Reality of Life: An Autobiography by Syed Khasimuddin Phd

By Syed Khasimuddin

The author was born in Hyderabad, India, into a lower middle-class family. He got his high school education from a Catholic Missionary school, the best in town, and went on to get a bachelors and masters degree in entomology. He then got into the University of California at Riverside and earned a PhD in entomology under the supervision and guidance of Prof. Paul H. DeBauch, a world authority in biological control.

Growing up in India with proper social/ethical values instilled by his elders and his school gave him the background to lead a decent life in different parts of the world.

His professional career started after his masters and includes research and teaching in entomology in India, Kenya, Zimbabwe, England (Oxford University), Jordan (with the USAID), and USA (California) where he primarily worked for the state of California as a research scientist. His work in Kenya was with an international research organization (UN funded). He has eighteen scientific publications to his credit, published in internationally known/recognized scientific journals.

In his social life, he has been deeply involved in community work and drafted to lead several institutions/organizations throughout his adult life. He is also the founder of an Islamic school (nationally recognized) and a Muslim cemetery in Sacramento, California. Retired in 2009, he devotes most of his time to community work.

This current venture is an effort to convey to the reader the down-to-earth meaning and the real values of life, the understanding of some of the natural sciences from a laymans perspective, and above all, leading a content life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jul 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532027239

Syed Khasimuddin

Born in Hyderabad, India into a lower middle-class family. Went to a Catholic Missionary High School. Received a Bachelor’s and Master’s degree in Agriculture. Came to U.S.A. and earned a Ph.D. degree from the University of California in Entomology. Worked in Africa (Kenya and Zimbabwe for ten (10) years and moved back to U.S. and worked as a Research Scientist with the California Dept. of Food and Agriculture. Published 18 scientific articles of research in reputed International Scientific Journals. Retired during 2009 and currently solely involved in Community work on Voluntary basis.

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Copyright © 2017 Syed Khasimuddin.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-2722-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-2723-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017910343

iUniverse rev. date: 08/22/17

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Contents

BIOGRAPHY

Introduction

Early Childhood

SCHOOL YEARS

Academics

Social/Home/Private Life

College Years

Kenya (Nairobi)

Back In Hyderabad (India)

Back In The U.S.

Establishing An Islamic School

Establishing A Muslim Cemetery

High School Reunions

Post-Retirement Travels

Conclusions

BIOGRAPHY

Syed Khasimuddin

Introduction

I begin this brief biography in the name of Allah (SWT), the most beneficent and the most merciful. About a year back my sons, Ahsan and Ameen suggested that I write my biography as they thought that I had a somewhat eventful life and they wanted that to be recorded. I have been meaning to and trying to get started but what with one thing and the other, it did not happen until now. I decided that whatever be the case I should fulfill their request to the best of my recollection and ability to narrate. Those reading this, not familiar with my/our extended family might find some parts confusing but those who are familiar will relate the events to the members of the extended family.

I was born in Hyderabad in India to my mother the late Sardar Begum and my father, late Syed Taher Mohamad Esq. who was working as a supervising Engineer for the Public Works Department (PWD) when he retired. My date of birth was recorded in the Lunar calendar (I will write some details about this in a later section). I was my parents’ first son after a daughter and also the first male child in our extended family. Needless to say, that I was treated as a very special person, especially when my second sister was born after two and a half years of my birth. I was named Syed Khasimuddin after my grandfather (nana) whose name was Mohammad Quasimuddin. My grandfather had passed away a few years before my birth due to complications from Diabetes, a disease I inherited through my mother. My grandfather was the Chief Inspector of Police with the Nizam administration before India’s independence and before Hyderabad was annexed into the current Indian territory. He was, I am told, a very famous person and was also a big benefactor of poor people. He was the uncle (mamu) of my father. My father’s mother had passed away when he was two or three years old and my grandfather (his mamu) brought him to his home where my father was raised. Therefore, my father was raised by my maternal grandfather and grandmother together with all my uncles and aunts who were all younger to him. I was told that my father used to take care of them as well as my grandmother after my grandfather’s passing. At the time of my birth there was the tradition in our family to give children a second name with which they would always be addressed, in addition to the official name – I was named QUADEER. These were the days when the traditional extended family living together was still in vogue and my parents would leave me with my grandmother (nani) for various periods of time and I grew very fond of my grandmother and also became her most favorite grandchild. Growing up being considered ‘very special’ has its ups and downs and it did in my case too. However, I was very fortunate to be in the care of my elders, all of whom instilled good mannerism and behavior in me. I was an extremely shy child, not talking unless talked to, and never interfering in any conversations of the adults. My grandmother loved me immensely and I was her most favorite grandchild. As a child I stayed with my grandmother many times. Once, when my parents were gone to my father’s workplace (away from Hyderabad) I stayed with my grandmother for quite some time and once, after about a month of living with her, I missed my parents so much that they say I went to my grandmother and said that I would pour kerosene oil over myself and burn myself – childhood imagination and way of expression, I think. Even when my parents decided that my father would work wherever his work took him and that my mother and we siblings will stay in Hyderabad for the sake of our schooling.

