Azam Ali, an Ahmadi Moslem
Chapter 17 – QUESTIONING
Communication
Abba Ji used questioning to extract information, make judgments, teach children, spread knowledge and serve community. He questioned lawyers, litigants and even laymen in his Court.
He often inspected the crime scene to confirm what a witness had deposed before him. He controlled the court and got all relevant information that assisted him in doing justice. He saw this technique very useful for his judicial work and in every other thing in life he liked to do.
In 1967 I returned from England. Father became a good pal with my 2 older sons, Rashid and Zahid, who then were just short of 2 and 1 years old. He played with them, talked to them at their level and used his questioning technique to teach them valuable knowledge while playing.
For the next few years they lived, loved and lolled the company of their grandfather just as much as he loved playing with them. Father set goals, fixed prizes and rewarded them. He questioned them about their daily progress. They played and learnt in play.
In play he taught them short prayers from the Holy Qor-aan like Raubbay zidnee ilmaa, Bismilla maujree-haa wa moor-saa-haa, and so on. These prayers were easy to memorize. There were occasions to use them every day. He continually questioned them. Repetitions rewarded.
Father taught all his other grandchildren the same way. The effect of plays and prayers at one time was summarized by my sister’s son Dr Zarar Bajwa, then in his late forties: “It really is very difficult to forget all those prayers that Nana Abu had taught.” His questioning, developing communication skills and teaching that way in play proved an excellent tool for kids to learn.
Teaching
He played with toddlers. He prayed with them and grown-up family members. He always opened communicating by first asking questions. The grown-ups started discussions. Kids like sponges absorbed all he said. The questioning technique worked very well for everyone.
Abba Ji enjoyed playing with my sons when he could find time away from his law office. There was one play they all enjoyed very much. One by one he gave them joy rides. He put them on his back, stood on a coffee table, promised them an airflight, and jumped down to the floor.
Hilarious laughs rang around. He started when they were 2 and 1 and continued till they reached 5 and 4. He was around 70 at time. Jumping down from a coffee table with a heavy child on the back could hurt him. Father was aware of the risk but took it in love.
He knew that neither his two grandsons were going to remain toddlers for too long, nor was he going to remain strong enough to continue that fun. He used those moments to imbue sound knowledge in the form of brief titbits. He took risks so his progeny may learn continually.
My wife often intervened to stop those jumps as boys got bigger and heavier every day. The inevitable finally happened one day. Father hurt his back in one of those jumps. That was a bye bye to the play for those two, as well as for his other grandchildren who came after that.
Bonding
Then on the bonding between my father and my two sons changed into a friendship that included long conversations, discussions and storytelling. Father asked them to talk about their experiences. They enjoyed sharing what they saw in attending their school or visiting our village.
The relationship between Father and these two boys grew very strong and solid. In 1975 Father returned from the USA after eye-surgery. He told other family members concerned about his travel that theses 9- and 8-years old grandsons were his best eyes to travel with.
Father got hold of them both in England. He traveled with them, first London to Karachi and then Karachi to Lahore in Pakistan. In later years he happily and proudly chuckled over the company and assistance they had provided him during the journey.
The relationship between them kept growing strong. Each day it added to his grandson’s knowledge, strengthened self-confidence to express themselves confidently, candidly and clearly, and developed communications skills to state fully as they felt. Thank God He gave my Father the opportunity to reach out to his grandsons, mold them the best way, and provide them some of the guidance with which he had raised his own children.
Understanding
Their highly productive mutual understanding was misunderstood by others. At times the frank talk between Father and his grandsons appeared tantamount to rudeness in the eyes of us grownups. We tried to intervene but he knew how to be just. We took it as taking my boys’ side.
One day Father accompanied our chauffeur to pick them up after school. On way back, Zahid was supposed to sit in the rear seat area; instead, he stood. That was long before car seats were invented and legislatively enforced. He stood behind the front passenger seat.
Zahid started tapping on his grandfather’s head and commented about his lack of hair. In joke Father said he would tell his mother that he tapped on his bald head. Zahid ignoring threat, continued tapping and asking, “Abba Ji, aap ki bibi kidhar hai = Where is your wife?
Knowing Father I can reasonably say that he must have tried explaining the phenomenon of death (see Phrase Kool-lo nauf-sin zaa-aiy-qa-to ol-mao-tay M eaning “All persons taste death”) to both Rashid and Zahid on the back seat area.
Back at home the chauffer narrated the incident to my wife. She took it was rude of Zahid to behave that way with his grandfather. She scolded Zahid for that. I don’t know how Father learnt of my wife’s reaction, but I know how he responded to her reprimanding Zahid.
His grandson’s remark had reflected only light humor. It didn’t justify reprimanding him. And in any case it was private communication between grandson and his grandfather that did not deserve publication – by our chauffer to my wife and thus to the rest of our family.
Translation
In 1976 we settled in the USA. My children soon got acclimatized to American English – accent, style, usage, the whole works. American English is substantially different from British English that is significantly different from Pakistani English as spoken by Pakistanis in Pakistan.
Father visited us in the USA in 1979. It was just 3½ years since he last saw my children. Trying to start from where they had left with a totally clear understanding of each other as to who said what, both sides now experienced frustration and strained to comprehend each other.
Father noticed a tremendous difference in the way his grandchildren talked from just a short time earlier. He spoke his customary English which the kids did not understand and they spoke the American English that he did not grasp fast.
Father being home all day looked forward to his grandchildren returning from school and reverting to their former style of conversation and discussion. But kids are kids, and at that time they as 13 to 5 years old had to do homework, sports and a lot of other things.
