Breaking that mould with a bang was the late Ardeshir Cowasjee — a man of means who was also a man of letters, and who gave of himself in both cash and column inches, till the end of his days. A son of Karachi’s kindest Parsi families, Bhutto’s nationalisation meant that Cowasjee the shipping baron became Cowasjee the columnist, and for that we are thankful. “For by cutting the ties that bindeth,” Ayaz Amir pointed out, “it turned him into the liberated and irreverent soul we remember today.”
So started a career that began with the odd Letter to the Editor in the ’80s and ended with one last column on the Quaid’s 135th birthday in 2011: “Now, old at 85, tired and disillusioned with a country that just cannot pull itself together in any way … I have decided to call it a day.” Ardeshir Cowasjee passed away less than a year later, but not before agreeing with the LSE’s Bernard Levin, “Bakers bake bread every morning, it is consumed, digested and forgotten. So it is with our daily columns.”
For once, he was wrong; Cowasjee looms larger than life even today. He swore like a sailor (albeit a sailor that owned his ships) in the faces of the rich and famous. He kept Jack Russell Terriers and cats and cockatoos. He wore cotton shorts to other people’s offices, but was seen in suits and hats when driving his convertible.
And in a sea of dull newsprint, Cowasjee’s Sunday columns were colour-bursts of profane, high-octane anger. As one profiler remarked, he told stories “like Scheherazade would. There’s no beginning; no end … but everything in his space and everyone he knows — and he knows almost everyone — has a story.” Each story had its own cast of characters, from slumlords to senators, set in a Pakistan just crazy enough to see better days.
His writing ached with three themes: condemning the corrupt, saving Karachi, and rescuing Jinnah from the country he created. But that was the tip of the iceberg — what made Ardeshir a great among the good was pure range. He could rescue the Murree Hills in one column, chase the Chaudhrys of Gujrat in the next, draw lessons from the Persian Empire in the third, name and shame qabza mobs in a fourth, and quote the Quaid in all.
An old world liberal — far removed from today’s society magazine Gollums — Cowasjee was an activist aware of explosions in the distance. Knowing “what they pay me wouldn’t even buy this tie”, Cowasjee helped along young journalists, besides giving to hospitals, giving to charities, and giving to college students. Good works done in silence by the Cowasjee Foundation warmed his columns with a humanity he tried hard to conceal. He’d tell any starry-eyed kid he found to zinda bhaag, never acting on his own advice.
And he fought like a jealous husband for Karachi’s trees, parks and playgrounds, a civic passion from times past. Developers planning to build “12-storey monstrosities” would ask after ‘his health’, knowing Cowasjee would come thundering after them with court stays. It was a recipe for making enemies, but Cowasjee shrugged, “People here don’t believe in finesse. If they want you killed, they’ll cut you up and stuff you in a gunny sack.”
“Still,” he offered, “I could be shot on my way out today.” That never happened, and opinion’s Grand Old Man passed away aged 86, celebrated by the same state he gave a 22-year-long kicking. In testament to the lives he moved, the president himself paid tribute to Cowasjee’s “services to journalism”. While signing his name to those words, Asif Zardari, no stranger to the departed’s pen (“the worst of them all” and “chor, chor, chor!” among other titles), must have smiled.
Cowasjee’s run-ins with authority while alive ranged from the hilarious — dissuading Shahbaz Sharif from taking up Dr Israr on banking laws — to the heart-twisting: his 75-year-old father writing letter after letter to “Most Respected Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto Mehrban”, begging his son be released from jail. Bhutto relented on Day 71, forgiving Cowasjee for crimes unknown. His home secretary, a gentle being called Junejo, had Prisoner Cowasjee scrawl an apology first.
He wasn’t repenting long. If the press ever gave out a political correctness award, Cowasjee would never be in contention for it: the man just didn’t care. Each government will be worse than the last, the Quaid once told his father, and Cowasjee was contemptuous of each (barring a soft corner for Musharraf’s diet enlightenment).
Today, we have Tyaba Habib to thank for compiling Vintage Cowasjee, a wonderful ‘Best Of’ — but also one long saga of decline not for the easily heartsick. And to go to the source, we are nothing less than privileged to be reading Amina Jilani in these pages, whom Cowasjee said “used to fix my Parsi-school English”.