My father was an Engineer by profession and worked for the government as a civil engineer. As is expected, he got transferred to places wherever there were engineering projects going on. This caused my parents to move from one place to another. However, when I was about four years old my parents decided to settle the family in Hyderabad city while my father kept working at his projects away from Hyderabad and away from us. At that time I had one elder sister, Bilquis Begum, and one younger to me, Masarat Sultana. So, the three of us lived with our mother in Hyderabad and my father worked at his project sites. He used to come to Hyderabad once a month or sometimes once in two months for a few days. My third sister, Basalath Sultana was born when I was about 7 years old. She passed away at the age of 6 months for causes unknown. This happened on the eve of my aunt’s wedding – we buried her the morning of the wedding and took part in the wedding – a remarkable task for my mother, Sardar Begum. This incident also had its traumatic effect on all of us. When I was about 9 years old my fourth sister, Zahoor-unnisa (Munni-ma) was born, followed by my younger brothers, Syed Raziuddin (born 1952) and Syed Asifuddin (born 1954). Hence, I was one of six living children of my parents.

There are many aspects of life of any person, some very mundane and some very relevant. I have avoided writing about the mundane aspects, particularly those that I considered to be either sensitive or not really relevant. I have done this to keep the interest of the reader in the narration and avoid the element of boredom.

Early Childhood

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My recollection of my early childhood goes back to when I was about 4 years old.

Around that age, being a favored child, my uncle, Mohammad Kareemuddin Ahmad bought me an air-rifle (BB gun) which I enjoyed very much. However, soon afterwords, after India’s independence, Hyderabad had a dark period called the Police-Action. Hyderabad was a kingdom on its own and was ruled by the Asafjahi dynasty. The last ruler, at the time of India’s independence, was the king Osman Ali. Hyderabad under Osman Ali refused to join the rest of India and wanted to stay as an independent sovereign State. It was completely landlocked and there was no way of surviving as an independent State. Osman Ali’s decision was anything but sound/wise. The government of India decided to take military action and sent military/police to subdue Hyderabad State and make it part of India. Needless to say that this caused a lot of bloodshed in the entire State in which a great number of Muslims were massacred as well as made to surrender all weapons they possessed – it was not illegal to possess weapons during the Osmania rule. It is also known that in other parts of India such as the areas bordering India and the newly formed Pakistan, many Hindus and Sikhs were also massacred. What the ‘Police Action’ in Hyderabad did was the confiscation of weapons owned by civilians by the newly established Indian Government. Our family had to surrender all weapons including my air-rifle. I distinctly remember the pile of weapons we put in front the government officer who came to my grandmother’s house – needless to say that it left me very sad. One day during this Police Action it was rumored that the Indian army and some radical Hindu elements were raiding Muslim houses and killing people. Our elders got all the children together in one remote corner of my grandmother’s house and hid us all among bedding items (mattresses, blankets, comforters etc.. We all stayed huddled up in a bunch for several hours until it was considered safe to come out.

