Aqa Moula knows the reason of Burglary of 500 gms Gold

In April 1988 – a few months after Huzurala visited Calcutta - mara ghar ma chori thayi gayi. The ladies of the house were away, we were engrossed in a television programme and the thief made away with nearly 500 gms of gold.

Our first reaction: Huzurala ma araz. His reply: maal mili jaase.

Months passed. No recovery. Tongues wagged. We tendered an araz again. Huzurala’s reply: Bhai ne kaho sabar kare; maal mili jaase. Bhai tasbeeh kare: ‘Hazaehi bidaa-atona ruddat ilaina’.

On 14 October, exactly six months after the theft to the day – something bizarre happened. Ek 22 waras no chokro hamaara baaju ni building ma Nooruddinbhai Chawala na dukan par aayo. He made some vague enquiries about some person he was trying to locate. Chawala kakaji’s first reaction was that this was just another somebody who needed to locate someone from Pollock Street. Chawala kakaji’s second reaction was more intuitive: he felt something was odd about this young man and immediately called me: ‘Mansurbhai jaldi aavo!’

I was there in a minute. We had no reason to suspect him; yet, we caught him by the collar and marched him to the residence of a senior police officer. Even my policeman friend felt I had been high-handed; I had picked someone innocent and dragged him for police inspection for no plausible reason.

He must have spoken to this boy for a few minutes and was on the verge of dispersing the meeting when he suddenly turned round and slapped this boy hard. We were shocked; later, the police officer told me that just when he was on the verge of telling me that I had made a mistake, he noticed a series of injection marks on the young man’s forearm. The police officer was backing his hunch: the young man was an addict and may – this was a stray assumption – have needed to thieve to fund his habit. The buy was questioned; he eventually broke down and confessed that he had indeed burgled my residence!

Like a garbage collector picking up a scrap that turns out to be the winning lottery ticket.

The confessions yielded an interesting sequence: the thieved jewellery was sold to an intermediary in Mehta Building (Ezra Street) for Rs 20,000, who, in turn, had sold the jewellery to a trader on Camac Street for Rs 50,000 – a sixth of the actual value. We followed the trail; the Camac Street jeweller confessed that he had bought the stuff (now transformed into gold) but would willingly return it.

Within three days, the gold was back with us. The policemen confessed that they had seldom come across a case like this. Hamein Aqa Maula ma araz keedhi to Moulana yeh farmayu ke bhai ne kehjo ke ehna waajebaat ma Rs 2700 kam hata aney aa rakam araz kari de!

Syedna Mohammed Burhanuddin Saheb works at a level that most of us will never be able to comprehend – drawing the thief to our doorstep, getting Nooruddinbhai to become intuitive and getting the police officer to look at the boy’s forearms.

If this had happened to someone else I would have never believed the story.


Dawoodi Bohras : Following interview of Mansurbhai Bartanwala, Calcutta, by Mudar Patherya:

Source: www.bohranet.com -- Read More Mojezas here

Will this pain ever end ?

WE WERE shifting house in Bangkok in 1997. I was responsible for the transfer. Carrying bags. Pulling out drawers. Carting material.

It must have been a big drawer full of hardware tools that triggered a sharp pain down my leg. The doctor pronounced: severe scoliosis of 35% in my upper frame caused by a major disc herniation of lumbars 4 and 5. Only medical intervention could resolve this.

It didn’t. As time passed, the pain grew worse. Deeper. Sharper. Longer. Nights would be sleepless; days painful.

Meanwhile, I became a victim for medical experimentation. Chinese massage. Acupuncture. Chiropractor adjustment. Ultra sound. Laser treatment. Physiotherapy exercise. Ozone injections in the disc. Yoga. You name it, I underwent it.

Defeated by every medical intervention across three years, I finally resolved to seek my final medical intervention.
Huzurala.

Huzurala was to attend a ziafat (in Singapore). Since it was almost maghrib we were specifically asked not to tender any araz. This was my dilemma …my last chance, directive for no araz, my last chance, directive for no araz.

Huzurala appeared. He walked towards where I stood. He walked past. Finally, I cried in anguish, "Maula! Hu Bangkok si aayo chhu, aney maney kamar ma bau dukhe chey! Bau problem chhey!" It was more the last plea of a drowning man than a formal araz.

Huzurala stopped, turned slightly in my direction, ‘saw me’ for about 10 seconds (eternity!), smiled and proceeded. This is what I felt: someone pouring water down my back.

The pain went away forever.

