Baba Khaki Shah, who taught me the theory of justice

After completion of police training, my first posting was as In-charge of Mahatmaam Police Station City, Vihari District.

At the age of 22, after doing my MSc from Quaid-e-Azam University, Islamabad, I was recruited by the Punjab Public Service Commission, Punjab Police as a ‘Direct Inspector’ instead of a ‘Direct Havaldar’. Our batch was a special batch in many respects. Special arrangements were made by the Punjab Government to train us in investigation and public dealings.

An Officers Training Wing was built at Sahala Police College Rawalpindi for our batch at a cost of crores of rupees. ‘Model’ police stations were set up for us in every district of Punjab to bring about a change in the rotten police culture.

We had a passion for sticking to merit which was becoming stronger with time, so we made it clear to our subordinate officers and staff that if anyone found a miscarriage of justice in the investigation, disciplinary action would be taken against him. I will be brought.

In simple words, we were committed to the principle of ‘Zero Tolerance’.

Soon our reputation began to suffer. In order to break the internal support network of the criminal elements, we sent reports against a couple of subordinates to the higher officers, due to which they had to lose their postings.

Because most of the residents of the local police station were not familiar with my appearance, knowing it as a booty, I would often go to the market on foot in plain clothes in my spare time and buy daily essentials by myself. It was also in mind that the shopkeeper might be tempted to charge us a lower price after seeing the official police vehicle. The spirit of merit, justice and zero tolerance was getting stronger in me as much as I was receiving.

One day I often saw a Majzoob in the City Wahari Bazaar wearing only a black lingi-like Tahmad and ashes on his head. Then he appeared to walk around several times. Often there must have been a couple of dogs with him. People knew this Majzoob as Khaki Shah.

One day when I was returning home after buying some food items from the market, I saw the same Majzoob Khaki Shah talking to an unseen being by pointing his fingers in the air.

As I passed by, a voice stopped my feet, “Babuji!”

When I looked back, he was calling me towards him with a gesture of his hand

I turned back. When he greeted this Majzoob, he only said that ‘Babuji does not do justice.’ And walked away from there.

It was beyond my understanding. For a moment, I thought that maybe this person is a madman, otherwise we have been hearing and reading this till today that a person should always ensure the delivery of justice. Therefore, I listened to this Majzoob from one ear and dismissed it from the other ear

At night, when I lay on my bed, the same scene again began to circulate before my eyes. I was lost in thought why this Majzoob told me this. My curiosity was growing. Next morning I started inquiring various people in the bazaar about this Majzoob Khaki Shah.

An old shopkeeper said that he has been seeing this handsome Khaki Shah in the market of City Wahari for the last six to seven years. He said, ‘It neither asks for anything from anyone nor takes anything from anyone. He never had much conversation with anyone. Whether it’s cold or hot, it goes around in the same black cloak and in extreme cold at night, it lies down near the oven outside the hotel.

But one thing is certain that whenever it passes through the market, the surrounding dogs start walking with it. Did not understand this.’

I came back home after getting the preliminary information and then got involved in my routine life, but that story of Majzoob was stuck in my heart and mind like a knot.

One night around ten o’clock, while patrolling, I passed through City Wahari Bazar and a shop was open. Suddenly my eyes fell on Majzoob who was sitting leaning against the hotel oven and two dogs were sitting near him. After seeing it, the same thing started circulating in my mind. I was eager to meet this Majzoob so that I could inquire further and clear my confusion.

But when I saw myself, I postponed my immediate meeting because firstly I was in uniform and secondly because the official vehicle and staff were also with me. I finished the patrol in the next half hour and asked the driver to drop me home.

On my way home I changed my clothes and left for the market, the market was not far from my residence so I reached the market in few minutes.

By this time the market was almost closed, the watchman’s whistles could be heard in the distance and a random passer-by could be seen passing by. In the next few minutes, I had reached this hotel oven

Majzoob Khaki Shah was there but now he was in a semi-sleepy state with the same two dogs lying near him. I was worried that Majzoob might not be there, but seeing him there gave me some satisfaction. As I approached him, he opened his eyes and sat up straight and addressed me saying, ‘Ji Babuji, how did you come?’