As a child I was considered very good looking to the extent that my school teachers thought I was ‘cute’. When I was about five years old my father bought a gramophone with several records of contemporary music – mostly songs from current movies. I became very fond of songs and started imitating those and developed a good singing talent. My eldest uncle (mother’s brother) who we called bade-mamu used to gather all children around and have me sing songs every so often. I will say more on this topic later.

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When we started living at the Devdi Musharraf Jung (see later), in the outer section, there were about 20 children in the age-group of 8 to 10 years. Two families related to my uncles, Nooruddin Esq. and Badaruddin Esq. lived in two other sections of the ‘devdi’. The ‘devdi’ was a huge facility of almost three acres of housing and an attached orchard (bagh) of about the same size. One of the two families was that of Mr. Hafeez with five children, three sons – Munir, Naseer, and Zaheer and two daughters – Ghousia and Choti bibi. The other family was that of Mr. Imam Ghori with two children- a boy named Arif and a girl named Anees. In another section lived my uncles family (bade mamu) with six children, one girl Surayya and five boys Mushtaq, Faiz, Ghouse, Ashfaq, and Farrooq. All the children played together at all times. On Sundays my uncle Badruddioin Esq. would gather all children and teach us gardening by putting us to work in the garden pulling weeds, making irrigation channels for the various fruit trees etc. In the evening he would organize plays involving all the children. On one such occasion he had all the boys climb on top of a shed over a storage room and had us jump down from there. When I jumped, I must have done it wrong as immediately after the jump I felt sharp pain in my lower back and my whole body was covered with perspiration. My uncle quickly took me inside the house and had me lie down for some time. After a few minutes I was back to normal. There were mango trees, berry trees, Bananas, Curry leaf, Pomello (a kind of citrus fruit), and many more. During the mango season I and my siblings and sometimes other children, used to sneek in at night and pluck raw mangos from the trees. My uncle Nooruddin Esq. always scolded us for doing so, but we kept on doing the same – it was fun activity. The boys, including me, sometimes also played with other boys from outside the Devdi children. These kids did not have the same supervision as we did and were a little different in their behavior, mannerisms, language use, etc. My elders always scolded me for being with those boys but, boys being boys at that age, I still played with them on the street and spent time with them. However, having the proper supervision and control of my elders, I never learned their mannerisms and language use and always conformed to the elders’ instructions and advice. At times we boys would go to mango gardens situated some distance from where we lived, and steel mangos and bring them home. This was all done for the fun, more than any real need for mangos. We also would go to a reservoir in another part of town called ‘Mir Alam Tank’ and swim there. I relate this only to emphasize that, your individual traits and innate nature is more important than the atmosphere you grow up in. Those friends of mine are now respectable individuals and I had a chance to meet one of them during my trip to Hyderabad during 2012 – it was such a nostalgic occasion and I came back with the feeling that one has to cherish all memories in one’s life (good and not so good). Munir was of my age and he went to school at another famous school in town, the St.George’s Grammar School, commonly known as Grammar School. When Munir was in the third grade he contacted Meningitis and within a week he passed away. This was a very sad and traumatic experience for everyone concerned, especially for me who suddenly lost a friend and companion at that age. Allah (SWT) provides us with these memories for a good reason – to build your character and personality. Humans are made to be social creatures, and it is therefore essential that they experience all aspects of life, not just what is conventionally considered good - my personal understanding of the purpose of human creation, which I think is not different from true Islamic thought.

About 300 yards from the entrance to the ‘devdi’ was (and still is) a mosque which we used to go to every day for as many prayers of the day as possible. Right behind the Mosque was an old abandoned well with the water in the well still there. This well was quite a large one with about 25 feet square and the walls standing directly without any approach to the water. In other words, the water level, about 12-15 feet below the ground level, was not approachable. I always felt the urge to jump in that well for a swim but it was dangerous. One day when I must have been about 9/10 years old, I thought I should try and catch fish from that well. So I took a long household string, tied a small fish-hook (bought for less than a couple of pennies, tied the hook to one end of the string and to the other end tied a small stick from a tree branch (home-made fishing rod). I dug out some earthworms from the garden and put one worm on the hook and went to the well in the evening and dropped the ‘fishing line’ in the well standing on the edge of the well. After a few minutes I had a ‘bite’ and I pulled out a fish about 6/7 inches. When I got the fish on to the ground I tried to free it off the hook and as I held it the fish gave its head a sideways jerk which got its sharp organ (sticking out from either side of its mouth) into my finger. The finger started bleeding. I quietly took the fish and my ‘fishing rod’ home and showed my mother the fish. She saw the bleeding finger and when I told her what happened I received a strong scolding from her as to why in the world I did that, meaning why I even went to the well – what if I fell into the well. I told her I could swim and she said who would pull you out of the well? This is one of many childhood activities of the time. I relate it to emphasize to the reader the ways in which we kept ourselves entertained without demanding for expensive toys. Expensive toys were prevalent those days as well, but we did with whatever we could without having to burden our parents/elders with additional expense.

