I lost two of my dearest friends and the city where I live lost two of its most remarkable citizens during this month. After moving to Islamabad some fourteen years ago, two of the most endearing, warm, affable and affectionate people I came to know are no more in this world. Rest in peace my friends Zahid Elahi and Shayan Poppy Afzal Khan. Zahid Elahi worked as governance and public policy expert, social development advisor, project manager and was also a dynamic entrepreneur. He crashed his car on one of those foggy, callous nights in the capital earlier in the month and died on the spot. Shayan Afzal Khan, who was known more from her nickname ‘Poppy’, passed away in London the other day. A formidable woman who wrote, spoke and acted in favour of the weak and the dispossessed, the wretched and the condemned, the women and the minorities, Poppy lived a short but full life. She braved an acute form of cancer for years. The two of them, Poppy and Zahid, are unrelated otherwise but what I find common between them besides my own deeply personal relationships was their immense zest for life in their own different ways, their selfless support to people around them, their desire to see Pakistan prosper as a state and society, and their dying at such an early age. Zahid Elahi and I never lost touch since we first met about twelve years ago. He hailed from Peshawar but made Islamabad his home. He was my neighbour for a couple of years as well. He wouldn’t make it known to all but I had soon found out that Zahid had a penchant for poetry and a desire to influence politics. He was a huge fan of Habib Jalib and related stories about the time spent with the fiery poet when Zahid lived there or would visit Lahore. He and I used to have charged political debates, agreements and disagreements, divergence of views and opinions whenever we met. When we were neighbours, Zahid would come every other day for a short while, spend some time discussing work or politics and offering me sound professional advice. He was a delightful host and not only entertained friends like me but extended his hospitality to friends of friends, acquaintances, colleagues and people at large. Besides his normal residence, Zahid had tastefully set up a chalet on top of a hill and would invite friends and their families to sumptuous lunches and dinners. Zahid never flinched from supporting his friends or colleagues – emotionally, morally, financially or otherwise. He would promote his buddies in whichever way possible and would go out of his way not only for them but to honour their word if they would commit something to somebody in Zahid’s name. When it came to him and his family to ask for a favour, I found him to be completely different. Once we had a job opening at the organisation where I worked. He had mentioned in passing that his sister was one of the candidates. She was selected purely on merit and worked there for about a year. Zahid and I met almost regularly during that period but she was never mentioned in our conversation except on one occasion. After seven or eight months of her working there, Zahid asked me that he hoped the appointment was made on merit and that she was working well. My dear friend Poppy came to live in Islamabad after having lived abroad for quite some years. Her most significant contribution was founding ‘Kuch Khaas’, an independent art and cultural centre in Islamabad upon her return. The way she enriched the cultural life of Islamabad by establishing Kuch Khaas is incomparable to any such initiative ever taken before by anyone in this city. The otherwise largely intellectually barren, politically lopsided and culturally challenged city dominated by glorified clerks comprising superannuated bureaucrats, retired military officers, decadent businessmen and its public spaces infested with philistine women, was thoroughly shaken up by Poppy’s inventiveness. She created a space for the young and old alike who would come together to pursue, enjoy and create art, music, drama and literature, etc with freedom from any political pressure or social censorship. There are other institutions in Islamabad like the Pakistan Academy of Letters, Lok Virsa and Pakistan National Council of the Arts, etc. Undoubtedly, they contribute to the cultural scene when a good person gets arbitrarily appointed by the government. But they all remain state institutions at the end of the day with seen and unseen restrictions and constraints. In the private space developed by the citizens, there are amazing art galleries like Nomad, Khaas, Gallerie 6, etc and some friends did take initiatives in the past like that of establishing cafés like Civil Junction. But what Poppy created became the only comprehensive, vibrant and fully fledged cultural space for the people of Islamabad. From regular music performances to book launches, debates and discussions, dialogues and seminars, courses for children and young people, music jam sessions and squares where new talent in art and music comes to the fore, organic food markets – what was it that was not part of the place she established. Till Poppy was in Islamabad, many civil rights campaigns and civil society actions were organised in Poppy’s office in Kuch Khaas. Although her family largely came from northern Pakistan, she had spent her childhood and school years in Karachi, many of her friends were Karachiites and she identified strongly with the city. We found out that there was a chain of common friends and associates which linked us. But we became instant friends after she read my poems written about the shared godforsaken city of ours which we both loved from our childhoods. Then for quite some time, until she left Pakistan for continuous treatment abroad, I helped her organise literary events, dialogues, poetry readings and book launches at Kuch Khaas. Poppy was a deeply religious woman with a resolute faith in God. Her sense of giving and love for humanity were decidedly linked to her faith. She was a Muslim feminist and did phenomenal work on Muslim women during her time in Malaysia. The book came out some years ago. She believed in emancipation of women anywhere but had an intense desire to bring Muslim women at par with the rest of the world. She was not simply a bleeding heart liberal. Poppy believed in a progressive Pakistan where all citizens, irrespective of their caste, faith, ethnicity or sex, are treated justly and equally. She campaigned relentlessly for the weak and the minorities in our society. I remember when Salmaan Taseer was assassinated after professing support to a poor Christian peasant woman, Aasiya Bibi, who was charged for blasphemy, Poppy was among the few who had the courage to come out and declare that the man was wrongly killed and the murder committed in the name of our faith had little to do with our faith. She was one of the main organisers of the memorial event held on Taseer’s chehlum in Islamabad. In the true tradition of artists and mystics, her faith in God made her faith in humanity unwavering. She was inclusive and plural to the hilt. She said a couple of years ago that there is no point in worrying about something we have no control over. Anyone can die any time – who knows when or how. She said that her ailment had made it easier for her to sift out negative emotions and bring her closer to God. “Being forced to face my mortality has made life even more worth living”, said Poppy. The writer is a poet and authorbased in Islamabad. Email: harris.khalique@gmail.com
