Dekha Jinhen Palat Kay

WHEN Mujib-ur-Rehman Shami declared, “Ataa-ul-Haq Qasmi is the greatest writer in Pakistan,” the hall of the National Institute of Public Policy burst into applause.

The occasion was the launch of my new book, “Dekha Jinhein Palat Key,” hosted by my dear friend Dr. Naveed Ilahi.

Dr. Naveed and I once served together in the Presidency during President Mamnoon Hussain’s tenure. The late President used to joke that our friendship was so close it sometimes made him uneasy. His concern stemmed from certain elements within the Presidency that were always active in advancing their own peculiar agendas. During a sensitive time, when Allama Khadim Hussain Rizvi was marching on Islamabad, a plan was hatched to arrange meetings between the President and dubious figures in violation of state policy. It was then that Dr. Naveed Ilahi stood firm and said, “Over my dead body.” I supported him wholeheartedly. The President appreciated our loyalty but would often smile and caution us not to cross any red lines in our zeal. He trusted us, yet his paternal instinct always made him offer gentle reminders.

Those days became cherished memories, which resurfaced during the book event—but the focus that evening was Dekha Jinhein Palat Key. My second collection of sketches should have been published long ago, but I was engrossed in compiling the spiritual anecdotes of Hazrat Data Ganj Bakhsh (May Allah have mercy on him). It was Allama Abdul Sattar Asim and my brother Irfan Jafar Khan who persuaded me to hand over the sketches and continue my spiritual writings. Proofreading and publishing were managed by them and Allama Asim encouraged me, saying the book would flow naturally—and it did. By God’s grace, it received remarkable acclaim and now its second edition is being planned.

After the publication, Dr. Naveed Ilahi invited me to Lahore, announcing that his Institute would hold a special session on the book. The National Institute of Public Policy (NIPP) is a degree-awarding institution soon to receive a university charter, responsible for the training of Pakistan’s bureaucracy. Many wondered what role literature could possibly play in such an environment of officialdom. The Rector, Dr. Jameel Afaaqi, beautifully answered this question in his address. “We are consciously trying to bridge the gap between the bureaucracy and the public,” he said. “One way is through the study of literature and the arts. Our officers do read, but their focus is usually English. We want them to rediscover national languages—especially Urdu. Books like Dekha Jinhein Palat Key not only belong to literature but are also part of our national history.”

At the event, Mujib-ur-Rehman Shami discussed several sketches from the book, including those of Nawabzada Liaquat Ali Khan, Mushahidullah Khan and Javed Hashmi. He untangled historical threads with eloquence and offered words of warm encouragement. A beautiful moment of mutual respect occurred when Ataa-ul-Haq Qasmi insisted Shami Sahib should speak first out of courtesy, but Shami Sahib responded that Qasmi, being the greatest living writer and a fearless voice of truth, should address the audience first. The crowd applauded their exchange with admiration.

My mentor Dr. Tahir Masood once said that Qasmi Sahib’s love for others is boundless and unconditional—a truth I have long experienced. Once again, I was the recipient of his generosity. He encouraged me deeply and remarked, “Farooq belongs to that rare breed of writers who do not practice public relations, yet people gather around them; it is because of his humility.” When he first received my book, he said, “When I begin reading Saif-ul-Malook by Mian Muhammad Bakhsh, I cannot stop until the end. Farooq’s Dekha Jinhein Palat Key has the same pull. I keep it under my pillow and read one sketch every night, imagining the person Farooq has brought to life.”

The event drew many friends and colleagues—Tayyab Ijaz Qureshi, Khalid Mahmood Rasool, Dr. Abu-ul-Wafa Mahmood, Asad Chughtai, Amir Mehmood Cheema, Abu Bakr Qadoosi, Dr. Waqar Malik, Sajjad Anwar, Chaudhry Abdul Ghafoor, Pir Zia-ul-Haq Naqshbandi, anchor Ramadan Sheikh and Jamshed Ali Khan, who knows my literary journey better than most. Jamshed Sahib, once a vibrant conversationalist, has grown quiet since moving to Lahore, but his words still carry the weight of lived experience.

Many distinguished guests also spoke—Dr. Fareed Ahmad Paracha, Dr. Hussain Ahmad Paracha, Professor Saleem Mansoor Khalid, Punjab University’s Pro-Vice Chancellor Dr. Khalid Mahmood, my brother Salman Ghani, Dr. Saif and, of course, Dr. Naveed Ilahi. Their kind reflections and presence filled me with gratitude. As the evening drew to a close, Shami Sahib observed, “It has been a long time since Lahore witnessed such a vibrant literary gathering, attended by people from every walk of life.” Indeed, Lahore—may your splendor remain forever bright.

—This writer is former advisor to the President of Pakistan, author & mass media theorist.

(farooq.adilbhuta@gmail,com)

Get Alerts