During summer months every so often all the households together would fill up a tank located in the garden (hauze) with water and everyone would play throwing water on everyone else. This activity involved all children and adults as well. Sometimes this playing with water would go so far that some of the adults would even pick up the dung from our buffalo and wipe it all over others, and yet other times wipe the tar from the back of frying pans and put it on the faces of others. In all this activity was a lot of fun not only for the children but also the adults of all households. It built very strong bonds with each other. During the year I graduated from high school, there developed a disagreement between my mother and her sisters (my khalas). Being a child I never found out what the disagreement was about but it lead to my mother looking for somewhere else to go and started looking for a different house.

My mother’s search found her a house next to Macca Masjid, which was an extremely large house, much more than our family’s requirements but the owner wanted to sell it as one unit instead of splitting it into two different units as my mother wanted. My mother agreed and arranged with an Auctioneer to buy the back side of the house for more than half of the total cost and ended up buying the whole house which she then immediately split and sold the back part to the auctioneers. We ended up with what was our house until my mother passed away and still is there. This place is known as the Chow Muhalla and was the property of the late Nizam (Osman Ali) where some of his so called ‘wives’ used to be housed. We moved in this house in 1961, while I was in second year of college studying Pre-Professional year (PPC) and my elder sister had started her Medical School.

When I was about seven years old, while we were still living in the ‘devdi’, I felt the urge to learn swimming and kept on pestering my mother about it. Finally she called Waheed mian, a house-boy and a handi-man living in the outer quarters of the ‘devdi’ and asked him to take me and teach me swimming. Waheed mian was very fond of me and took the task happily. He took me to an open well (there were several of these nearby where we lived) tied a sealed empty tin box on my back and while talking to me he slowly pushed me into the well. I started frantically to kick my legs and tread water with my arms. Soon after pushing me in Waheed mian also jumped in the well and stayed beside me while I was struggling to swim. After about half-an-hour, he slowly untied the tin box, without my knowledge. I was kicking my legs, struggling and then I realized that I was floating by myself. He gently kept his arm under my belly and guided me forward. We did this for another half hour and I was swimming on my own. This is how I learned to swim. Waheed mian also taught me to ride a bicycle.

