A bit of Eid day remembrance

Pakistanis have been confronted with too many crises in recent years to be left harbouring any thoughts of leading what would be called a usual, normal life with its everyday special events.

I recall how an acquaintance once said that he had stopped nursing the plants in his little lawn because his sole concern at that time was whether he and his close ones would survive the reign of terror let loose on them by militants brandishing their own code of living. It was not rare to come across similar sentiments expressed by others during that horror ‘phase’ and this was not too long ago.

Since then we have had to contend with a whole series of ‘dark phases’ with the result that we have stopped being ourselves while experiencing certain aspects of our everyday life. Dazed by a medley of terror and dharnas, the benumbing and scary Covid-19 and the most demoralizing and divisive constitutional crisis, apart from our fights against the more ‘normal’ and constant devils such as corruption and inflation and misgovernance, do we celebrate occasions as we once did? The intensity of it all sucks you in as previously did the political confrontation and the epidemic.

If only the honourable and less honourable parties to the current constitutional standoff could agree on an Eid ceasefire with a ban on all these current affairs discussions in the tradition of the old warring rivals. A time-off and an escape from this madness is needed to allow us an Eid reprieve.

Since survival is the objective here, there is of course another way through this. Through all these years on the edge, we have learnt that celebrations are something of a luxury that can be put off indefinitely until the ‘crisis’ is over. But what do we do with certain other events that cannot be postponed and have to be participated in willy-nilly? Such as the final farewells of those who we loved.

These crises and emergencies that we constantly find ourselves in have lent haste to the manner in which we send off those we admire and love from this mortal world. Only recently, we lost our teacher Masoodullah Khan, who was a giant among those who inspired aspiring journalists. Some of us did consider it necessary to pay tribute to him but somehow it seemed a lot that could have been said about the man was lost because we no longer followed that tradition where an outstanding individual’s departure necessitated a certain kind of a pause which in turn encouraged those badly wanting to pay respect to the departed soul for their own sake.

Whatever was recalled about Khan Sahab, who had worked with such big publications as The Pakistan Times, The News and Dawn besides performing the most difficult role of editing a newspaper in journalistically-barren Kuwait, it felt as if we were all too concerned about doing the ritual and move to the next item on the itinerary. There were one or two writeups by his peers but these unfortunately fell well short of a much-desired reasonable life sketch about someone who was equally liked as a college teacher and journalist by or with the aid of someone who knew him closely through his various phases in life.

This could have been perhaps a reason for why we fell short of paying befitting homage to a life well spent; so many of those who could speak about the qualities of Masoodullah Khan had preceded him in making an exit from this world. Indeed the gap between an extraordinary individual whose life is being highlighted and those left behind to remember him is so great that observing silence instead often appears to be a better option.

It is the kind of feeling which overpowered an old admirer as we tried to, in our usual hasty frantic manner, pay our last respects to a true maestro named Zia Mohyeddin some time ago. It was as if all voices which could comment on this outstanding voice had already gone out of the system. There were attempts to heap platitudes on Zia Sahab, but blame it on a bout of depression if you must, by and large, it felt as if we had moved on from the moment of reflection and respect-paying all too fast.

Personally, a similar sense of loss prevailed as we tried to say our final goodbye to Muhammad Qavi Khan recently – that the top-drawer actor’s final moment had come at a distance from home adding to the un-realness of it all. The paucity of the angles seeking to truly bring the dynamic life of the actor blessed with brilliant skills were all the more remarkable in this case since here we were talking about the practitioner of a popular art form, a true showbiz star. Again, it ended in a flash.

Apparently the ultimate compliment we found him to be deserving of was when so many amongst us remembered him for his role as a police officer in a play from the 1980s, an individual reformer, making his entry to ultimately provide relief. This must have resonated well with the aspirations of the followers of the current saviour just as it was a powerful symbol of our benevolent benefactor then. The celebrations about many other Qavi Khans including the one who wanted to make a difference as a filmmaker can wait until better times.

The writer is a senior journalist.