Azhar Kidvai (1)

I called my father Abi.

It means 'My Father' in Arabic and even in Hebrew.

Ever since I posted one of Abi's Ghazals on Facebook, I have had two members of my extended family (and a couple of friends) tell me to do a blogpost about him. One blogpost wouldn't do, I thought when I started this one ... so this is Part 1 of the blogposts I will do about him.

This was his Ghazal that I posted

It's in his own handwriting.

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Abi was born in Rampur on April 11th, 1900, to Safdar Ali and Mahlaqa Begum and was given two names (a feature that was common on those days): Khāqān Alam (a name that he never used) and Azhar Ali (from which he dropped the Ali).

His Urdu name was ازہر قدوائ … although many people wrote it as اظہر (a much more common name in Urdu). But surely you do remember Al-Azhar? That's الازہر. The two words have different meanings. The ظ one brings ظاہر o your mind. The ز one comes from the meaning of light: Think of the planet زہرا … (Btw, my name is زہیر عاؔلم قدوائ ).

Our last names are Kidvai (and is obviously part of the Qidwai, Quidwai, Kidwai, etc.). The reason why my father used the K/V is because we are descended from Kazi Kidva, a Turkish Judge who came to India with Mughal Emperor, Babar. In the Turkish alphabet there is no Q or W. You can see this here …

And surely you have seen Qur'an written as Koran

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He went to Aligarh for his studies (as did his father and a couple of chachas). He graduated as a B.A. in English Literature. Was a strong member of the Congress Party and also strongly supported the Khilafat Movement. He spent a brief time in Jail, condemned by the British Rulers.

On his return from Jail he decided to put together an Urdu Collection of Essays and Short Stories. It was called Naee Paod. Here is the cover:

I have a copy (the book is no longer in print now) and will add a story in my second blogpost about him.

He also (occasionally) translated some verses from English into Rübāis and Qit'as. Here is one that you might like.

A little later he decided to go to Scotland for a Degree in Medicine. His father agreed and sent him there … but hardly sent any money later (although my grandfather had plenty, but that is another story).

He had a pretty bad time in Scotland where he was doing his Degrees and would never go out with his friends, saying he had a 'secret date'. Actually he went to a small restaurant and ordered hot water and poured it into a glass, adding the Tomato Sauce to make it like a soup. That was most of the time. His friends thought he was dating a famous person and were eventually eventually told that he was in hospital. His left kidney had failed. He had had an operation and was now living with just one kidney.

I heard about all the above from his close friend, Rashid Chacha, in Karachi. I was amazed that my father had never ever mentioned this to me. When I asked him why he had never said this to me, he said it was about him and his father and I had no business to interfere in this.

He had no money to pay for his exam and his very close friend (?), Auntie Dorothy, decided to loan him the money to appear for the exam. Two years later he came to India as his mother was dying with Cancer. After her death he married my mother and told her on the second day that he would not be able to run the house with what he used to get as he had to return the money to Auntie Dorothy. My mother gave him the jewellery that she had been given in her jahez and it was sold so the he could send the full money to Auntie Dorothy. (My parents lived in Aligarh and that's where I was born.)

When Abi was in Scotland, he practiced his Medicine in a small town called Monifieth. When I was in the Merchant Navy as a Second Officer, my First Officer - John W. Cowper (JWC) - gave me a letter to post to his father. I saw Monifieth on the address and mentioned it to Abi. He said he knew who this person was the son of and I mentioned tis to JWC. On the next trip to UK, JWC took me to Monifieth and I met many of Abi's old friends, including Auntie Dorothy and JWC's father. They all remembered him and said he was very funny and he cracked lots of jokes and puns. 

JWC died a year later soon after his father passed away and he was informed that 'as an adopted son' he had been given his father's money according to the will. He never knew that he was adopted. Came home. Drank for days. And was found dead. I told my father this and he said he knew that JWC was adopted but his father had said to all his friends never to say this to JWC.

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More in my next blog.