class for fear of not being published, he was satisfied and did not proceed further.

By & by, I started to dream like becoming another Tagore &  Iqbal and the students and teachers of the college also foresaw that in my youth, I shall attain great popularity as an Urdu Poet. But there was a great hurdle before me in pursuing my hobby. When ever I penned a new Ghazal or poem I  remained blissful with its charm for a few days, after which I started doubting its efficacy when its initial charm was over. I got restless and badly needed some guidance. One day, I gave a new piece of poetry to the elder Maulana with the request to improve upon it. But the Maulana gave it back to me after a few days, saying that, though, he could point out the technical shortcomings in the piece but he could not improve upon it. He advised me to approach a renowned poet for the purpose so as to improve my technical skills.

Accordingly, I sent a few pieces of Ghazals and poems to ‘Allama Seemaab Akbarabadi’, who was considered to be a great poet at that time and had his hundreds of disciples through out the country.

I requested him to accept me as one of his disciples, citing all my circumstances and age etc. He accepted my request and wrote back to me ‘my son, if you continue your hobby through - out life like this, there is every possibility that one day your name may be included in the list of renowned poets of this country. This certificate from a great poet like him was enough to boost my morale like anything and I started writing more vigorously.

But, as ill luck would have it, the news of my absorption in my hobby reached my father. He, instead of talking to me in person, wrote a long letter to me which changed the entire course of my life. Its contents were, in short, like this, “You are the leading light of our family whose all future hopes of sustenance are centered on you. You are treading on a path which will lead you to the same fate which befalls every Urdu Poet who, ultimately, suffers from misery and starvation. You  have been sent to college for higher studies and not for being engaged in composing verses etc. etc.

I was really very much afraid of my father’s temper. I never wanted to displease him. There was also some force in his arguments. I, therefore, felt non - plussed. But at the same time, was very much vexed and diseased. To compose verses now

became a thing of the past and just like committing a sin. The hobby which was a part and parcel of my life so far, now turned out to be a night mare and a secret affair. Regular  writing stopped. Whenever something was composed while humming some tune. I noted in my diary but some verses were lost in memory.

I was afraid of taking part in ‘mushairas’ lest my parents may come to know of it. Once there was a grand ‘mushaira’ in another college. The two maulvies of our college persuaded me to take part in it as I was the only winning dice with them. When I recited my poem there, under the caption ‘My childhood days’ it was very much appreciated by the gathering. It appeared as if every body was reminded of his childhood days. I was only fourteen years old then and a student of 8th class. Every listener felt amazed. Both the ‘maulvies’ were flabbergasted. They thought that it was the result of their way of teaching.

After passing my matriculation from D.J. Inter College, Baraut. I joined Meerut College in intermediate class and Urdu was one of my subjects there, too, and attained good proficiency in the language.

In those times, there used to be around one thousand eight hundred students in the Meerut college in all. Morning prayers used to be held every day in college grounds and the principal Mr. Chatterjee used to address the prayer meetings.

I got admission in the Jain Boarding House  on the Railway Road and used to attend the college going on a bicycle. The city was sparsely populated then. The roads looked deserted. There were only four or five motor cars in the whole city. The resident superintendent of the boarding house was a professor in Govt. Inter College, about 3 kilometers away from the hostel. He used to walk along the road side all the way to his college, while reading the Hindustan Times newspaper. Such was the traffic on the roads. There were only horse carriages and bicycles plying thereon. Only two or three private buses were scheduled to run between Meerut and Delhi.
And to day the same Meerut city has a population of about sixteen lacs people with the same roads and the traffic jams and road accidents causing loss of lives and limbs. But all this is a separate issue.

At that time, Second World War was going on financial stringency was prevailing all over. The Govt. arranged an All

India Urdu Mushaira at Meerut under the convenorship of Nawab Baghpat Jamshed Ali Khan Saheb, who was in the good books of the British Government. This ‘mushaira’ continued for two consecutive nights in the play ground of Govt. Inter college. Every poet of repute in the country participated in this event. The ‘Pandal’ was full to its capacity. During that period Shaair – e – Inqualab ‘Josh Malihabadi’ was at the top, particularly, due to his patriotic Urdu Poems. Late in the night, when the ‘Mushaira’ was at its peak ‘Josh’ entered the ‘Pandaal’. He was greeted with high pitch slogans like ‘Shair – e – inqualab Zinda bad’. I had seen him for the first time. His red and white face, youthful countenance and spot less attire over - awed me. He  sat for a little while listening to one or two poets and then asked the convenors to listen to his compositions first. The convenor agreed and he recited his poem ‘ Jaulaan gahe Idbaar mein jauoon ki ne jauoon’ with a high pitch resounding voice which reverberated in the whole ‘pandaal’, followed by great applause.

Next day, ‘Josh Malihabadi and Eijaz Lucknawi’ were invited by Meerut College to recite their poems in the college Hall. I do not recollect which of his poems ‘Josh’ recited but I do remember the piece that Eijaz read. That was one of his renowned poem captioned as ‘Awaara’, which goes as