Not only does a utobiography, vividly told in first person narrative, portray individual’s account of the reality but also provides clinching evidence for historical research. If the narrator happens to be a literary critic of eminence, an able academic, academic administrator, as well as a highly scrupulous politician to have served as the Union health minister then it is quite befittingly expected that such an account will exude deep social insights. Skilfully laconic volume in Urdu, “Aashram” by Shakeelur Rehman gives a perceptive panoramic view of the lived reality. Born and brought up in Motihari (the birth place of George Orwell) with ancestral roots in Harpur (Baniapur, Saran), where his grandfather Leeladhar Prasad is buried. Under the influence of a syncretic Sufi, his grandfather converted to Islam, re-christened himself as M. Abdur Rehman. He belonged to a prosperous and educated Kayastha family of Saran that also produced Dr Rajendra Prasad (1884-1963), the first President of the India.
A peep into Rehman’s autobiography seems necessary to pay a tribute to Bart Moore-Gilbert who passed away on December 2, 2015. Moore-Gilbert’s oeuvre presents a judicious mix of travel writing, historical research, anecdotes and personal memoir. Rehman’s “Aashram” — the abode of existential self — explores innumerable layers of self-discovery that refuse to be lost in the riptide of history. To him, autobiography – the art of representation of the self – is basically an exercise at looking into the past with all its shades and vicissitudes, through the prism of all possible evidence. He recollects 1857 through the Bhojpuri folk songs which his aunt used to sing.
Shakeelur Rehman inherited the tradition of having thorough grounding in comparative religion and literature from his grandfather.
In the world of Urdu literature he is known for opening new vistas of aesthetics upon Urdu speaking people. The sweep of his work is awe-inspiring. It ranges from an appraisal of the works of Amir Khusro, Kabir, Dara Shukoh, Mir, Ghalib, Faiz, Prem Chand, Manto, Maulana Azad, Rumi, Akhtarul Iman, Firaq, etc., besides a biography of Ahmad Nadeem Qasmi. He also jotted down a travelogue, “Deewaar-e-Chin se Butkhana-e-Chin Tak”. His deep emotive concerns for environment, is creatively articulated in “Ek Alamat Ka Safar” (Journey of a Symbol). He describes many oral traditions to reconstruct local history of Champaran. Besides his works on paintings and on classical music, celebration of India’s composite culture is exactly what he pitches for.
Despite his wide-ranging readings, intellectual depth and proven academic credentials, he, in the 1950s, had to run from pillar to post for a job of teaching. He could eventually get it in Kashmir, far away from Bihar, and that too on the recommendation of the then minister of education Maulana Azad.
Having taught Urdu literature at the University of Kashmir, Shakeelur Rehman served as the Vice Chancellor of two universities in Bihar, where he confronted the deep-rooted irregularities rampant in the academics. He came face to face with the then education minister who was a teacher in the Mithila University. His daring crackdown against the powerful vested interests earned such popularity that he was elected to the Parliament (1989) and went on to become the Union health minister. He has recorded these details in his “ Darbhanga Ka Jo Zikr Kiya”.
Rehman as a school student saw in Motihari how communalism started growing rapidly in 1945-46 amidst fast-paced political changes during the packing days of the colonial rule. Disgusted with the communal riots of 1946 he wrote a drama, ‘Milap’ (Unity) – staged to welcome India’s independence. Some chapters are particularly useful for comprehending the Partition.
He reveals the high academic rigours of undergraduate education in the Munshi Singh College (Motihari). He shares: as a BA student, having Economics as a subsidiary, the students had to make a one month field visit to a specific village to write a dissertation on its economy. During this process he came in touch with an activist, Rameshwar, who made him study Marxist literatures and Russian fiction.
He also gives accounts of the highly committed, well-read teachers of Urdu literature in the Universities in Muzaffarpur, and in Patna in early 1950s. Comparing with today’s scenario, one feels quite sad about the state of affairs in these resource-starved universities in general and alarming academic downfall of the literature of the embattled and marginalised language of Urdu in particular.
He makes references of his own ‘diaries’ and ‘notebooks’ to ensure factual accuracies to his account, at times with precise dates, though he is not self-critical about himself.
He describes the processes and methodologies of the way the students across the disciplines were initiated into classical and modern literature, listing out a wide range of such books, in the schools/colleges, in addition to the family traditions. His profiles of many such erudite and hardworking teachers are huge tribute and gratitude to those mentors and useful guide to the concerned parents and teachers also.
Today, in his 80s, the passionate lover of the beauties and bounties of nature, the former health minister is living with old-age health issues in his house – Madhuban — in Gurgaon. But Aashram continues to be quite useful in reconstructing cultural, and to some extent political histories.
