Qazi Syed Saifuddin

73rd Republic Day had special significance for me as I had the honor of attending the celebrations at Qazi Syed Saifuddin Sir’s Nagpur Residential School ( Boys Home) in Nagpur.

With The School Staff Members.

A TRIBUTE TO TAAYA SAHAB BY
Dr. Syed Nazim Quazi

Marhoom Qazi Syed Saifuddin, Taaya Saab for me.

Few people have known Taaya saab better than me. I had the privilege of having spent the better part of my childhood under his benevolent shadow. In order to fully understand the evolution of the persona of Taaya saab it will be pertinent to recall a brief history of the prevailing conditions at that point of time.

Our grandfather Janab Quazi Syed Waziruddin, father of Taaya Saab, passed away when he was quite young. The large family was left with no means for sustenance as income from farming was meagre those days. Some of the elder boys had to take up available employments. Taaya saab had just done his BSc from Aligarh where he was also a student leader and had also earned a US Scholarship for higher studies. But as dictated by the will of Allah and for the support of young brothers and sisters, he opted to join Anjuman School at Nagpur. Then he joined Bishop Cotton School on the invitation of the Principal there.

My father, Marhoom Quazi Syed Moinuddin was posted at Chattisgarh and hence, I was sent to Nagpur for my schooling and stayed with Taaya Saab.

I think the golden period of Taaya Saab's life was when he was a Science teacher at Bishop Cotton School. It was early post independence era and the British influence was still there. With his handsome looks suit and tie he stood apart. Bishop Cotton offered him a great platform to showcase his abilities.
Whether syllabus or extracurricular activities he was a winner in every field.
He was the First Officer of the NCC Air Wing in Nagpur and its performance was so good that his troop was regularly invited to be part of the Republic Day Parade in New Delhi. As if that was not enough, he was also the sports and cultural events incharge. In sports his group Knight house always topped the charts.Same trend was in the cultural events where we won school and inter school honours under his leadership. He was very respected senior Science teacher and wrote several books for the school curriculum.The series "Jadeed Science" in urdu won acclaim in Maharashtra and was part of the syllabus. He was a Senior Board member of the Maharashtra Board of Secondary Education.

Such was his energy and zeal that he could have earned top honours in any field.At the time of the second world war he was selected as an officer in the Indian air force.He did not finally join the force due to family reasons.Recalling that Prof.Rafiuddin sb his elder cousin once told me that Saifuddin would have become the Air Force Chief he had continued to serve in the Air Force. I agreed with him totally.
Our home at the Bishop Cotton School was a virtual hostel. At any given time there would be ten to twelve relatives and friends living as house guests. And I must mention here that Dulhan Tai (Marhooma Begum Saifuddin ) who handled the situation very well. She managed the home front and gave Taaya saab full cooperation.She remained Dulhan Tai till the end. Hats off to this marvelous couple.

Also I must add here that I had a wonderful camaraderie with my younger cousins Salim, Suhail and Sabiha.I can never forget the games we played in the vast open spaces and corridors of the Bishop Cotton.There was not a moment of acrimony between us. My thanks to them for all those happy times. Sajid and Saihba were born much later.

His philanthropy was legendary. He never kept an account of the money he gave away as loans. With his limited income he hardly cared for the life next day. He always had an eye for the underdog and underprivileged. Stories still keep coming years after his death when people recount the instances of his magnanimity.

He cared for and loved his extended family which included us his nieces and nephews. Once he came to know our needs he would do his utmost to fulfill them. I liked to read Asian Age newspaper so he made it a point to send it nicely rubber banded everyday to my clinic till one day before he died. Small gestures like these were enough to remind that he loved you. No youngster returned without Eidee on Eid day from his home.

He was philosophical in face of adversity.We often heard him humming the famous lyrics of Sahir

"Barbadiyon ka sog manana fizool tha
Barbadiyon ka jashn manata chala gaya
har fikr ko dhuein me udata chala gaya".

