Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah is seen having a last look at the speech draft as he was about to speak on All-India Radio on June 3, 1947, in Delhi, soon after the announcement by Lord Mountbatten of the British Government’s Partition Plan. | Photo: The Press Information Department, Ministry of Information, Broadcasting & National Heritage, Islamabad (PID)
This day, a year ago, our Quaid-i-Azam departed from us. The loss was too deep for tears, and the hearts of the people of Pakistan wept more bitterly than their eyes. For it was he who gave us our homeland and the right to a name amongst the nations of the world. He was not only the Creator of Pakistan and of an era of independence and self-realisation for us, but he was like a father to all Pakistanis and was loved, respected and looked up to as such.
How my good fortune brought me close to the Quaid-i-Azam was a surprise to me, and I remember the details vividly. It was in New Delhi on July 23, 1947, four days after the formation of the Provisional Government of Pakistan, when unexpectedly I received word that I should see Mr. Mohammad Ali, Secretary-General to the new Government, at 10 a.m. I went to him, and he selected me for appointment on the personal staff of the Quaid-i-Azam and asked me to go and report to the GREAT MAN.
So far I had seen and admired the Quaid-i-Azam from a distance, on the public platform and Assembly Floor, but being so near to such a great man was different. It was therefore with no easy steps that I made my way to 10, Aurangzeb Road, where I sent in my name. Mr. Mohammad Ali had telephoned about me, and I was immediately admitted. I walked into the study and then suddenly I was in his presence. This was the greatest moment of my life.
SHEER WILLPOWER
The Quaid-i-Azam was seated in a sofa smoking a cigar and beckoned me to sit down. My excitement and nervousness had the better of me as I wondered what he would expect of me and my work. Soon, however, the Quaid-i-Azam in his inimitable way put me at ease. He asked me questions about myself, my career, my plans for moving to Karachi. Then, in a tone which removed the last vestiges of my nervousness, he asked me, pointing to a heap of telegrams and messages he had received from all corners of the earth on his appointment as the Governor General of Pakistan, whether I would “kindly” start with them and sort them out.
TEARS OF JOY
Two weeks later we arrived in Karachi and immediately plunged into a vortex of official functions. On August 14 when the Constituent Assembly of Pakistan met for the first time the Quaid-i-Azam asked me to accompany him to the Assembly Chamber. This was his first official function. The roads were lined with members of the Armed Forces and the public. The full-throated shouts of ‘Quaid-i-Azam Zindabad’ and ‘Pakistan Zindabad’ made my heart swell.
The Quaid-i-Azam was visibly moved and remarked, pointing to the people, what wonderful human material we had and how, if their enthusiasm was directed into the proper channels, Pakistan would become one of the leading states of the world.
As we passed the YMCA building on Strachen Road, he described the institution as an example of organisation and how a handful of people had set up branches in all quarters of the world. He went on to mention the Parsi community – a small fraction of the population of India, but rich and honoured because of their industry and organisation. “If only we can organise all the Muslim people,” the Quaid-i-Azam added, “we can achieve miracles.”
Although the Quaid-i-Azam never rested a moment after he became Governor General and literally worked himself to death, his first two months were the busiest and most anxious. It was a period when Muslims were being mercilessly butchered in East Punjab, and the West Punjab Government which had had a Muslim League Ministry only from August 16, was suddenly confronted with the stupendous problem of refugees. It was a time of great trial and had he been unnerved then, Pakistan would have succumbed in the very hour of its birth.
The Quaid-i-Azam exerted himself to the utmost and thundered in those uncertain days “Pakistan had come to stay” and, as everyone now knows, it stayed and shall stay. But at what grievous cost to himself!
Some people have blamed the Quaid-i-Azam for being cold. No doubt, he retained balance and poise and showed no weakness when smaller men were swayed by passion and wanted to give vent to it.
If he did not keep his head cool ,who would? But mentally he suffered deep anguish.
It was during his second visit to Lahore in October, 1947, where he had an attack of influenza that I realised how difficult he was in the matter of his personal health. I respectfully suggested to him twice to let us arrange for the best doctor available but he would say “Amin, there is nothing wrong with me. I have had this bad throat on many occasions, and I know what to do!”
He did not like doctors “to experiment” on him, as he put it himself humorously. He had also an aversion to a nurse attending to him probably because he did not want to be helped by others. In the beginning, I used to pick up his papers or pen to place before him, but he did not like it and would always help himself.
