The son of a trading merchant was he Who went by the name of Mohammad Ali At sixteen he left home, his kith and kin For England, where he joined the Lincoln’s Inn The youngest Indian to be called to the bar For a trader’s son, it was a cry too far Assiduous, devoted, he made his own way And finally met fame in the courts of Bombay. But law alone was too small for a scope Politics he felt had more promise, more hope. He soon made a name in this field too As a man of honour records Naidu. For the national interest he worked from the start But within this framework, he was a Muslim at heart. Dedicated, bold, and sincere to the core He fought for the Muslims on a nationalist floor. As ambassador of unity he wanted home rule Any thoughts to the contrary, was not his school. As time went by it was abundantly clear That the Congress wanted no power to share. For the Muslims he saw consequences dire Out of the frying pan into the fire. The British must leave of that he was sure But for the minorities, he had to find a cure. He drafted safeguards, which at first were agreed But this was short lived, A congress misdeed Upright he was and his rivals knew That promises made would be carried through His word of honour if once spoken Was known to all would never be broken. While he remained steadfast on any agreement Breaking covenant by others was alarmingly frequent. It made him bitter, it made him irate But go back on his word was not his trait. Reason or logic they were loath to understand They had majority and hence an upper hand Concessions to Muslims was not their desire As that would lessen power over India entire. Here! Here! They cried, it’s for all to see The All India Congress is the only party Mr. Jinnah and his League has nothing to do With the affairs of India, so said Nehru He cried for unity but there was no echo The Congress was riding high, and all were to bow Rioters were rampant, and Muslims were the prey The head counts were rising day after day. Great Gandhi too added to the hurt When Muslims he said, must quit or convert. Jinnah fought on but despair was his lot His pleadings he could see, totaled to naught Disgusted, frustrated, he called it a day Gathered his talents and sailed away. As soon as the Muslims could sense their plight They sent for Jinnah to lead in their fight. Homeward he came, the son of the soil And tried to find reason in the growing turmoil. Shortchanged and slighted, but the leader of the League Forestalled, checkmated, all sham and intrigue His manner throughout had poise and grace Of duplicity no hint, of deceit no trace. “ Think a hundred times,” he would say Then decide on a course, and hold no sway. A rule which he followed through thick and thin A rule by which he made many a win. He soon could see the futility of it all As loud and clear came his clarion call “ Muslims are a nation by all canons of the law” And those who thought different their thinking had a flaw Regarding the British, he sent a clear note To verify his uttering, they must take a vote Thus to the polls went the whole country Where support for the league was for all to see. Though the League was established by the poll result For the Congress it was an affront, an insult Which widened the gap between the two evermore Erupting in shape of riotings galore. And so with the tension and grimness of things The mounting distrust and the senseless killings The growing intrigues, the deceit, and the mess He cried, I want Pakistan, no more, no less The British laughed the Hindus mocked the cronies taunted But he pressed on, determined and undaunted Till the final hour struck a victory to his cause A new home for the Muslims, Pakistan it was. Disjointed, unruly, unsure was the band Which he led so bravely to the promised land. Unity, Faith, Discipline, was his call And like the pied piper, behind him came all. He gathered the crowd, and welded a nation Some for sacrifice, but most for salvation. Such was the spirit, and such was the need And the man behind it was Jinnah indeed. Humble to the humble, and proud to the proud Elite and lordly, yet a darling of the crowd They understood his tongue, nor habit, nor style But deep down they knew that he had no guile. The Congress still hoped to inherit the power Unmindful that coalition was the need of the hour They called him stubborn, unyielding, unbending But so were all great men in principles defending. His heart was so clean, his mind so clear In a logical debate, he had no peer No Hindu, no Muslim, no Briton could say That he tried to win in a dubious way And even his ardent enemies agreed That he had no need, he was the need How all the pundits, the prophets had failed As this one man moved on unassailed. In times to come, the Hindus may see That Jinnah was the cause for India to be free. There never was a man born quite like him A great human, a great Muslim But the human in him was greater still As that is the true bow to Allah’s Will. A fighter he was, a soldier he was not A man so straight he never could be bought Power, nor riches, nor threats could subdue His great will, towards a path he felt true. I say no more, as it’s for all to see The fruits of his deeds, a new country Achieved through no war, or guns, or coercion But by sheer dint of will and the power of reason. Today when I see some talkers complain My heart is in rue, my soul is in pain But talkers are just talkers, they do no task Where are the doers, is plainly what I ask? Once in a millennium such a man does come Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the Quaid-e-Azam. Hadi Rizvi
Posted on: Fri, 17 Oct 2014 11:35:39 +0000