to find one. I remember this conversation very clearly, my father was taking his bath in the bathroom and Qasim Mamu shouted from outside 'I have just the man you are looking for, he can not only teach Quran but also all the other subjects' .......... It was certainly hard to find such a tutor, and my father consented immediately.
Quasim Master Sahab lived in Choori Tola Mohalla which was across the talaab (pond) from our house. He insisted that his name be spelt 'Quasim' and not the more prevalent 'Qasim'. Perhaps he thought this distinguished him from the many people named 'Qasim' in the mohalla who were rather illiterate. Master Sahab had migrated to this area from his native place Siwan.
He certainly was a man of many talents. Apart from Quran he taught us Urdu, English, Hindi, Maths, Science as well. He would come to our house every evening. Me and my sister were rather bemused by his official manner and his insistence on speaking correct Urdu. He would call my sister 'Mouvi' though we called her Mobi. Perhaps to teach us good manners he gave us an incentive, whichever of us will 'salaam' him first will be let off early......My sister decided on making the most of it........at the time of his arrival she will go all the way to the edge of the 'talaab' and the moment Master Sahab will appear on the other side of the talaab , she will shout 'Salam walaikum, Master Sahab' !! Hence she will be let off earlier than me!!
Master Sahab will say with a smile 'Mouvi Bari shareer hain' ..... 'shareer' meaning naughty. We learnt such words only from him. My sister had many other tricks up her sleeve to escape the teaching sessions.....she will feign a stomach ache and go to the 'high command' .....that is my grand father.....
Immediately Papa (we called our grandfather 'Papa) will come to Master Sahab pleading her case 'Bechari ki tabiyat kharab hai, aaj usko chor dijiye'. Master Sahab could not overrule Papa........but will say under his breath 'Mouvi bari shareer hain Bhai'...........
Around that time, there was a very popular serial on Doordarshan called 'Nukkad'. We were extremely bemused to find that one of the main characters 'Ghansu Bhikari' was an exact replica of Master Sahab !! Mobi found this information just too difficult to keep to herself and told Master Sahab 'Aap bilkul Ghansu Bhikari ki tarah lagte hain!!'.......
Poor Master Sahab had to laugh it off.
Master Sahab's handwriting was calligraphic. I remember when my father wrote his first Urdu book 'Sharaar-e-Justaju', he requested Master Sahab to copy the manuscript to be given for printing. And what a wonderful job he did.
Master Sahab's day job was as a teacher in the local school. He did many tuitions to support his ever growing family.
In the summer vacations when all my cousins will come over to our place, all of a sudden Master Sahab would be teaching 10-12 kids together. That was quite a sight.
Master Sahab also served as an investigative journalist for my Papa. He will give Papa all the news of the local area which included the whereabouts and the movements of the local 'goondas' (hooligans). In a hushed voice he would tell Papa 'Aajkal Langda (name of a local goonda) jail se bhaga hua hai'.......we would listen to these conversations very attentively. He will also discuss the local politics with Papa including the tussle between the 'awami' (local) and the outsiders settled there.
On one occasion Papa showed him the Calculator which my Phuphajaan had sent for Papa from America. Master Sahab almost fell from his chair when he saw that this thing can do calculations on the press of a button.....he hadn't seen anything like that before. He declared, 'MashaAllah science ne kya taraqqi ki hai'.......
On one occasion when the Imam of the mosque in Choori Tola was unwell, Master Sahab took over the responsibility of leading the prayers in the Mosque......another of his many talents.......
He taught me till Class 8 after which I moved to another school and and would study on my own. By that time he had completed my primary task , completing the Quran.
He later on taught my cousins Munisa and Mushira who also lived in Kanke, Ranchi at that time. Mushira turned out to be even more 'shareer' than Mobi.......
My father had helped him to complete his B.A. and M.A. Degrees in Urdu.
All his students went on do quite well in their careers and life and for this credit has to be given to Master Sahab. He also taught the children of one of our tenants Rajinder Chacha. His son Ron went on to compete in IIT (Indian Institute of Technology), the most prestigious engineering school in India.
Master Sahab built a small house adjacent to the boundary wall of our house in Kanke. He still lives there with his family. I last met him about 4-5 years back.
He is a very humble and a decent man, perhaps a bit too 'shareef' for his times. He did help many of us move forward in life and his students are now spread across the world but he himself couldn't move very far in life. The responsibilities of his large family didn't allow him to do many things he could have done.
I pray for a long and healthy life for him. Insha Allah when I go to India next, I will meet him.
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