Restless soul at rest
THE headline above is not mine. It is Murtaza Razvi’s, a colleague and friend from Dawn. I have borrowed it from the obituary he wrote of his mother, a writer, for Dawn’s Books & Authors when I was editing it.
Now, a decade later, it gives me a sense of sadness to use the same words for Murtaza whose life was cut short so brutally a week ago. It was January 2002. Murtaza’s mother Zaheena Tahir had passed away in Lahore. On his return after her funeral, he had resumed work. As I condoled with him, we talked about what mothers meant to their children even after they were no longer children. He told me about Zaheena Tahir and her writings. I was fascinated and asked him if he would like to write a piece on her literary work for me. He agreed.
That piece of writing gave me an instant insight into this young man who was mature beyond his years. I have always believed that a man carries the reflection of his mother. Zaheena’s prose and poetry, according to Habib Jalib writing in the preface to her book, were directed “at inequality and injustices that we see around us” and some of her poems expressed “deep-felt pain”, which inspired “resistance against the age-old order”.
Murtaza inherited this sensitivity. His life and interests were rich and versatile and as a result his personality had multiple dimensions. As the tributes poured in, one realised how well-liked Murtaza Razvi was and for such diverse reasons. Political, social and cultural analyst, literary critic and translator. Above all, he was a good human being and ever ready to help.
His academic background — a Masters in Indian History from Government College Lahore and another Masters in Political Science from Villanova University (US) — combined with his sensitivity and perception produced a fine intellect. That was his biggest asset.
Add to this his command over various languages (eastern and western) and you had a writer who could succinctly express ideas freely but intelligently. His ability to combine the qualities of head and heart gave much strength to his writing and he rooted his idioms deeply in local culture and traditions.
His concern for his fellow-beings and the remarkable breadth and depth of his knowledge and reading gave him the ability to transform the most mundane issue into something exalted. This is there in his book Ordinary People, which is a collection of 15 interviews he conducted with people each of whom may be described as the ‘man in the street’.
They included people like a barber, a shoemaker, a hawker and so on. The idea was to show how these men and women with no extraordinary claim to fame — some actually marginalised — had made contributions to society and the economy in their own humble way to keep the wheels of national life turning.
Dr Mubarak Ali, the eminent historian who remembers Murtaza fondly and is full of praise for his work, describes this book as “history from below”. That was Murtaza, so fair in his assessment and always willing to champion the cause of the oppressed.
We often spoke about the status of women in Pakistan and what direction the struggle should take. We were in agreement on the line writers should take. For us the age that was “a veritable whine-fest of moaning, groaning and self-pity” on the oppression of women needed to end. We needed a period of struggle and self-construction with women working for self-improvement, as many are doing.
His last book Musharraf: The Years in Power was an example of what publishers call quickie books that are written at short notice to coincide with a major unexpected event and thus catch the popular imagination.
The event was Gen Musharraf’s ouster from power. Murtaza wrote the book in three months and should be given credit for his creativity and innovation. After capturing a snapshot of the events in the Musharraf decade — mainly for the benefit of foreign readers — he did something ingenious to give the book a new appeal. He interviewed eight different people of all shades of opinion — there would have been nine had Musharraf agreed to meet him — and produced a neat package of diverse and interesting views including those of Lt Gen (retd) Moinuddin Haider, Dr Ayesha Siddiqa, Javed Jabbar, Khalid Ahmed, two of Musharraf’s batch mates, lawyer Abid Hasan Minto and cricketer Aftab Gul.In his blogs, Murtaza used his knowledge of literature and culture to write biting humorous pieces that conveyed a profound message. Whether it was by quoting Ghalib’s poetry — ‘hum ko faryad karni aati hai’ — or delving into language usage to bring up gems — ‘Allah hafiz’ and not ‘Khuda hafiz’ — he sharply demonstrated the Saudisation of Pakistani culture and politics.
What has gone from our midst is the synthesis of East and West that Murtaza symbolised and which gave beauty to his writings.
