BASHIR HUSSAIN NAZIM: END OF AN ERA

WHEN A LIBRARY IS DESTROYED .......!

MAHTAB BASHIR

mahtabbashir@gmail.com
03335363248

"JAB SE MADDA-HE-HAZRAT (pbuh) HY WAZEEFA APNA

TAB SE IFLAAS MERAY GHAR SY PRESHAN NIKLA"!

 

Bashir Hussain Nazim with Majeed Nizami

With the Eid-ul-Adha on the edge, I am penning down my emotions and gut-feelings shared with my great father Bashir Hussain Nazim- immersed with love, dignity, honour and pride. I will miss my dad on Eid day, because of contrasting views on slaughtering of Bakra. I distinctly remember, last year on the Eid day when I planned to hire the services of a Butcher and after some time a Butcher stood at doorstep, father asked him whether he knows about Takbeer? A shake of his head in negative not only put that Butcher in deep trouble but gathered sheer mortification to me as well (not to mention what happened once the Butcher left :-). Later, father himself slaughtered the goat while we managed to handle the legs of that Bakra.

On a very serous note, I will miss my father more than words will ever allow me to express. He was my hero, the wise one I listened to and sought advice from, he was my medicine man when I was ill. My dad was the first man I fell in love with as a little boy and no man will ever fill his shoes nor will walk closely behind. I find comfort in his quick and painless passing but the sorrow will always be deep. He was a simple man- a Shalwar-Kameez type of grace.



My father, Allama Bashir Hussain Nazim was a self-taught person. A linguist personified, a naat khawan and naat composer at par, a staunch lover of Holy Prophet (pbuh), a passionate admirer of Iqbal and a true man of letters. 

Abbu with Ashfaq Ahmed, Bano Qudsia and Mansha Yad

I am blessed to have had such a wonderful man like he was. I was also blessed to be with him as he disappeared to meet his creator. As he entered home on the night of June 16 at 1130 hours, we found him in agonizing pain. I thought this pain was business as usual as he often asked me pointing towards his legs “ay phar yar merian lattan, daba zara, kafi dard ho riya ay”. As we started rubbing and massaging his legs, he felt suffocation along severe sweating. Without wasting time, we called a nearby physician, who had a quick examination and referred us to move him to hospital. And within few minutes, we were on our way towards CMH, Rawalpindi (of which Abbu wished to go, because of his son Brig. Dr Mukarram Bashir , who is working there). We reached there within 20 minutes. As we were covering the distance, I found father reciting holy verses and Darood-e-Pak (as he always found). During this drive, I was not panicked sensing it would be a normal check up. May be father is having food poisoning, may be its because of weakness, or a drip or two will definitely help him stand back on his feet, I thought (because father never told pain in his chest). As he was put on hospital’s bed and Mukarram Bhai along with two other doctors on duty engaged in the remedial process, I took a sigh of relief, left that spot and came outside in the car parking with the prayers on my lips. After 10-15 minutes I thought to go inside to know the updates- I found one duty doctor whispering with Mukarram Bhai, “we are doing the hospital’s procedural work and after that its upto you either you take the body along right now or at morning time.” This brief sentence was the most shocking I have ever heard throughout my life. I found a spot slipping away beneath my feet, literally. I yelled… “what are you talking about. I will see my father myself. I will treat him myself.” …and as I entered the ward, throw the curtain away… I found my beloved father wrapped in a white sheet. I hurriedly slipped the piece of cloth to see his face. He was smiling, and reciting Darood-e-Pak but his lips were not moving ……….!!! I hugged him tightly to confirm whether he is gone and in response he never produced a whisper, even. I only wished I would have hugged him longer and tighter a bit earlier on that blessed night of “Meiraaj Shareef”, and with the dawn of “Fathers’ Day”, had I known it was the last time his strong arms would hold me.

"SILSILA NAAT KA KIA KHOOB CHALA MERE BAAD
QABR PERHTI HY MERI- SALLE ALA MERY BAAD

NOOR-E-HAZRAT SE MERI QABR FAROZAN HO GI
US PE BARSY GI SADA NOOR GHATAA- MERY BAAD

TA ABAD SAYYED-E-ALAM KI SANA MEIN NAZIM
HO GI MATTI BHI MERI, NAAT SARA- MERY BAAD"!