THIS remembrance is of a man I had observed from afar for many years.

Then, by chance, we met—and that meeting proved to be the last. It was through the blessing of Iqbal that people gathered in Quetta from near and far. Among them was Dr. Haroon-ur-Rashid Tabassum. Seeing me, he greeted me warmly and recited: Aaya hai aasman se urr kar koi sitara, Ya jaan par gayi hai mahtaab ki kiran mein. Ya shab ki saltanat mein din ka safeer aaya, Ghurabat mein aa ke chamka, gumnaam tha watan mein. “Has a star descended from the heavens, or has a ray of moonlight come alive? Has the envoy of day entered the kingdom of night? He shone in exile, though unknown in his own homeland.” Such was his affectionate style. I touched his knees respectfully and replied, “Please do not say so, Doctor Sahib. If there is a star here, it is one held captive by your greatness in exile.” That first detailed meeting united us like long-separated friends who fear another parting.

What was Haroon-ur-Rashid Tabassum? Much could be debated, but the essential truth is simple: if one wished to see self-confidence and steadfastness embodied, one should have seen him. After his passing, someone wrote that without him Sargodha looked desolate. Such tributes are usually reserved for the powerful and wealthy. He possessed no material fortune. He came from a modest, anonymous, hardworking........

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