Father found conversation with them even at the dinner table was frustratingly limited. He missed their former communications with each other. My wife and I tried our best.
Gaps in the communications developed due to our relocation initially upset Father. But he got over it quickly. He applied his unfailing methodology of immediately reviewing a situation, objectively analyzing facts, judicially evaluating explanations, visibly restraining inner emotions, openly demonstrating moderation, and totally understanding what confronted us. And he won.
God bless Father who had trained us well. 1. Communicate with addressee. 2. Verify through independent means. 3. Ascertain what was said was also clearly understood. That helped in this case. The gap in initial communications was soon filled. Normal conversations followed.
Congregational Prayers
Abba ji visited us in the USA for 5½ weeks in 1979. As a routine established in Pakistan, he used to call everybody at home to join him in praying congregationally. My older 3 children lost no time or opportunity to join in the prayers and listen to Father’s talks after the prayers.
My youngest son Shahid, 4, didn’t fully comprehend the commotion in the house at all prayer times. Father and he talked and tried to understand each other but could not. The tussle in a few days peaked and the grandson said: Abba Ji! Go home. Father replied, “This is my home.”
The effect of that 5½ weeks stay continued. One day when Shahid was 7, he came to his mother. “Mom you can punish me today.” “Why?” my wife asked. “Because I missed a prayer and a child when 7-years-old deserves punishment if he misses offering timely prayer.” The grandson had obviously internalized that part of the prayers that Father had taught my family.
Technique
And there were hilarious family jokes that questioning innocently made lasting. I can’t ever forget one summarized in Punjabi as Tuttay tuttay chowl meri dhunni witch paa-aiy sun. I didn’t see it happening. I was away at college but I heard of it. And I’ve heard it 100’s of times.
Father’s younger brother, then 33, had left British army when WWII ended and had no job. He came to visit us in Lyallpur where Father was posted. One summer afternoon he laid on his back on a cot. His vest was rolled up. His big round stomach and deep belly button showed.
My brother Majid, then 10, sat beside uncle on the same cot and was talking. A servant brought hard grains of rice just roasted in a bhautti — the Punjabi equivalent of oven. The grains were hot, very hot just fresh out of oven, ready to be eaten by crushing under teeth as a snack
Majid poured a few grains in uncle’s invitingly deep bellybutton. Hot hard grains burnt the inside of bellybutton. Uncle put his fingers inside his belly button to get the grains out but that drove the grains deeper. Finally, he figured out, rolled over tummy, and threw the grains out.
Majid noticed uncle’s scream. He ran out of the inner courtyard. He was 30/40 feet ahead as uncle ran after to catch and punish him. Majid sprinted the last hundred yards and reached the street a little distance ahead of uncle. That’s when Majid saw Father being driven to the house.
Father saw his son running. He told his chauffer to stop the car and taken Majid in. Then he saw his younger brother dressed in vest and dhoti and asked what was happening. Response by uncle was that Majid had put Tuttay tuttay chowl meri dhunni witch paa-aiy sun.
How could a 10-year-old put hot rice grains in an adult’s belly button, normally hidden under clothes. The complaint made no sense to an inquisitive person like Father. His questioning finally got full info. Father didn’t want to encourage Majid to do more of such antics.
Since uncle felt he was ridiculed before many family members, the punishment should also be before them. Thus, father held like a court at house with all family members present. Father’s question to my uncle: What is your complaint? Uncle (pointing to Majid): He put Tuttay tuttay chowl meri dhunni witch paa-aiy. Father’s question to Majid. Is that allegation true? Majid’s answer. Yes. And I apologize. Father’s question to both. Are you both ready for the verdict? And Majid apologized
Majid kept sharing details of the incident in every family gathering. I’ve seen young and old roll over laughing on hearing details. But for Father’s questioning to resolve the complaint where nephew apologized for his mischief, we probably would have never had this as a joke.
Project
I can’t recollect the first time Father learnt of my bent of mind to translate into English some works which already had their content with a proven popularity. He bequeathed to me his collection of a full set of writings by the Promised Messiah, a.s. I intended to translate them.
In early 1970’s in Pakistan I had answered Father’s question about my translations. I told him that I had fully translated Zinda Nabi aur Zinda Muzhub and another book, and taken them to Rabwah to Khaleefatool Massih III, r.a., who on a later visit said he never received them.
Father’s comment was that I had done my job. What the son or Private Sec’s office of the Khaleefatol Massih III, r.a., did was in God’s hands. I didn’t hear or ask about it but a carbon copy (FAX in those days was unknown) of my original work I saw in my papers a few days ago.
Oddly enough, some fifteen years later Dr Aziz Ahmed in St Louis, USA, called and quoted to me a sentence from a book in English. He asked me to translate it into Urdu. I asked him to read the sentences before and after the one he wanted me to help. I was dumbfounded.
The sentences he read were my English, translations of the original Urdu writing by the Promised Messiah, a.s. I told Dr Aziz of the Urdu original, and that he did not have to translate my English translation back into Urdu which already was readily available.
Obviously a well-known (now dead) person with access to Private Sec’s had published my work under his name without any acknowledgment that I had originally done it.
In early 1990’s in Philadelphia a dear friend Saadat Abdullah in discussing the translation of a verse of the Holy Qor-aan remarked that the translating words conveyed no sense at all. I understood the situation and stated the meanings in simple words and the matter became clear.
Another friend Rasheed Bhatti heard of the above incident. He suggested I write to the Head of Community to point out the problem. He too was already aware of the difficulty of, difference in and departure from the original meanings and concepts of the Holy Qor-aan. That started what evolved into TrueTechingsOfIsam.com/All you ever wanted to know of Islam.
