Remembering Uncle Khushwant

When my father, Manzur Qadir, died the famous author and journalist, Khushwant Singh (whose ashes have been brought to Pakistan and placed in his native village), wrote a moving memorial note about him. Ever since I can remember he was my father’s greatest friend. Unfortunately, at his own demise, there is no Uncle Khushwant around to write a similar piece about him. Uncle Khushwant remarked about my father that he was the epitome of honesty. He was true to himself. The image he presented of himself was what he was (barring his penchant for representing himself as a lecher). He not only appeared kind, he was kind. He not only appeared open, he was open. He not only appeared friendly, he was friendly. You could meet him after a decade and feel as if no time had gone by in between. Not only will one miss him as Uncle Khushwant, but as a man of inherent integrity — so rare nowadays.

If there was anyone you could say had no humbug about him, that person was Uncle Khushwant. He had a great sense of humour that was rendered all the funnier and more endearing because he himself would be the butt of it more often than not. I cannot imagine him taking umbrage about any negative comment about him, as he would probably agree with the other person. He was an observer, watching the world and remarking on its oddities and humour — and he was very much part of that world, as odd and funny as anything else. Not only will we miss him as a writer who could show us the world as he saw it, but as the humble person who could make people feel good about their own foibles when they saw everybody through his eyes. One should not mourn his departure in the English way but in the way he would have preferred — with an Irish wake, and a whisky put in his hand.

One could go on about so many aspects of Khushwant Singh but here I want to mention his deep and courageous patriotism as an Indian and his deep and courageous friendship for Pakistan. With as clear a vision as he had for people, he pointed out what India was doing wrong — to India. Now that is patriotism. Only if a person does that can the person’s country begin to correct itself. It takes great courage and he had that courage.


When patriotism demanded it he opposed the Sikh stand in India, facing the wrath of the Sikh community. When patriotism demanded it, he tried to correct India’s view of Pakistan. That was an act of friendship for Pakistan that took even more courage. He took flak standing in the Indian Parliament and defending Pakistan. He also dared to tell Pakistan, during a visit to Pakistan, about how it needed to modify its stand. Now that was friendship. It was no less an act of friendship and courage than defending Pakistan in India. For his pains, he had Pakistani journalists criticise him. Not only for his courageous support of Pakistan in India and his courageous attempts to bring reason to Pakistan, but as a lost well-wisher and adviser to us should Pakistan miss him. It is a matter of shame for Pakistan, and me as a Pakistani, that we did not give due recognition to Khushwant Singh in the form of at least a civil award during his life. One can only hope that we will try to redeem ourselves to some extent by recognising his contributions to us by a posthumous award.

Above all, Khushwant was a human. It is surprising how few humans there are in the mass of humanity and how little humanity there is in humans. He did not act against humans but for them. How many humans can one acclaim that way? Not many I fear. He and my father used to ferry Hindus and Muslims across the border at the time of partition. They, of course, were regarded as cowards. In this hurtful, hateful, hating third millennium; in the era of ravaging, raping, slaughtering and reviling; in this age of greedy grasping, grabbing; we are left to mourn the loss of one more true human — not one of seven billion but one in a billion. Farewell Uncle Khushwant!

Published in The Express Tribune, April 24^th, 2014.