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About the Life And Work of the Author




               Noor Inayat Khan was born on the first day of 1914 in Moscow. Hazrat Inayat
          Khan, her father, a brilliant Indian musician and philosopher, had travelled to the
          capital of Russia on his life mission, with his family. It was a time of agitation, the
          eve of the Revolution, and he was advised to leave the country. The day of their
          departure a crowd began to erect barricades, and so they could not pursue. While
         the excited crowd began to gather around their sledge, Inayat Khan took little Noor
         from the protecting arms of his wife, and raised the infant high up. The image was
          impressive: This majestic man, holding his little daughter high up in the air - the
          crowd turned silent and respectful, finally they let the young family pass.


               Noor was the eldest of four children, her mother a young American, Ora Ray
          Baker, whom Inayat Khan had met in San Francisco. The family lived in London during
         World War I, in poor conditions; later they moved to Suresnes, in the neighbour-
          hood of Paris, where all four children lived their childhood, school and study years.

               Noor was an intelligent girl, fine and dreamy. She loved her parents much, was
          ready to serve and most caring towards her two brothers and her sister. She was
          of old kingly blood, great-great-grandniece of Tipu Sultan, the 'Tiger of Mysore',
          and she livened up hearing stories which would describe the best human characte-
          ristics. Her father was a living example of extraordinary idealism, poetic and musical
          expression and soon these same traits began to show in her, in Vilayat, Hidayat and
          Khairunisa.

               Her mother wrote, among many other poems (collected under the title “Ro-
         sary of a Hundred Beads“) birthday verses for all of her children; Noor, with her
         great talent for language, rhythm and music, took up this tradition; she was eleven
         when she wrote this poem, in French.

                                       Modeste et honnête
                                        Jolie petite violette
                                    Qui jette son beau parfum
                                       Dans mon petit jardin.


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