Long after writers breathe their last, their thoughts, ideas, and vision don’t truly die. They live on in their works, through their sentences and paragraphs. Their words pulse with passion and ideas, continuing to whisper wisdom and sanity into the ears of the people around them. This is the profound comfort I hold onto as we mourn the passing of my dear friend, Dr Javid Iqbal, who recently fought a quiet battle with liver cancer. Death snatched him away from us.
Dr Javid Iqbal was one of the most distinguished writers and columnists of our land. Renowned for the remarkable diversity of subjects he explored - from civic amenities to the State budget, from the environment to sports, from economics to politics, from comparative religion to mysticism, from Lal Ded to Maulana Rumi, from Iqbal to Begum Akhtar, and from Indo-Pak relations to the affairs of the Muslim world - there was hardly a subject on which he did not write incisive analyses and insightful commentaries.
History, Poetry and Iqbal
His extraordinary breadth of knowledge was shaped by a life lived widely and deeply. A medical doctor by profession, he spent nearly three decades working in Libya and Iran. It was during his years in Iran that he immersed himself in the study of Rumi, Hafiz, Jami, and scores of great Persian masters, cultivating a profound mystical understanding that later graced his columns.
He also possessed a formidable grounding in history, undoubtedly influenced by his father, Prof Saif-u-Din, a renowned scholar and teacher of history, and nourished by a rich home library spanning Islamic, Indian, and Kashmiri history. I believe that alongside medicine, history - particularly that of Islam and South Asia - was his true passion. While it may sound cliché to describe him as an encyclopaedia of Islamic history, his responses to any query on the subject were often quicker than a search engine; they were exhaustive and left no need for further explanation.
The same held for his mastery of Dr Sir Mohammad Iqbal and Maulana Rumi. He possessed an elephantine memory, capable of quoting specific verses and sometimes entire poems at will. Many a time, I envied his remarkable ability to summon the most appropriate verses from these poets on the spur of the moment.
Whenever he quoted from Allama’s Persian poetry, he left us spellbound, brilliantly contextualising the verses to the prevailing social and political situations in the subcontinent. When he spoke, particularly about Iqbal’s spiritual odyssey in the Javid Namah, most of us, his friends, listened like attentive pupils, our eyes fixed on his serene, fair-complexioned face and our ears attuned to his every word.
While discussing Iqbal's encounter with Mir Syed Ali Hamadani, he would beautifully articulate how Iqbal connected him to Kashmir, capturing the entire spectrum of Amir-e-Kabir’s thoughts through the finest medium of human expression. Similarly, his reflections on Ghani Kashmiri’s encounter with Allama Iqbal covered the entire gamut of the great poet's work, leaving indelible lessons for generations of Kashmiris on how self-respect and dignity rise above the role of a mere courtier.
When mentioning Iqbal’s meeting with Vishwamitra during his spiritual journey, Javid Sahib’s eloquence made his eager but ignorant friends delve deeper and deeper into Indian mythology.
He was a man of immense personal conviction and discipline. A defining turning point in his life occurred in 1982 during a flight from Libya to London. The presence of an esteemed senior colleague, Dr Mohammad Yahya Alvi, a high-ranking physician deeply respected for his piety and Islamic scholarship, prompted a profound internal reflection. On that journey, he bade farewell to Bacchus, never to touch it again. That same unwavering discipline fuelled his writing.
Prolific Writer
He wrote several columns a week. Besides being one of the most prolific writers of our times, he was also an exceptionally eloquent speaker. He spoke with equal authority and insight on affairs of state and Islamic history, reflecting the extraordinary range of his scholarship. Ultimately, his discourses on Islamic history demonstrated not only the depth of his intellect but also his profound spiritual engagement.
Many, if not most, of his columns focused on Indo-Pakistan relations and the centrality of Kashmir to them, a focus that seamlessly carried over into his public speaking. Given the myriad shades and complexities inherent in the rainbow of Indo-Pak relations, it was inevitable that one might occasionally disagree with him. The beauty of his temperament and accommodative nature was that his feathers were never ruffled. Even when faced with disagreement or critique of his writings and public stances, he invariably responded with a gentle smile.
Having shared a long and close association with him, it is impossible to sum up his personality in a small note of tribute. Let me conclude with this: because he studied and wrote so beautifully on Maulana Rumi, the master's own words offer the most fitting solace today: "Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation."
Through his immense body of work and the memories he leaves behind, Dr Iqbal will never truly depart from our hearts.
Have you liked the news article?