Taaya saab tolerated all pain and suffering with dignity and calm. The day he had a major heart attack and was restless I pleaded with him for getting aid, he told me "tumhaara tension door karne ke liye chalo yeh bhi kar lete hain".

He recovered and went on to live a near normal life till the end because of his tremendous will power.

It is difficult to contain the happenings of a lifetime in this space. My account is based on my personal observations as a growing child and are not hyped to
create effect.

His end was peaceful.I remember I was sitting with him and we were watching the news on television.The story was felling of the twin towers of New York .It was 9/11. Horrific it was.I went home with a touch of sadness. As I was trying to catch up with sleep the phone rang. Salim was on the line.Taaya saab was unwell .I rushed to his home but he had breathed his last.I was shattered. It took long moments to fully absorb the enormity of the situation. A Titan had fallen.
Almost a decade and a half has passed but it looks like yesterday. Dulhantai also passed away few years ago. Rest of the family has shifted out of Nagpur. When I pass by the old vacant residence in Sadar sometimes, I have a lump in my throat. Not long ago this place was bustling with life. "Jaane kahaan gaye woh log".

On occasions when I visit the Qabrastan I pray for the maghfirat of the departed soul. May Allah grant him the choicest place in Jannat ul Firdos.Ameen

Mr Masih and the Platform of Nagpur Railway Station
By Sohail Qazi

It was in the mid 60s, I remember Mr Masih, the Boys Home Hostel Warden, as a middle aged man probably from Bengal or Orissa. His family consisted of 2 boys and 2 girls and his wife and they lived behind the Hostel in a makeshift home that Mr Saifuddin had created out of nowhere.

It was my elder brother who filled me up on how he came to be the Hostel Warden of our Boys Home. Mr Masih had lost his job and had nowhere to go and some how it seems he had landed up on the Nagpur Railway Station with his family of 4 kids and his wife.. They had no money to go any further and they knew no one in Nagpur. They were hungry and broke and did not know what to do. It was a Railway Coolie who saw their predicament and suggested to Mr Masih that he go to Boys Home and meet Mr Saifuddin and perhaps he could find some help.

In the days when there was no internet, no Facebook or whatsapp, still some how even the Railway coolies knew and advised people to go to Boys Home if there were in trouble. Rest, of course, is one more addition to the legend of Boys Home of Sadar Nagpur. Mr Masih and his family lived in Boys Home for almost 5 years, His sons got educated and his daughters got married and so it was a happy ending.

Interestingly, Mr Masih once came to Mr Saifuddin and said that he wanted to become Muslim. Mr Saifuddin told him that he needs to do his own study and not be influenced in any way by his moral or financial support. Mr Saifuddin never could distinguish people by their background. He loved every one regardless of their ethnicity, back ground or religion. We had Chinese, Bengali, Malayalee, Sikhs, Tamilian, Anglo Indian teachers in our School and they were totally committed and loyal to their "Sir", Mr Saifuddin and I was his very very proud son. I simply wish some times that we could go back to those old days where we were so accepting of our differences and lived happily with each other.

The life and times of the brilliant Mister Vyas

Through my carefree childhood and even in my college days, I would spend all my quiet time in Babaji's (Qazi Syed Saifuddin) room watching the stories of people's life unfold slowly as I grew up. Some of them were marvelously inspiring and some of them were Shakespearean tragedies. Mr. Ram Lal Vyas story is one such tragedy.

Mr. Vyas (as I used to call him) was a young college going lad when he was introduced to Mr. Saifuddin. The person who brought him from a small town in Madhya Pradesh had praised him for his intelligence and brilliance. As I looked at him curiously, Mr. Vyas appeared to me as a serious intense person. It seems he was in need of a place to stay and also some money so that he could continue his studies in Nagpur. Mr. Saifuddin as expected not only arranged for his stay in Boys Home but also created a new post in Boys Home (Study Warden) to supervise the study time for the Boys Hostel which was an excuse to provide financial support without hurting Mr. Vyas’s ego. The hidden fact was that Babaji because of his generous ways never ever had enough money for his own household.

