Farewell to a passionate soul
We have lost one of the most beloved and selfless visionaries. Madame Kulsum Hajni, widely known as Badi Madame, has left for her heavenly abode, leaving behind a legacy carved in ink, chalk, and selfless service.
Born in Sopore, she migrated to the HMT area of Srinagar in the early 90s, at a time when the concept of private education was limited to a handful of institutions. But for Badi Madam, education was never a privilege, it was a right.
She ensured the doors of learning were open to all, including the underprivileged so that the poorest children had a classroom to sit in, books to read, and dreams to chase.
She was a reformist, a philanthropist, and a mother to countless children who owe their success to her unwavering dedication.
Her school was not just a building, it was a sanctuary where broken dreams were mended, where orphans found solace, and where children who had no means to pay were never turned away. She didn’t build an institution, she built a movement—one that will echo for generations to come.
The journey wasn’t easy. She started her school with just 11 students in a small, modest setup. In those early days, she was the form teacher, the principal, the chairperson, and the instructor of every subject. She would painstakingly teach English word by word, ensuring that no child felt left behind.
Badi Madame strongly believed that fluency in English was a gateway to confidence and success. She encouraged her students to converse in English, breaking barriers of hesitation and self-doubt.
She built not just a school but a sanctuary of learning, where no child was denied admission based on their economic status.
Badi Madame was particularly sympathetic towards girls, understanding the challenges they faced in society. She saw education as their shield and weapon and always urged them to pursue knowledge while upholding their Islamic values.
In most of her assembly addresses, she would often remind girls of their dignity, modesty, and the importance of character. “Seek knowledge, but never lose your values,” she would say. She would always ask girls to walk with both wisdom and grace.
She was a mother figure to them. Many young girls, who might have been forced to drop out due to financial hardships or cultural barriers, found hope in her words and strength in her presence.
Her kindness and sympathy were boundless, her spirit unbreakable. She walked through the lanes of HMT and beyond to ensure every child had the opportunity to read, write, and become something more than what fate had written for them.
She did not seek recognition, she only sought change.
Meanwhile, as the news of her passing spreads, tears well up in the eyes of those whose lives she touched. Her students, now doctors, engineers, teachers, and leaders, mourn a mother they never knew they had.
The classrooms she filled with hope and dreams feel emptier today, the streets she walked seem quieter.
But Badi Madame did not leave us in darkness—she left behind a flame that will never die. It burns in the hearts of every child she educated, every life she uplifted, and every family she gave hope to.
Rest in peace, Badi Madame. We will never forget you.
Author is Sub-Editor at
Greater Kashmir