As I sat on the main deck of SS Varela, on my way from Bombay to Lahore, my teenage thoughts were naturally focused on the new country — and the new city, Lahore. I had picked up much about the Quaid and the idea of Pakistan from my elders and through the lively columns of The Times of India and The Bombay Chronicle. As the day of Partition drew near,
the Muslim community of Bombay was caught in a surge of excitement. Thousands of League flags fluttered in the breeze in the Muslim enclave around Muhammad Ali Road and Crawford Market. My father, who was a Railways employee and posted at the Victoria Terminus in Bombay, had opted to serve in the new state of Pakistan. That is how I found myself in Lahore at the age of seventeen.
I had the honour of being admitted to the Government College (GC) in 1948 by Principal Ahmed Shah Bokhari, known in the annals of literature as Patras Bokhari. When I entered the portals of this magnificent edifice for the first time,
I stood in awe of its massive Gothic structure, huge columns, pointed arches and, of course, its lofty clock tower. Little did I know at the time that I would spend the best part of my life pacing through its dim corridors, spacious verandahs, stately lawns and in treading the silvery slope leading to the renowned seat of higher learning.
When Professor Ahmed Shah Bokhari took over as Principal of GC in 1947, the city of Lahore was in the grip of communal violence. With the migration of non-Muslim professors, the teaching staff of the college was reduced to a dozen or so. The student population had dwindled to nearly 100. Professor Bokhari faced an uphill task. By 1948 — the year I joined — the figure rose to 600.
I had the honour of studying in GC for six years, teaching in GC for 34 years, serving as Vice Principal for seven years and retiring from GC in 1991.
