WHEN I STARTED TO DISMANTLE MY LIBRARY in anticipation of a move to Washington DC area, I experienced an epiphany as I began emptying the shelves and boxing up the books. I experienced an epiphany, a vision, a mirage filled with stories of crossing cultures, oceans, language and all manner of barriers, everything reflected in my book collection. It has been part of life over many decades — I cannot answer the question why I have held on for 50 years the to the first ever Sufi text in India, Kashaf al-Mahjoob, in Urdu. (It makes no kind of sense, by the way.)
I have lugged around a few thousand of these books through my many changes of addresses within Washington, DC, area and other cities. At home often, I’d pass by these books in my study and instantly recall their contents by looking at any of them. To imagine the loss of this pleasure was disturbing.
My alternative was to donate the books to any library, but who would want about 1,200 volumes in Urdu? including the many works of Qurratulayn Haider, volumes of Abul Kalam Azad’s tomes, the poetry collections of most of the important poets, including 10 books on Ghalib and 11 on Iqbal. Several of Faiz. Not to mention books on Tao Te Ching, Taoism and Buddhism, or books on Mughal history. Oh, how could I part with the historical novel, Noor Mahal, by Harold Lamb. Faithful to historical events, Lamb paints a heroic picture of the preeminent Mughal Queen, Noor Jahan or Noor Mahal born 1577, buried in Lahore, exiled by a victorious Shah Jahan, builder of the Taj Mahal.
RECENTLY, I GAINED ABOUT 20 friends om Facebook, and, as I welcomed them all humbly and happily, I couldn’t help wonder what posts attracted them? Likely, because of the wonderful Urdu couplets that Amir Jafri sahab posts, and explains the meaning, upon request. My interests and curiosity range across the universe. That phrase puts me in the mind of the Beatles led by John Lennon, RIP.
