Imtiaz Gul
Would you have some time to see us today or tomorrow?
The humility of the caller came across as sheer embarrassment to me. Why? It was Shahidur Rehman sahib on the other end. And it was embarrassing because he was among my few mentors in journalism still working with his life-time employer the Kyodo News Agency. But being extremely humble, he still carried no sense of entitlement over his junior, and hence asked for an appointment to discuss Pakistan’s current security landscape.
Sure Shahid sahib, when will it be convenient for you to come over, I replied. Just let me know and I will be there for you, I said. We met the same day in the presence of his Japanese colleague for a chit chat on Pakistan and the endless Afghanistan imbroglio.
Ever since I departed from active journalism in December 2009, our contact had shrunken because of the different nature of work I had begun pursuing. We used to bump into each other every now and then but that was it. No detailed meetings except a few at his residence and of course ours, including when we had invited Lijian Zhao, the then Chinese deputy head of mission, or hosted our friend Asad Mufti from Amsterdam (in 2019).
Shahid sahib was indeed a kool and compassionate guy indeed – always radiating contentment with a glowing and smiling face.
I remember the days of the early 1990s, when I had no office in Islamabad; I would then barge into his office for logistical support. Shahid sahab had joined Kyodo in the early 1980s and had since become synonymous with the news agency.He was always forthcoming and accommodating, a thoroughly honest professional who earned fame also with his landmark book “Who Owns Pakistan,” which was the first compendium on Pakistan’s richest families.
We used to have enamoured conversations at the office of the German Press Agency – dpa – together with Anwaar Mansuri sahib, the bureau chief and also one of my few mentors. Memorable days of great learning from the two big names in professional journalism.
For Mansuri sahib, Shahid meant much more than a fellow journalist or a friend in the conventional meaning of the term.
“Today on April 16, 2020 I buried my soul-mate Shahidur Rehman with a heavy heart at H-11 graveyard. End of the world for him and the beginning of the half-life for me,” he noted, without losing his usual wit though.
Shahid Sahab had in fact suffered a massive heart attack the same morning which he couldnt survive.
Shinsaku Yokota, the Kyodo bureau chief in Islamabad, was also visibly shaken. He was like my father, have many words for him but unable to explain right now, Shinsaku replied with wet eyes, when I asked for his comments. In the typical Asian spirit and tradition, he went through all the last rites.
Shahid Sahab! your memories will always live and keep inspiring us. RIP