I was waiting for him to address me. I asked permission to sit next to him

He smiled and pulled the cotton sack lying near the oven and said to me, ‘Babu ji, we have this chair, if you want to sit, sat bismillah.’

I thanked him and sat on the sack next to Majzoob. Waving his fingers in the air, Majzoob then started talking to an unseen creature.

I said, ‘Babaji, you stopped me that day and told me that you do not do justice.’

He immediately turned towards me and said in a harsh tone, ‘I forbade ‘strict justice’ and not ‘justice’.

I said, ‘Babaji, I’m sorry, I didn’t understand what you said.’

Majzoob said, ‘Jhilia, whoever is innocent is a sin, he has to be let go, but whoever is a sinner, they deal with concessions.’

Now my body was still. The inner idols were breaking one by one, I was crying like a child. My body was dead.

Majzoob went ahead and wiped my tears with the corner of his black cloak and patted me and said, ‘If you were not from Pak Patan Sharif, I would never have said this to you. Strict justice should be avoided, otherwise the servant cannot account for an ant that is carelessly crushed under his feet.’

Now that message was embedded in me. I got up and said, ‘Babaji, you are the servant of Allah, just pray for my forgiveness.’

Majzoob told me with a hand gesture, ‘Just go now.’

Coming back home, a strange satisfaction filled me, my thinking had changed.

After that I started reading the criminal justice systems of different countries of the world and I realized that the punishment system is designed for the reformation of people and society. All over the world, punishments are reformative so that the criminal who is mentally ill is rehabilitated and rehabilitated to become a useful citizen of the society. Penalties are merely punitive.

Not of nature.

This is why many disputes and conflicts can be resolved through dialogue after listening to both sides. As in earlier times, many matters were resolved through Panchayat.

After that, wherever I was posted, I tried my best to solve the minor conflicts reported in the police station through ‘community policing’ and I got many successes in this regard.

I tried to meet this Majzoob Khaki Shah several times during my posting at Thana City Vihari, but I could not meet him again. Then I got transferred from Vihari to Multan district

After about two years, I had to come to Wahari to testify in a trial. After recording the testimony in court, I had dinner with an old friend at a hotel in Wahari Bazar. After that I came to the shop of a barber Shafiq (to whom I often used to trim my hair and my children’s hair) in Wahari Bazar and asked him to set the hair.

Shafiq was very happy to see me after such a long time at Wahari Bazar. He felt that I might have been posted again in the same police station. I told him, ‘Brother, I have come here only for a case.’

The barber was a very good-natured boy. He cut my hair lovingly and in the meantime he had sent his assistant to fetch tea without asking me. After getting the hair set, when I started to leave, she said, ‘Sir tea is coming, I will not let you go without it.’

He said this with such love that I was forced to sit there. During this time, I kept asking him about the status of different people. Suddenly the thought of Baba Khaki Shah came to my mind. I asked Shafiq that ‘have you seen this Majzoob Khaki Shah anywhere?’

He said, ‘Baba passed away in December last year.’

When I asked for details, Shafiq said that he came to my bath in December. In his hand was a newly sewn suit of linen. He bathed for a long time in the bath, then he asked me to put a machine on his head, set his beard and right here in the bath he changed his clothes and gave me the phone number written on the empty cigarette box and said that this is his son. I should call him and ask him to come to this address and take him.’

‘Sir I called the PCO and reported this number and gave them the address of my shop. By evening, two large Land Cruiser vehicles had come to pick him up.

‘Sir, his name was not Khaki Shah. His son said his name was Seth Murad Hussain and he owned a garment factory in Faisalabad. which was now run by his sons. Baba Khaki Shah’s son had also given me his card and number and on the way he forcibly put five thousand rupees in my pocket, and while leaving he was saying, ‘My procession is coming, I have to go to my in-laws.’

About two months after Baba Khaki Shah went here, I went to Faisalabad and also visited the address of this factory. The sons of Baba Khaki Shah said that the night they took him home to Faisalabad, he died during the morning Tahajjud. I was listening to him in awe

I could understand which party and which in-law he was talking about.

No one knows what position that faqir occupied spiritually. But he was my benefactor, he guided me in time. Had it not been for meeting him, my view of police duties and justice would probably not be what it is now.