THE JOURNEY TO BECOME A LAWYER

Now, I had two options; embrace journalism or enter the realm of law. At this juncture, I recalled Barrister Asghar’s advice and began to convince myself to practice law. A myriad of questions emerged in my mind: where shall I begin, how will I gather the resources, or find the place for my office? The ultimate question was: where will the clients come from? I put my trust in Allah, discussed the entire idea with Haroon-ur-Rashid and asked him to lend me Rs5,000. I had decided in advance to sell my PECHS plot, bought at a nominal cost, if I failed to repay him. I rented a small room on the first floor in Wazir Mansion, Nicol Road for Rs200, with Rs3,000 as pagri (guarantee). It wasn’t possible for a lawyer’s office to be run without a telephone, but acquiring a landline connection was equally difficult those days. An old friend of mine, Hafiz Ilyas provided the much-needed help being the personal assistant to Communications Minister Mr. Rameezuddin.

Ilyas took me to the minister’s office and conveyed the issue to him. Mr. Rameez was a Bengali and had difficulty speaking Urdu. He asked, “Where is your application,” and I handed a typed one to him. Without reading it, he wrote, “may be given,” on it. When I reached my office the next day, a demand notice for the installation was already there. The field of law was relatively new at the time and even the experienced ones were approached after due diligence, let alone a newbie. Syed Nazeer Ahmad, a friend of mine from Shahjahanpur’s village Eknaura and a civil contractor by profession brought me my first case. All he needed was a document, which I wrote within minutes, against a fee of Rs25. It wasn’t easy to work as an income tax lawyer. People would ask me to file a case so they could pay the lowest amount of tax. Some others would confuse tax with zakat and I would try my best to explain to them the difference. I would eventually refuse to counsel for those wanting to evade taxes.

I can tell based on my lifelong experience that people want to pay taxes just like they give zakat, but it continues to remain complicated on the government’s part, leaving room for the relevant officers and personnel to take undue advantage. They encourage citizens to evade tax in return for a bribe, costing the exchequer dearly. Pakistan, unfortunately, is among the countries with the least number of people paying income tax. The agricultural sector isn’t taxed and it is a common practice for businessmen to maintain two different types of accounts.

The income tax office was situated across Naz cinema on Bandar Road. I used to go to the office myself to file the returns. Days went by and President Iskandar Mirza imposed the first martial law in the country’s history on the night between October 7 and 8, 1958, and appointed Army Chief General Ayub Khan as the martial law administrator. But within 20 days, Khan toppled the same regime and sent Mirza first to Quetta and then to the UK. The martial law administration offered to lower the taxes and drop the penalty for those who hadn’t declared their income and expenses. Soon, cases poured in and set off an era of prosperity. As I progressed financially, I left Jacob lines and rented a house in Nazimabad number 2 for Rs216 a month. My mother and sister saw a girl at a gathering and told me that they had found a future spouse for me. They asked me to see her if I wanted to as per the permission under the Shariah. I had complete confidence in my mother and sister and so I decided to go ahead anyway. I was engaged to that girl a few days later.

My soon-to-be in-laws did the usual background check on me. January 16, 1960, marked a new beginning in my life and Tahira became a part of my life. She was the eldest among four sisters and two brothers. She embraced my family and treated my mother like hers. I remember feeling like my home had become a piece of the paradise! In the 50s, I lived in Jacob Lines close to Jamaat-e-Islami’s Iftikhar Ahmad (elected to Sindh Assembly in the elections of 1970) and Rajab Ali. Both of them lived in shacks behind my tent. Whenever we met, they would hand-over books and booklets authored by Maulana Maududi (RA). I had frequently heard that anyone who read his books is ‘brainwashed’ and becomes a maulvi. Taking it seriously, I would shelve those books without reading them. Whenever they asked if I had read them, I would respond in the affirmative. This went on for long. I lost contact with them after I left the area and moved to Block ‘F’, Nazimabad.

There, I came in contact with JI’s nazim (area in-charge) Mr. Siddiq who lived in Block ‘B’. Meanwhile, I used to visit the income tax building on a regular basis for work related to my office. One day, I was sitting in the bar room when I saw Mr. Yousuf, a staunch supporter of the Muslim League, reading a book. When I asked him what he was reading, he said, “This is such a strange book.” I took it from him and read some of it. It seemed really interesting. Observing my sudden interest, he told me that a man at a nearby shop had a lot of them and he offered huge discounts too. Without saying a word more, I began to walk towards the shop. I first bought the same book that Mr. Yousuf was reading. Then, I went on a buying spree with books worth Rs150 and read them all in a matter of a few days. When I saw Mr. Siddiq the next time, I immediately offered him to provide a space at my house for the organization’s programs. When the 1965 war began, Pakistan was being run by a martial law regime and Ayub Khan was the martial law administrator. When the war started, Ayub Khan addressed the nation on the radio vigorously and recited the kalima. The entire nation was brimming with the spirit of jihad and sacrificing their lives. Some of the shells fired by India landed in Kemari and Bihar Colony. A blackout would be in place at sunset. The trucks carrying military personnel were greeted with chants of praise and solidarity. The war continued for 17 days, and I couldn’t help but skip the office to listen to war updates. The nation’s morale would skyrocket every time Radio Pakistan relayed the news of destruction caused to the enemy’s tanks and personnel. My son Kaleem was born amid the war, at Liaquatabad Government Hospital. The state-run hospitals at the time were high-standard because the hiring was free of political or personal influence.

The struggle to acquire a piece of land and build a home for the first time is another tale in itself. In 1966, a little after the war, I bought plot E-47 in North Nazimabad’s block ‘F’ for Rs19,000 on installments from an acquaintance, a banker by profession. In terms of a house, I had always conceptualized it to be a smaller construction on a larger plot. The building code permitted the construction on one-third of the area. I spent Rs276,000 to erect the structure on a 600-square-yard area. In 1967, once the construction was complete, I rented out one of its portions. A doctor who ran a nearby clinic became my tenant. I carved out two rooms in the upper portion. Later on, Syed Munawar Hassan moved there after his house was sold as part of the inheritance distribution. He lived in the aforesaid portion for 10 years.

My wife was an expert at managing the home and children’s education, giving me the opportunity to regularly meet my JI associates and participate in the organization’s programs.On March 26, 1969, Ayub Khan resigned as a result of the ongoing unrest and public pressure. He chose to hand-over power to the Commander-in-Chief Yahya Khan, not the Speaker. In his speech broadcast on November 28, Yahya Khan announced that the general elections had been scheduled for October 3, 1970.