This would have been Abi's 111th birthday.
He died on September 19th, 1963
(just a few days before my 23rd birthday.)
All that I do well today has to do with him.
(All the bad points are my own.)
A congressman in India, he came to Pakistan hoping to go back soon.
We never did!
His arguments were generally difficult to beat,
except as he got more and more religious from 1953 onwards
(based on his failed ideology and constantly failing health.)
He was a Doctor, a music lover, a prose-writer, a poet.
Prior to coming to Pakistan he was
Secretary of the Aligarh Muslim University Old Boys Association
and
Secretary of Anjumané Taraqqié Urdu.
He was taken into the British Army's Medical Mission
during World War II
and resigned in 1947 after coming to Pakistan (as Major).
His written collection of essays, short stories, and a playlet
appeared as 'Naee Paud' in 1939 —
and parts of it (and some of his poetry) will come out this year.
(sent in by my cousin Ali Minai.)
He had a sense of humour that I adored.
In Shafiqur Rahman Chacha's 'Lahrayñ'
you can see a piece that mentions him and some of his verses.
You can also read a bit about him in Iqbal Ismail's
'Footprints in the Sand'.
2 Comments:
May God bless his soul...
Remember following from one of your blogs....
Do dushmanoñ meñ aaj, Khuda khaer hee karay,
Voh sülah chi∂ gaee hae keh sad-rashké-jang hae
12 April, 2011 22:28
Zakintosh, what a lovely tribute. Whenever you talk or write about your Abi, I feel regret at not having been able to meet him. I really hope his works are published this year. I know you still miss him so. Big Hugs!
13 April, 2011 18:09
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