To close with a column from 1992, Cowasjee remembered his late father Rustom in words more telling now that both are gone: “He did much (philanthropy), always as anonymously as possible. He did not feel it necessary to suffer fools — thus gaining a reputation for being a difficult man who never ever minced a word… so sure of himself and his God that he could afford a healthy contempt for popularity. When his eyes closed for the last time, on his behest they were removed, and his corneas transplanted into the eyes of two blind men of Pakistan.”
Not a single sentence feels out of place describing his son, who lent his eyes to generations of blind Pakistanis week after week. It was one year ago next month that Pakistan lost a great man. But as hideous condos tear apart Cowasjee’s own Mary Road, Karachi may have lost its conscience.
Published in The Express Tribune, October 15th, 2013.
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COMMENTS (25)
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lovely memories of a great writer resonated again, thank you Diary of a wimpy kid, it was surely a treat remembering Cowasjee.
Beautiful tribute to a great man. Hope the new generation of budding journalists are inspired by Sir Cowasjee! These are the kind of Pakistanis we need for a better today and tomorrow.
That was one of the best eulogies I have read on Ardeshir Cowasjee. There are few people who can or could ' talk truth to power ' ..........and Ardeshir Cowasjee was one such man.
Cowasjee!! What a man!! Sir, we miss you, terribly. May your soul rest in peace. Loads of love.
O' there's no doubt, at least not in, my mind that Mr Cowasjee was a great Pakistani and Pakistan must be proud of him. One of the greatest services, among many, Mr Ardeshir Cowasjee did, us all, is his courage to speak out against the corruption and crimes of high and mighty here, and inspired a whole lot of younger Pakistanis to emulate his guts and sense of responsibility and courage to attempt righting the wrongs. Asad wrote well about him and his character and I'm sure Mr Cowasjee would have liked it.
Sigh ... Kahan gayee woh log - Where have all those people gone ?
Ardeshir's columns not only satisfied the Pakistani public, but here in South Africa he also had a fan who would read his articles regularly. Rest in peace BROTHER!
For my young friend Asad, my thanks for a wonderful column remembering an outstanding citizen of Pakistan. It gives me great joy to know that Ardeshir is still remembered by the youth of his country. Was deeply touched - you could not have written better.
A brave man who could see into the eyes of a civilian dictator Zulfikar Ali Bhutto.
My only disagreement with Cowasjee was that he seemed to support military dictatorships. He should have had the vision to see that while adventurist generals can bring short-term gains, lasting peace and prosperity has always come in the world through wise civilians. Given our current lot of kleptocratic and dwarf civilian rulers his skepticism of this axiom was undertstandable, but still he should not have thrown in his lot with Zia and Musharraf.
brilliant piece, and a great ode to a great man. i feel privileged to have met him.
I am reminded of a line from his column he wrote after Musharaf's coup, about the deposed Prime Minister---The most foolish Prime Minister of Pakistan who handed the govrnment to a General on platter.Ardisher is not with us today.I wonder how would he react to the current scene if he were alive today.
Ardeshir sahib was always a must read even on those rare occasions when I may not have fully agreed and quite frankly the only reason to read a newspaper in those days when our newspaper were a self-parody filled with so-called dignitaries at photo-ops and the occasional sports story. Great harm was done by the Bhutto nationalization to this family and yet he remained to the end a son of the soil. It would remiss of us not to honor this man, his family and the proud tradition of honest scrupulous person who would fight for all that a civilized society should hold dear. In my minds eye the lasting image of him would be that of man dressed in a crisp white shirt blithely ignoring the splattering mud as he made his way proudly through life. Life well lived and thanks for the memories.
The writer knows to play with words and in this article, he's won the game.
Thank you for bringing Mr. Cowasjee memories back to us, I never missed his columns on Saturday nights our local time, what a man he was, he served this nation till his last breath. When even I wrote him, he never ever failed to write me right back. I have said to him and I will say it again that he will be in my thoughts till I kick the bucket. Thank you again.
A patriot and a gentleman, Cowasjee is deeply missed, Well said Asad Rahim.
Superb column. It is ironic that discussion of Mr. Cowasjee's columns almost feels like a celebration. It eases our pain as we remain helpless in the face of our rulers' blind rapaciousness.
Beautifully written piece for Cowasjee!
Excellent!
beautiful, some parts moved me very much. a great man and a loss to our community. very well said.
What an article. No idea who this guy was but wow. What an article.
Great piece! For a great man, Bravo!!