For this he drew deep from the fountains of our cultures and languages and that was the prism through which he looked at politics. Small wonder he never wanted to leave this country even when violence began tearing it to shreds. There were moments of wavering as when he had to fetch his girls suddenly from school because of a bomb scare and Priya clung to him and cried, “I don’t want to die.” But the moment passed and he held firm. My heart goes out to Sheri and the girls in this hour of grief. We will be there for you.
Only great people leave such an impact on people. He did his part while living, leaves a lagecy to follow for the writers, historians, or the teachers in all of us. Finaly he is free. MAY HIS SOUL REST IN PEACE.
Thanks for this pognant and moving piece. What a loss….what a loss.
It's only in the past two to three years that I have been reading the columns in Dawn….and Murtaza Razvi was a staple.
All I can say is, if his killers are not brought to justice, and given their just deserts, PAKISTAN HAS SOLD ITS SOUL !
Who have we as a nation and a people become? That people like Sunny, who spoke so bravely against intolerance and bigotry and who had so much to contribute, can be wiped out is devastating for us as a country. We are slowly losing the voices who can speak up against this Orwellian nightmare. We are broken-hearted for Sheri and the girls.
May Allah almighty rest his soul in peace and shower his countless blessings upon him and all other muslims.
Murtaza was a great journalist and an even better human being.
Thanks for writing about him Zubeida.
Feel hopelessly helpless! It is people like Murtaza Razvi who got me addicted to Dawn. He was a writer who poured out his emotions and frustrations about the society so openly and bravely. Believe me, there aren’t to many like him! From what I read, he seems to have been an extremely good and interesting human being as well – a great son, husband and father too! My heart goes out to his family! Dawn should not stop writing about him until the perpetrators of this crime are found and punished! Enough is enough!
The death of Murtaza..Great loss to not only Pakistani people but also to other outside Pakistan.
We lost a GEM..!!!
Pakistani will never learn from these kind of tragedies..never..
Why was he killed? who are the killers? why would somebody kill a journalist. What would they get from his murder???
Sad
Thank You Zubaida, Some losses are verbally irrepairable but for me as his younger brother its devastating. With conviction i can say that in one life span I have lost my father for the second time:-( May his soul rest in peace forever. Ameen
Must say that it's well written obituary and am sure that Murtaza would have appreciated the feelings expressed, wonder if such thoughts were ever communicated to him when he was still around, wonder if these words are of any value to this great man—-didn't know him but like to believe that he was as his friends tell. Why do we wait so long to talk about all the great qualities someone among us has, must we all die for the world to know the goodness and humanity that we carry within ourselves—must we?
Don't worry I did talk about these things to Murtaza and he knew how likeminded we were. We don't have the tradition of writing these unless there is an occasion. You are right that we don't know whether such words are of any use to him now. But those who are living can learn from them.
It's not meant to be critical of Zubeida Mustafa or anyone in particular—–O' it's beautiful piece of prose and I'm sure Mr. Razvi would've loved it, had someone appreciated him publically when he was still here and cared. It's just a thought provoking effort; it might be of some value to highlight and appreciate those who are busy doing wonderful things for us here which might, just might make the potential killers see the positive and useful side of the individual just before the final assault and this might just prevent the killing. As far as tradition goes, if it's alright to sling mud around on others then it must be also OK to praise the good people—–and it might motivate and some among us to emulate the virtuous among us.
No words,just mourn him.
I never met Sunny in person, but I met him through others. I never conversed with him personally, but did so through his writings. The gentleness of his spirit, the thoughtfulness of his arguments, and the passion of his ideas clarified the murkiness of politics of Pakistan. He was a brave heart who took upon himself to speak for reason, to speak truth to power, to rail against bigotry, and made common cause with minorities of Pakistan.
Sheherzade and the girls will always be in our thoughts and always in our heart.
Can Dawn as an institution make sure that Murtaza's case is pursued relentlessly and the culprits brought to justice. I know, it will not bring back a loving husband and caring father but at least we can prevent this from happening to others.
Thank you , Zubeida. Some losses are to deep to be put into words.
Murtaza ( RIP) would have loved to live on and continue being intellectually creative.
He always was prompt in replying to an e-mail .
Its sad times , we live in !!!