Mr. Vyas soon developed a huge liking for Babaji and in turn he was always treated like a star by Babaji. I came to know that Mr. Vyas would study 16 hours a day and was a brilliant student. Time passed, Mr. Vyas got married and he took a small flat nearby. Babaji gave him a teaching post in our School. Babaji would always be full of praise of Mr. Vyas and he wanted me to be like him. Mr. Vyas wanted to be a great scientist and win a Nobel Prize. I was always in awe of him. I always felt that I was talking to the most intelligent man on earth. One day, Babaji was very excited and happy. Mr. Vyas had told him that he had passed his Master of Science Degree and got the Gold Medal from Nagpur University. And soon, Babaji started insisted that Mr. Vyas go to United States for further studies. Applications were sent, passport made and Babaji borrowed left right and centre for the expensive ticket and travel expenses and soon we all went to Bombay to see Mr. Vyas flying away to America as a young scientist.

Mr. Vyas went on to work in the same laboratories as Mr. Khorana, the famous Noble prize winning scientist who had discovered the functions and the codes of the RNA and also synthesize the first building blocks of the gene. Mr. Vyas also created certain techniques for use in the Biochemistry Labs that were soon named after him. Babaji was very proud of Mr. Vyas's achievements and wanted me to emulate his example too. Babaji then arranged for the passport of Mrs. Vyas and his sons, Gopal and Ajay and the Visa Interview and finally we went again to Bombay to bid them goodbye too. During Mr. Vyas’s absence, Babaji arranged for the marriage of the sister-in-law of Mr. Vyas and rented a house for Mr. Vyas chachi and his nephew Dinesh and niece Geeta.

The relationship between Babaji and Mr. Vyas was now of a father and son. Mr. Vyas now considered Babaji not just a father but something even greater than that. And when Mr. Vyas come to India for a short vacation, he brought a Tissot watch for him. Babaji was so happy that day, his face shone like the bright summer sun outside. He had already arranged for desert coolers and refrigerator in Chachi's house, while we did not have either in our own house. During the vacation, Babaji ( myself along with him) spent most of his time in Chachi's house with Mr. Vyas talking about his work in America and his passion of photography. Mrs. Vyas tied Rakhi to Babaji in a very nice elaborate ceremony done according to the Hindu tradition. Finally Mr. Vyas left for the US again with a promise to me that once when I grew up he will make sure that I studied in a good university there. That of course was a dream of any youngster in those days. He also gave his Canon camera to me, making me very happy and inspiring me to take up photography too. I was lucky as growing up can be so much fun in such a loving and nice environment.
PS: To be continued…Actually to write further is to relive what slowly turned into a painful tragedy which Babaji never talked about and I really do not want to share but perhaps one day I will get the courage.

A Famous Entrepreneur from London remembers his Mentor and Teacher - By Saihba

What do you write about your father who is so much more than everything and who makes you feel proud of being his daughter whenever his name is mentioned.

I remember an incident in the early 1990's when I was invited to an elite party in Boston. The party was in honor of a very famous entrepreneur millionaire from England and was hosted by highly placed Indian entrepreneurs in Boston. The atmosphere was lavish, very posh and I felt nervous and a bit out of place. Finally, the guest of honor rose to give his speech, a very inspiring talk of his struggle to reach the top of his business profession and earn so many laurels. During his speech, he touched on the main reason for his success.

He said, "When I was a high school student in 1960 in Nagpur- I did well in sports and other extracurricular activities but not so well in the class room. Everyone slowly lost faith in me and said I would never amount to anything worthwhile in life. But life had different plans for me, there was this Maths Teacher who lived near the Saraf Chambers, I remember him well, he was tall, handsome and charismatic. He took interest in me and encouraged me. For him, I always did something to be praised, never anything bad. He believed in me completely. No matter what I did, he kept encouraging me, urging me to realize my potential. He made me want to do better and better, and finally my life changed - from a failure to a success. Whatever I am today - I owe it the most to him. "

I had listened with amazement, my Babaji had been the Maths Teacher in Bishop Cotton School in the 60s and he did live near Saraf Chambers in the days before I was born.