Dawoodi Bohras : Following interview of Ali Asgar Matcheswalla, Shareqa (UAE) by Mudar Patherya (Calcutta):

Source: www.bohranet.com

Dawoodi Bohras - Water from Desert ?

Around 1973, our family entered the business of textile processing in Karachi. Water represents the building block of this business. This qualification made the arid region of Karachi theoretically unsuitable for textile processing, unless if one enjoyed access to a robust municipal connection or one was sitting on top of an aquifer.
We enjoyed neither advantage. The municipal connection was not there; several factories in our neighborhood had dug deep wells, but there was just no ground water to justify the factory's presence in the vicinity.

The opinions were clear: scrap the project or move.

Eventually we recognized that only one power could resolve the problem. Huzurala. So we submitted a detailed araz with the plot's sketch, indicating where the factory building would be located, where the open area would be etcetera etcetera. The problem, we indicated, was the water. Where would we find it?
Huzurala took one look at the map and immediately thrust his finger on it. He was indicating where we should dig! Everyone was relieved, but that is when the story took an interesting twist. The person who had created the map realized that he had made a mistake...the north had been represented as south and the south as north! So someone said that in that case, we needed to flip the direction of the spot that
Huzurala had identified. Somebody else said that we shouldn't tamper with something we knew little about. So off we went toHuzurala yet again, this time looking a little sheepish and explaining that we had got our co-ordinates wrong and would he please make re-indicate where we should dig.

Huzurala - surprise of surprises - made no change. He thrust his finger on the same spot.

We dug. We struck fresh water within 25 feet. Our factory became a reality. And more than three decades later we still continue to draw water from a spot within a region that is generally dismissed as 'desert'!

Interview ends

Dawoodi Bohras : Following interview of Shaikh Abdulhusainbhai Harianawala (Karachi) by Mudar Patherya (Calcutta)

Source: www.bohranet.com

Maula Answers Every Mumin's araz

In 1976, when Huzurala came to Calcutta, I had gone for qadambosi during a ziyafat given by college students. My final medical examinaton was the following morning so when it was my turn, I did araz to Aqa Maula for dua. Just then Huzurala turned to speak to the Shehzadi Saheb standing alongside… my words were lost on Huzurala. The volunteers had thrust the next person in front; I was asked to move ahead and soon it was the end of a long-awaited turn. Soon there were dozens of others entreating Maula with their diverse requests.

Maula Answers Every Mumin's araz

I was ushered out beyond sound, beyond sight. I had blown my opportunity.

When something like this happens, you become superstitious. Was it a foreboding of poor examination performance? Was it a latent message on how my career would turn out?

Resigned, I sat at the thaal but would not eat. This thing kept spooling and unspooling in my head: maulana had not replied, maulana had not replied, maulana had not replied.

Suddenly, I noticed the Shehzadi saheb going from thaal to thaal and asking something. She came to ours. ‘Who was the medical student who had done araz for success in her final exam? Moulana yeh ehne yaad farmaya chhey’.

I rose. I was held by hand, the crowds parted, and suddenly I was in front of Maulana. I re-mumbled my araz. And wept. Maulana said, “Tamey rouchho sukaam?” And then, like a concerned father, he held the fingers of both my hands for seconds before pronouncing, “Khuda chaahse to tu safal thaase.”

It turned out to be a dua not only for the exam but for life. I passed the exam with ease; today I am a successful practising doctor in Kolkata.


Dawoodi Bohras : Following interview of Dr Sakina Putly, Calcutta, by Mudar Patherya

Source: www.bohranet.com

Al Ma'raz ul Burhani A Tribute to a Century of Greatness

Al-Ma'araz-ul-Burhani offers a unique opportunity to witness glimpses of spanning a century.

The Ma'araz came to life today when Aqa Maula (TUS) stepped into the precincts of Najam baug-Noor baug to inaugurate the exhibition. After spending more than two hours observing the photographs, records and artifacts in detail. Aqa Maula (TUS) said in appreciation, “Yahan Aawi ne dekhwoo joiye ek waar,” “Aa Ma’araz Burhani senkro aadmi, hazaro mumineen aawi ne dekhse.”

This exhibition is a humble tribute to our Maula whose benevolence has touched the lives of thousands across the globe.

To visit "Al-Ma'raz-ul-Burhani" register at www.ejamaat.com

Snapshots of Al-Ma'raz-ul-Burhani

Author of this Blog

Khuda ta'ala Aqa Moula TUS ni umar sharif ne ta roze qayamat sehat ane aafiyat ma daraz karey ane aap ni har ummid tamam karey (Aamin)