I met Mr. Cowasjee 23 years ago when I was sent to fix his Macintosh computer. He glared at me and said "Saala, garmi lagta hae?" 10 Mary Road was a whole different world; the parrots, the dogs, Amina Jilani ... it was all a bit overwhelming for a 15-year-old and I was somewhat flummoxed. I mumbled incoherently and Cowasjee said, "Tau kapra utaar do"!

I was mortified and made a beeline for the dysfunctional Mac. Cowasjee had a Dawn column due and was bellowing at Amina who was doing her best to keep the humans and animals sane. After that harrowing first experience, I made it a point to coordinate Mac repairs with Cowasjee’s afternoon naps. Over the years, as I became comfortable going to Cowasjee’s home and stopped freaking out each time he'd say something, I grew to adore him. I remained intimidated in his towering presence though - the sheer depth, breadth and texture of his knowledge and experiences were a force of nature.

When I founded T2F in 2007, Cowasjee was amongst the first people to come out in support of the initiative. We hosted an evening of storytelling with him, soon after we launched. During the Q/A session, a young man asked him for advice, hoping to get a rousing, patriotic response. Cowasjee said, "Get out of Pakistan while you can." The fellow asked a counter question, "What if we can't get out?" Cowasjee said, "Then suffer"! The next day, a bunch of Indian newspapers were crowing about the fact that Pakistan is a failed state because one of its leading columnists advised Pakistanis to leave their country.

Before Cowasjee's health took a turn for the worse, he would come to T2F regularly. He'd arrive in his trademark toga and just hang out with everyone. On our first birthday, he showed up with a massive bunch of beautiful sunflowers grown in his own garden. His standard order was a traditional cold coffee with sugar-free ice-cream and he'd sit there and chat with the kids, give impromptu history lessons, and play chess with whoever was up for a game.

One day, he came to an event and sat down somewhere in the middle of the room. Every now and then, there'd be a disruption emanating from his general direction. He didn't agree with most of what the speaker was nattering on about and after a while, he left. At some point, I got called outside for something - and there was the grand old man, sitting on a bench holding court with a dozen teenagers surrounding him, as he delivered an alternative perspective. After the event concluded, Cowasjee came back inside and said, "Saala, ye jaga kaesay chalta hae, saara event tau muft hota hae". I said, "Bahut mushkil se chalta hae." He said, "bring me a piece of paper and a pen." He proceeded to write a cheque for Rs. 10,000 on an A4 sheet of paper and said, "Ye lo." He never carried cash and didn't use a chequebook. Getting that cheque encashed was an experience in itself - it took over a week of calls, e-mails, follow-ups with Amina, and an eventual visit to the bank.

In 2008, Cowasjee came round for the launch of Alice Albinia's book, "Empires of the Indus", carrying a large frame. The event had already started and I was sitting up front with Asif Farrukhi and Alice. Cowasjee always created a stir wherever he went and this time was no different. Everyone was rather curious about the frame he was carrying. He handed it to me and I handed it to one of the boys behind the counter and went back and sat down to avoid further disruption. When the event ended, I dashed off to retrieve the frame and figure out what the fuss was about. We were all absolutely bowled over by Cowasjee’s thoughtfulness and generosity. His gift was a rare photograph of Mr. Jinnah inscribed with a lovely message, "T2F: May there always be 6" of water below your keel".

In June 2008, Cowasjee came to Mohammed Hanif's book launch. He went and sat down behind the café counter with his cold coffee. When the event ended, he said, "There is a big issue with this book". A Case of Exploding Mangoes is a historical book and it doesn't have an index!!" On April 1st 2009, he came over in his shorts for a final round of coffee on the last day of T2F 1.0. He told me not to worry and that all would be well.

Whenever we'd have a book sale, Cowasjee and Amina would send across a large carton of books in mint condition. When I needed a recommendation letter, despite ill-health, Cowasjee wrote me one. When we wanted to hold an exhibition of Pedro Meyer's photography, I wrote to him for support, bickering about the lack of corporate support for cultural initiatives. He responded, "Dear Sabeen. Will help. BIG BOYS DICTATE TERMS. What do they want which you cannot give? I want to learn. Best/AC".

He helped. Cowasjee always helped. In any way he could.

The writer is founder of PeaceNiche.