And so with nervous excitement, I rushed to this famous person and inquired "This teacher that you speak of - was his name Qazi Syed Saifuddin by any chance?" He was stunned, looked at me carefully and wondered, "How do you know Saifuddin Sir". I burst out very proudly, "I am his daughter". In that precious moment, I stood tall in a gathering of eminent people, becoming transformed from an insignificant guest from a small town in India to being a respected somebody in the world famous city of Boston. Thank you Babaji for making the difference, for being my pride and honor then - and forever!

Boys Home and English Primary School Nagpur Estd 1964

A Cow named Saifi.

Last year in Nagpur, October 2015, the rain was like a light mist on the terrace of Aman Vista and from this height, I stood looking at the peaceful green hills across the Gorewada Talaab. It was beautiful and I felt a tinge of pride for having built this building in such a nice area. I looked down from above and could see Rayan chatting with the neighbor. The neighbor's house had Mango, Guava and Sitaphal trees in the garden. He must be living from a long time here to have built such a nice house.

Rayan came up and said "Baba, our neighbor knows us and wants to meet you too.". What Rayan said next was amazing and suddenly Aman Vista did not seem big enough to me.

"Baba", Rayan said, "Our neighbor is an HRD Manager in the Thermal Power Plant. He was saying that when he was small, his father was a poor man. He was struggling to get him educated. He had admitted him in our school and had met Dadaji too.".

You know, they had a cow named Saifi." Rayan said suddenly.

I said, "A cow named Saifi. What do you mean?"

Rayan then told me the whole story. Dadaji had bought a cow and gave it to this gentleman's father. He told them to sell milk and earn the money for their household expenses. He only asked them in return to send him some good fresh milk or ghee whenever he can. Our neighbor said, we owe a lot of our progress to your grandfather and had named the cow in his honor.

So there, as my eyes went cloudy with water, I felt Babaji besides me smiling kindly. He would live on as a greater human being in the hearts of people he cared for.

Bishop Cotton School's gain was Anjuman School's loss.
(As narrated by Naeemuddin chachejaan)

Lal Bangla was The Address in Nagpur for all the young boys coming from the towns and villages around Nagpur to study and make a career. I used to stay there and so did many others, Naeemuddin Chachejaan told me. Lal Bangla was the residence of Saifuddin Bhaijaan. He had joined Anjuman High School in 1947. The school started to win most of the sport prizes in the Inter School Competition. Chachejaan told us that once in the School Football Finals, Anjuman High School was playing against BCS and Anjuman was winning. Mr. Stacy, the British Head Master of BCS, asked the people around him, he said "Who is that young man running at the side lines of the football field? He is running up and down with the ball like a lines man, encouraging his boys”. Mr. Stacy was told that it was Mr. Saifuddin. The Anjuman School boys were playing barefoot but they won 2-0 that day. The very next day, a black car arrived at the Lal Bangla with Mr. Stacy inside. Saifuddin Bhai was invited to join BCS which he did not accept at first. Saifuddin Bhai wrote a list of his requirements for joining BCS. One of requirement was to be allowed to have guests living with him in the School Residence. Anjuman School had given Saifuddin Bhaijaan a memo denying him the right to have guests living with him in the Lal Bangla. All the demands were agreed by Mr. Stacy. BCS and Mr. Saifuddin together were destined for a great future thereafter. Whatever Saifuddin Bhai did, he first made sure that it would not have a negative effect on the people around him. It was his dedication to the BCS Football team that it produced some of the best footballers it had seen. Mudaliar, Stanley, Omar, Hassan. This was the team that played a fantastic match when they beat the visiting Football Team from New Zealand.