FIRM CONVICTION
Though his mind was usually made up, he sometimes relented and paid us the compliment for our sincerity by accepting our advice in harmless matters. I remember for example when he planned to visit Kakul and open the Pakistan Military Academy in May, 1948, and suddenly became too indisposed to travel. He insisted upon going, as any changes in his official engagements were most repugnant to him. But we all felt that he should not go and in the end he accepted our advice and agreed to the cancellation of the visit.
On a more pleasant occasion, he said that Ziarat, which he loved, could be made into a beautiful city with big comfortable hotels, nice bungalows, parks, flower gardens, and so on. He added smiling: “You know I dream, and sometimes my dreams come true. Pakistan was one such dream. Similarly I dream about Ziarat too and it may one day come true!”
The Quaid-i-Azam had a keen sense of humour – his one quality generally unknown to the people. He was simply charming at times. He often regaled us with anecdotes and jokes at the dinner table. One joke that has stuck in my memory was as follows:
A certain Indian judge was strolling on the platform of a small country station in England where the train had stopped for an unduly longer time, when a top-hatted Englishman got down from his 1st class compartment and, coming straight to the judge, asked: “When is the train due to leave?”
“How do I know?” The latter replied.
“Surely you ought to know. Are you not the station master?” said the top-hatted Englishman.
“No, I am not,” said the judge with some acerbity.
“Then,” retorted the Englishman, “why the hell do you look like one?”
FALLING HEALTH
The details of the Quaid-i-Azam’s last illness are now more or less known to the public. Since he would not spare himself from official work at Karachi and carried work and met visitors even during the weekends at Malir, he was advised a change. He left for Quetta on May 25 but cut short his rest and recuperation in the end of June and came down to Karachi to inaugurate the State Bank of Pakistan.
![ Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah is being welcomed at the Chamber of Commerce in Karachi in 1947. Seen in the distance is a crowd of people in front of the North Western Palace Hotel that had gathered to catch a glimpse of the Quaid. | Photo: The Press Information Department, Ministry of Information, Broadcasting & National Heritage, Islamabad (PID) ][20]
During his stay in Karachi he overworked himself and returned to Balochistan a tired man with the good effects of his rest lost again.
One day one of the doctors attending on him said, “Quaid-i-Azam, we need you for another 10 years to strengthen Pakistan which you achieved after such a long struggle.”
I am told that he did not let the doctor even finish. “I have done my job,” he said. “I do not mind dying now – but I don’t want to die in Ziarat.” Then he added the famous words some of which he later repeated in his Independence Day message. “You have got everything – a free and independent country where you can shape your life to your own pattern. Nature has given you everything … It is now for you, the younger generation, to build up and strengthen your country.”
Throughout his illness, until he was absolutely spent, he continued to attend to official work. I will never forget the occasion when he signed one of the last official documents granting Full Powers to Sir Zafrullah Khan to represent Pakistan on the UN. He was very weak and asked me to help him sit up. I did so and he said, “Hold me fast.” The words were uttered as if in command, but how very weak was the tone!
He was tired when he had got through with the paper, and said in a peculiar touching voice. “Amin, I am out of breath and you are also out of breath.” I was certainly out of breath, but not because the effort of holding him up had tired me. It was the effort to control my emotions.
ARRANGEMENTS AT MALIR
On September 10 in Quetta he called me. “Is everything ready”, he asked, “supposing I want to leave for Karachi today?’’ I said, “Yes, Sir.” “Have you got anything important to show to me?” He added after a pause. “There is nothing, Quaid-i-Azam,” I said and was amazed at his perpetual concern for matters of state even in such a delicate condition. The next day we left Quetta.
A few hours after arrival at Karachi his condition suddenly took a turn for the worse. I had the privilege to be near him up to the last. At 10.10 p.m. that day, the doctor, in order to make him fight the illness, said, “Quaid-i-Azam, you are going to live.”
“No, I am, not” said the Quaid-i-Azam prophesying his end, and within 15 minutes he was no more. The Father of the Nation was dead. He had departed from our midst and joined the immortals. His last moments were very peaceful and in his death he looked more serene and dignified than ever.
As His Excellency Khawaja Nazimuddin in his first broadcast on his assumption of office as Governor General said, there cannot be another Quaid-i-Azam. What he did, nobody is now in a position to do. The various qualities he had few can combine. Forever we shall remember him, but no greater tributes could be paid to his memory than to make his creation Pakistan strong and great. This was the one ideal always in his mind.
The article has been edited for clarity.
This story is part of a series of 16 special reports under the banner of ‘70 years of Pakistan and Dawn’. Read the special report here.