Muhammad Hassan Miraj
The 16th day of April 1853 is special in the Indian history. The day was a public holiday. At 3:30 pm, as the 21 guns roared together, the first train carrying Lady Falkland, wife of Governor of Bombay, along with 400 special invitees, steamed off from Bombay to Thane.
Ever since the engine rolled off the tracks, there have been new dimensions to the distances, relations and emotions. Abaseen Express, Khyber Mail and Calcutta Mail were not just the names of the trains but the experiences of hearts and souls. Now that we live in the days of burnt and non functional trains, I still have a few pleasant memories associated with train travels. These memoirs are the dialogues I had with myself while sitting by the windows or standing at the door as the train moved on. In the era of Cloud and Wi-Fi communications, I hope you will like them.
Other than Sultan and Chander Bhan, Jhang has references which the national history has chosen to forget. One such reference is Dr Abdus Salam, who is intentionally being erased from public memory, unfortunately, on accounts of religion. Official historians stumble upon his reference much similarly as they deal with the chapter of genetics in advanced biology textbooks; staple it and think it forgotten.
Born in the small dwellings of Santok Das, Abdus Salam spent most of his childhood in Jhang. His grandfather was a religious scholar and his father was an employee in the education department and so, it was the mainstay in Abdus Salam’s household. There are rumours that his parents saw a dream forewarning them about his illustrious career and then there are stories about him being taken to school for admission in the first grade but qualifying for the fourth grade instead. Regardless of these anecdotes, his academic life was indeed, a matter of honor. When anyone inquired about his young age and distinction in examinations, he simply raised his finger and pointed towards the sky, attributing it towards Allah. Those were the times of the Raj and religion was a private affair, rather than now when it is determined by parliamentary committees under the influence of protests.
Despite his love for literature, Salam took up sciences when he joined college. He opted for this route for qualifying for ICS, a job much envied by his family but after being turned down on medical grounds; he decided to pursue further education. Cambridge University, those days, offered scholarships for which Abdus Salam applied, despite his frail economic conditions. Between the benevolence of Sir Choto Ram, a minister in the Punjab Government and Abdus Salam’s luck, a candidate dropped off from the final list. The much desired Cambridge scholarship, for which people applied for months in advance and prayed for days, now belonged to him. That year, when people across the world arrived at Cambridge with their expensive effects, a young man from Jhang with his sole steel trunk was also amongst them.