My eldest uncle (bade mamu), my mother’s step brother was an Inspector with the Department of Excise and used to live with his family (see above) wherever he got transferred to within the State. When I was in the fifth/sixth grade my mamu decided to send his eldest son, Mushtaq (who was also named Quasimuddin) to live with us in Hyderabad and go to school there instead of roaming around from one village to another. Mushtaq thus came to live with us and was admitted to the same school as mine, Little Flower High School (LFHS). Mushtaq is about four months younger to me in age. When the school had summer vacations my mamu wanted Mushtaq to go to his family and also asked me to accompany him. I used to go with him and spend part of the summer vacation with their family. I went to some of the villages/towns they were at during various years. Towns that I spent time in included places called Nirmal, Kama Reddy, etc. In Kama Reddy my uncle’s house (provided by the Govt.) was next to a man-made lake. We used to go fishing in that lake. One year my mamu invited all the extended family to visit him in Kama Reddy. My other two uncles, Habeebuddin and Kareemuddin, all the children including me spent almost three weeks at that lake-side house and had lots of fun. The lake level that year went very low and fishermen had a ball reeling in plenty of fish. We ate fish to our hearts’ content for many days in a row. We also used to visit a village called Bibi Pet which was accessible only by bullock carts. This village was home to my aunty’s (bade mamu’s wife – mumani pasha) folks. Her folks were big landlords there owning extensive farms and Mango orchards and had a handful of servants working on the farms as well as at their farm house. There was no electricity in that village and lighting consisted of kerosene lamps. I went to this village two years and enjoyed it. Mushtaq and I used to go out in the day time to a man-made pond that served as a water reservoir for irrigation of the farms and go after the unripe dates on the date palms growing on the banks of this pond. One day there was a pair of birds (Bulbul) that landed on one of the palm trees and Mushtaq and I challenged each other to get the birds with stones. I picked up a stone, took a shot and low-and behold, it hit one of birds that fell down and died. I was thrilled but at the same time felt very bad that I killed it for no reason. I still cannot forget it after 60 plus years. The village, as I said, was accessible only by bullock-carts. One would board a train from Hyderabad, get down at Kama Reddy and then get on the bullock carts (also owned by my mumani pahsa’s family) and travel for four to five hours to get to the village. We used to ride on the carts for some time and then get down and walk alongside the carts and enjoy the open air and nature that way. This was a unique adventure for all the children.

One year we visited another village called Motha where my mamu’s relatives lived who were also landlords with big acreage farms. Mushtaq and I once went to the corn field with the caretaker of the field and he gave us freshly picked corns, roasted over fire right there. We ate lots of it and afterwards this caretaker started smoking bidi’s. We got curious and asked him if we could do so too. After some hesitation he gave us a bidi each which we both smoked. When we got home that evening, Mushtaq stared throwing up badly. Upon enquiries from the elders the secret of smoking bidis came out and we were both scolded thoroughly for doing so. Mushtaq was okey by the next morning. These experiences of spending time in different villages are so valuable in my life as they gave me a different perspective of life in remote areas of India at that early age. I still cherish those memories and experiences. After a couple of years of Mushtaq living with us, my mamu decided to move his family to Hyderabad just as our family was at that time. His family came and started living in one the sections of the devdi.

In the ‘devdi’ all the children (around twenty) and the adults were administered anti-cholera and anti-typhoid vaccinations every year by Hafiz mamu, Munir’s father, who was a pharmacist and ran a drug store, known there as a chemist & druggist store. Everyone walked around for two days with sore upper-arms due to the vaccinations. It did play a big role in keeping all of us healthy and safe from those diseases.

SCHOOL YEARS

Academics

Around age 5 I was admitted into a local public school where the medium of instruction was Urdu. I do not recall anything from that school as only after 3 months my uncle, Kareemuddin took me to the best school in Town, a catholic missionary school called All Saints High School and got me admitted into Kindergarten (called ‘Infant’ class). I did not know a thing about English at that time and during the first few days I saw the Principal (called Rector in the missionary lingua) who was called Brother John of God come to the class and talk to our teacher Ms. Clifford and say something about tomorrow. I kept wondering what he was saying about ‘tomorrow’ which I related to tumaro meaning yours in Urdu. After a few days when I learned what tomorrow meant, I chuckled to myself. Ms. Clifford was also a tenant in one of the units of a large property that my grandmother owned and which was only two blocks from the School. Ms. Clifford used to take me with her to her house after school and I would be picked up from there by our rickshaw person (Ismail sahib) and taken home. Being very shy and quite, I knew nothing about where our house was and where the school was, which were on opposite ends of town – the town was significantly smaller those days. One day the rickshaw man did not show up and Ms. Clifford had to hire a different rickshaw. I did not know what address to tell him and so told him the locality that I had heard people talk about. This was quite a ways from home. The rickshaw person took me to that locality and we both started enquiring about where our house was, without any luck. Fortunately, my mother’s uncle was passing from there on his bike and, seeing me, picked me up, paid the rickshaw puller, and took me home on his bike as a pillion rider – a big relief to my mother. In my kindergarten class it took me only a few weeks to learn what was there to learn and soon I got to the top of my class and at the end of the year I earned First Prize in English, Math and Hindi, all that was taught in that class. After coming home with