ME AND MAULANA: A PERSONAL RECOLLECTION OF WAHIDUDDIN KHAN - John M. Butt

I spent a whole 25 years away from India, pursuing my media career, mainly in Afghanistan. When I returned to India in 2009, Maulana was as pleased to see me as he had been 30 years previously, in his small office in Gali Qasim Jan. “Aap ka ana, sare dunya ka ana hai—your coming is the coming of the whole world—aap pur-amn mujahid hain—you are a peaceful mujahid,” were some of his remarks, marking my return. Maulana did not only mould my thinking. He enabled me to have original thinking, that he also could relate to and endorse. HE LIVED IN FAITH AND FORGIVENESS Sudhamahi Regunathan, New Delhi T he ideal and the amazing lend themselves to beautiful words and phrases but when it comes to describing in reality, someone who stood way above the rest, words falter and get into a hagiographical tussle. That is the problem of writing about Maulana Wahiduddin Khan. The sparkle of love in his eyes and the softness of his voice were unmatched. He exuded peace and compassion, his tall majestic form finding description in phrases, like ‘font of compassion’, ‘embodiment of peace’ and a ‘repository of wisdom’. His mother perceptively called him, ‘Allah wala wahid’ (my God-oriented son).