Journalism runs through my veins like blood, for as long as I can remember, this field intrigued me. This perhaps came from my father, Saeed Badar, who has given all his life, or I should say about more than half a century to this field. When I was barely 11, I wrote something and sent it to a popular children-magazine “Jugnoo”, and quite amazingly, it was published. This made the 11-year-old kid so happy, as if he were nominated for a Pulitzer. As a child craves for praise, I went and showed it to my father… who gave me not even a fake-compliment, rather only a cold stare. I understood him not, but neither did I had any reason to stop. From that day on, whenever I showed him any work of mine, I only received cold-stares and a lot of red circles, and never for once a compliment that I had expected. But I had no reason to be demotivated; all I had a clear goal in mind. Thus, I started writing regularly, and used to sent them to the children-page of different newspapers. And one way or another, they started getting published, more and more regularly… making me happy, evermore.
I was a science student, with literary blood, and a pen in hand to write anything. My father, later on in life unveiled to me the reason behind his coldness for my interest in journalism. And the reason was quite simple, induced by fatherly care, he didn’t wanted me to get in this field at all. And I reckon, we all can agree why a caring father would not want his future-engineer son, to get in the field of journalism… at all. Well, it couldn’t have been helped, as my interest in this field was not to a sane extent. When I used to hear people talk about our history, about wrong facts and flawed philosophies, I got baffled. More than anything else, I wanted these people to know the truth, to tell them how much our forefathers, and ancestors have done for us. As, for as long as I can remember, I used to spend days and nights in my father’s personal library, containing thousands of books. All I used to do, was to read… and when I got bored, I used to arrange the books properly in shelves. There, quite famous magazines like “Humayun”, “Adabi Dunya”, “Nayerng-e- Khayal” etc, were also present. Well, all those books on a hundred different genres stored in my mind induced in me a certain love for knowledge and wisdom, and to preach. My passion; Journalism and History, combined with all this wisdom armoured me to wage a war against the flawed and biased historical facts and perspectives. As to the weapon, I had a pen… that old Parker Vector in Indigo. All I needed was a platform… what could be better than being a journalist if I were to achieve my goal? The history of journalism is quite intriguing, though, while reading it, one finds oneself in a wonderland.
It is quite a trend here that we translate word-by-word the flawed history books written by western writers and use them to teach history to our young ones, and the same goes with the history of journalism. The young ones think that Muslim rulers were only occupied by slumber and never did a thing for the betterment of the people. Like if Shenshah Jalal-ud-din Muhammad Akbar, also known as Mughal-e-Azam was encaged by his Hindu-wives. Like if Shenshah Jehangir used to spend his days wandering around with a cup of wine, like if Shah Jehan was only constructing useless buildings and Aurenzaib was only converting non-muslims to Islam by force.
All these “facts” are in reality only factoids and utter lies. The so called intellectuals and pseudo historians of our country keep quoting Indian and western historians and don’t realise this simple fact that that these people are biased towards Muslims due to hate, and are afraid of muslims
Think for yourself, could a state, comprising of Pakistan, Afghanistan, India, Bangladesh, be governed by these lust-driven laical leaders? If they were literally this useless and lay, then I reckon angels used to descend from the heaven to wage their wars. And is this also then a fact that Mughal Era was not the most prospered era of all time?
Well, until 1707 when they were stabbed in the back by their own, any question to the worth of their ruling power is pointless. Syed Brothers led incompetent princes to the throne, while the competent ones were killed. In 1737 when Nadir Shah started a war, Nizam-ul-Mulk Asaf Jah gave him 20 crore to return, but Nawab of Awadh Sa’adat Khan told him that he should go to Delhi. We all know what happened next quite well… he stole all the wealth and went to Iran; The Peacock Throne, about 9 other thrones, jewellery worth of about 3 crore, Koh-i-Noor diamond, and about 60 crore rupees cash. Other than that, all the elephants and horses and the mint. After all this Mughal Empire was already razed, falling into the abysmal trench of treachery, when English, Portuguese, Hindu, Sikh, Merhatay… all played their roles well enough until 1857 when “the great Mughal Empire” was perhaps no more than a folklore.
The English took over the thousand year reign of Muslims and thus tried their best to snub them. Hindus, of course found new “true”, who gave them a change of ruling the subcontinent after a thousand years of slavery. That is exactly why Indra Gandhi said on the event of East-Pakistan separation:-
“We have avenged our thousand-years long slavery”
Perhaps, it is the responsibility of us, and no one else, to undo the wrong they have done. And the wrong is in the very perception of our citizens and youth. We think or perhaps I should say, we see by putting on the post-colonial lens handed over to us by the English. And that lens is specifically designed to snub us, and to humiliate and degrade us. When we see things from that lens, we find that a world where Heroes of the Muslim world are actually losers, that the Mughal Empire was an era of Barbarian rule, that the English have given us salvation and a roadmap to live, that Islam was spread by force and sword, etc. Along with time, my little passion of history and knowledge, first formed into a desire to preach the truth about our history, and then it formed into teaching, as many people as I can, the way to get rid of this lens that block their vision. To have their own thinking, and to see the truth themselves.
From the 11 year old with a magazine article to my name, I now have more than 60 books and countless articles and literary pieces. With the grace of God Almighty, I have tried to give as much as I have learnt, in every page ever written by me.