Mr. Khan

Today, I met an interesting man. Mr. Khan is 80 years old, looks 60 and talked to me like he was my age.

He saw me sitting by myself at an Onam sadhya and asked me to join him. “Making friends is easy” he said, “see, this is how”. For half an hour, we (mostly he) spoke about life, family, marriage, education, muslims and the country.

He comes from a family of farmers and timber merchants. Despite his parents wanting them to “stop wasting time on education”, he and his siblings all tried their best to get one. When he was pursuing a law degree, his father passed away in an accident and he had to take over the family business. “Some of my classmates went on to be chief justices” he said ruefully, “but I always knew I’d be a businessman”. “Why law?” I asked him “how would a law degree help you if you intended to be a business man?”. He laughed “Law teaches you how to handle everyday life. You engineers may think you know things but we can run circles around you. Over the years, the things I learnt in law college have been invaluable in business”.

“Where are you originally from?” he asked me. And on finding out I was a Kodava, reeled off names of his classmates from school, BCom and law, who he thought I’d know. I explained that without family names, one Kodava would never be able to identify another. “Yes, he said, but I’ve forgotten them”. I didn’t tell him that I find it hard to recall names of many in my family, much less friends.

“Did my phone ring?” his wife asked him, as she passed by. Like me, he carries his wife’s belongings at functions. She, a doctor, “was highly placed and I was only a businessman - we made it work. We’ve been married 47 years”. And the secret to a good marriage? “Learning to adjust, while being independent.”. He proudly told me how she had pursued a career of her own and for the last 22 years has been doing pro-bono work in the slums of Bangalore.

Being farmers, his family owned several tracts of land in Ramanagara and Bangalore - which they sold as the city developed. Some of the money they put back to use for the community. Zakat, a tradition many Muslims follow involves donating 2.5% of their wealth yearly. Members of his family decided to use Zakat to establish schools in poor communities. The first Al-ameen college began in their house. Now there are many branches throughout Bangalore. “Life has been good to us” he said “it is only fair that we give back”.

“Why education” I asked.

“Muslims are a vote bank. Govts, over several decades, have ensured our community remains uneducated. Education is the key.” He went on “In the fifties, I had a Hindu classmate who liked to complain that society was cruel. I asked him ‘Would you rather be me? I’ve studied the Mahabharata and the Ramayana. I can speak for hours on the concept of Karma. - but I’m a Muslim - I might as well have the word traitor tattooed on my forehead.’”.

30 minutes and several interesting topics later, as he got up to leave, he thanked me for my time and wished me well. As he said his goodbyes to our host, he told her: “Vivek and I are now friends. Do bring him over to my home the next time he visits.