SANJAY PANDITA
In the rich lineage of intellectuals that Kashmir has produced, few names resonate with quiet brilliance and humble distinction as that of Mohamad Amin. Born on 2nd December 1942 in the culturally vibrant locality of Bohri Kadal, Srinagar, his life journey defied conventional patterns and he wrote the very grammar of what it means to be a self-made scholar. From the outset, his education was marked not by formal classrooms but by the rigour and intimacy of home-based learning—under the scholarly guidance of his father, himself a man of formidable intellect and nonconformist values.
Young Amin never walked the corridors of a school. His father, a mentor in the truest sense, nurtured his son’s intellect through a discipline rooted in reflection, reading, and reverence for language. Immersed from an
early age in classical urdu literature—
the works of Ghalib ,Momin,Iqbal, Deputy Nazir Ahmed,Hali ,Rashidul Khairi ,Mirza Hadi Ruswa and a glaxy of Persian authors – Sa’di and Hafiz —Amin’s mind blossomed in silence and solitude. In 1958, he appeared for the Matriculation Examination as a private candidate, and secured First Division —an astounding feat for someone untouched by the formal school system. This singular academic triumph marked the beginning of a lifelong journey defined by brilliance and perseverance.
His pursuit of excellence continued unabated. The following year, he appeared in the Adeeb Fazil examination in Urdu—a prestigious milestone in classical language studies—and secured the third position in the merit list. Once again, as a private candidate, he broke the mould and demonstrated that neither institutions nor conventional instruction are prerequisites for learning .
His creative genius soon began to shimmer through. In a nationwide literary contest organized by Khilauna, a popular Delhi-based magazine for children, Amin’s entry stood out among 3500 submissions, securing the first prize and a cash reward of twenty-five rupees. It was an affirmation of his imaginative range and his masterful command over expression.
In Amin’s own words, the event made him feel as though he had “come out of oblivion into broad sunshine.”
With Adeeb Fazil and other distinctions to his credit, he was appointed a teacher at The Oriental College, Srinagar, in 1960.
Meanwhile, he prepared for his F.A. (Faculty of Arts) examination in a mere two and a half months—studying History, Civics, Urdu, Persian, and English—and passed with second position in the arts stream . Again, without enrolling in any formal institution, he had walked past yet another academic milestone.
He moved on to prepare for B.A., opting for General English, English Literature, Urdu, and Persian—once more as a private candidate. His performance was nothing short of remarkable; he secured the second position in the Arts stream .
This ascent reached a new summit when he was admitted as a regular student to the Department of English of the- then Jammu and Kashmir University . He topped the list of selected candidates and was awarded the prestigious National Scholarship of one hundred rupees per month—a symbolic victory for a scholar who had carved his own path.
He continued to excel, securing the second position in his M.A. In 1965, with a Master’s Degree in hand, he was appointed as an adhoc lecturer at the Govt. Degree College,Anantnag . A year later, he appeared for an interview for a permanent lecturer’s post, topped the merit list, and was appointed Lecturer formally. He taught at the Anantnag College for over six years before being transferred to Amar Singh College, where he taught until 1976. He then moved to the Degree College,Bemina and remained there till 1978.
It was around this time that fate and friendship steered him towards the University of Kashmir – this time as a teacher .A close friend encouraged him to apply for a
lectureship in the Department of English. Heeding the advice of his friend willy- nilly ,
he sent in his application and then appeared for an interview for the post of lecturer. The result was both expected and deserved—his name appeared among the selected candidates, and in March 1979, he joined the Department .
In a faculty populated with Ph.D. holders, Amin stood out—not for what he lacked, but for the quiet depth of what he possessed. He never pursued a doctorate. When gently urged to do so, his self-effacing reply was, “I lack originality. I am not capable of writing a Ph.D. thesis .I was born with a writer’s block.”
Behind this humanity was a profound authenticity and a rejection of the performative rituals that often dominate academia. For him, the essence of scholarship was not in degrees but in engagement, sincerity, and dedication.
Amin would often say with wry humour, “I am M.A. with an M.A.—that is, Mohamad Amin… M.A.” It was a jest that concealed a deeper truth: his knowledge, insight, and pedagogical brilliance far outshone the weight of formal titles. What he lacked in ornamental qualifications, he more than compensated for through his unmatched teaching style. His classes transformed the opaque into the luminous. Complex literary theories, subtlety and nuances of literature and abstract ideas—all became lucid and engaging through the alchemy of his words and the cadence of his voice.
His classrooms brimmed not with fear or hierarchy, but with a warmth that encouraged inquiry and fostered love of literature.
His lectures on Greek Drama,Elizebethan Drama and Modern Drama and on Literally Criticism were particularly felicitous There was a rare glow in his engagement with texts—he unveiled meanings yet respected mystery, illuminated without exhausting interpretation. Students gravitated toward him not because of institutional authority, but because he embodied literature itself—sensitive, intuitive, layered, and humane.
Within the department, Amin’s stature was built not on power but on reverence. He was cherished not merely for what he taught, but for how he made others feel about learning. His classes gave timid voices confidence, turned obfuscation into clarity, and allowed students to feel the living pulse of literature. He was, in the truest sense, a teacher—one who opened doors and lit paths, without ever seeking applause.
He retired as a Reader in 2003, but retirement was merely a change of designation—not of passion. For twelve more years, he taught at the Postgraduate Department of English, Govt . College for women and later for over a year at the Central University of Kashmir. His legacy continued to grow—not in institutional accolades, but in the minds of students he mentored and inspired.
Amin’s contributions were not confined to the classroom. He was a prolific translator who built bridges between languages and cultures. His magnum opus, a six-hundred-page English translation of Atish-e-Chinar (the Blazing Chinar )the autobiography of Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah, is remarkable .Equally compelling was his English rendering of the 99 shrukhs of Shaikh-ul-Alam, one of Kashmir’s greatest mystic voices.
His literary sensitivity also reached into contemporary Kashmiri literature. He translated poems by iconic writers such as Rehman Rahi and Naseem Shafaie and short stories by Amin Kamil, Akhtar Mohiuddin, and Hari Krishen Koul—making their voices accessible to non-Kashmiri readers and expanding the scope of regional literature. His translation of Zakhiratul-Mulook, a theological work by Shah-e-Hamadan, mirrored linguistic precision.
Amin was also a silent mentor to many aspiring researchers. Several M.Phil.and Phd . theses bear the subtle influence of his corrections, advice, and encouragement. He extended his wisdom generously, guided with patience, and remained true to the ethics of honest scholarship.
In an era increasingly seduced by titles, citations, and credentials, Mohamad Amin stands as a radiant contradiction. He did not chase recognition, yet inspired reverence. He did not publish extensively, yet his words remain etched in the memory of generations. From the modest rooms of Bohri Kadal to the distinguished corridors of Kashmir University, from self-taught student to literary sage, his life affirms a timeless truth: real education is born not in buildings but in the mind—it lives in love, discipline, and the courage to learn independently.
Today, as we remember this remarkable teacher, we do so not merely to celebrate his achievements, but to honour the spirit of intellectual freedom he embodied. In Mohamad Amin, we find a scholar who was schooled by his father and by himself—and in doing so, educated us all.
The writer can be reached at sanjaypanditasp@gmail.com
