Asaf Ali Dar, Rest is Peace.

 چلے  گئے ہیں کہیں جن کے دم سے رونق تھی

شکستہ  حال  سا  خالی  مکان  باقی  ہے

آصف علی ڈار

 My last communication with him was in early October when he introduced me to the Facebook page of Ohio Literary Group. His last post was on December 7^th.  Then we heard that he is sick in hospital. And then came the news that Asaf Dar is no more. In our profession we know it always a commitment to a higher calling. It is ever more so these days. And so, he was called.

If I have only the acquaintance of Asaf Dar as my reward of countless hours and days over the years given to APPNA, it was worth it.

Asaf Dar was someone you would always see in APPNA meetings. Impeccably dressed, clean shaved, quiet, personable and looking much younger than his age, he was a regular fixture at the nightly sittings where there was music, jokes, banter, and gupshup. His participation was mostly as an appreciative member of the audience. He was revered by his colleagues. With time I found out. He was a mentor to many.

And in due course of time he became my mentor. He heard me reading poetry and initiated the conversation. He helped me learn the nuances of Urdu verse, in a very disarming way. His guidance was earnest and genuine. In the process we became closer friends. Due to differences of space and age I never knew him as much as I wished I had.

One of my more memorable moments with him was during one of APPNA meetings in San Francisco. We toured the Rock together as a part of trip. He had been under a lot of personal stress in time leading up to that. It took a lot of toll on him and he was off the main scene in APPNA for a while.

If APPNA has reached the level of a citadel and institution for Pakistani physicians in America, Asaf Dar is one of the lesser known pillars of it. He worked, more than anyone else I know, to provide a space for writers and literature lovers in APPNA.  While people get together in meetings to do all the good work the organization was known to do, there was an unmet need for the conducive and nurturing environment for arts and letters;  when there is a time to relax and loosen up a bit. Asaf Dar help provide that space.

Whether it was the magazine or the mushaira poetry sessions, APPNA owes him for setting a tradition, hard to emulate by any other organization in North America. He lobbied and eventually help establish the Annual Literary Award for an APPNA member. Starting in 2011 under his leadership, APPNA recognized literary figures amongst itself. The awardees include Amanullah Khan, Amjad Hussain, Abdul Rahman Abd and Latafat Hamzavi. He was awarded the same in 2017. The last recipient of the Award was Mansoor Hussain, awarded in 2019.

He strongly believed in encouraging the budding writers and acknowledging those who should be recognized. APPNA should recognize talent of its own, he stressed.

Reading over his poetry again, I celebrate his life and work. The title of ones works tell a lot about the writer. His first is Adhuri Kahanian, Unfinished Stories; and the second is Kaghzi Qandeelain Paper Candles.

 His verse is of a young man growing up in Lahore, with deep passion for his surroundings and his ancestral land of Kashmir, moving to Iran and then to USA. He remains young and passionate all along. His topics are diverse and his take is subtle.

A few of his verses:

The distance which always remains between two friends.

میرے  اس کے درمیاں کچھ فاصلہ ہر دم رہا

دوستی کی پائیداری کا یہی اک راز تھا

He talks about how he was confronted by a drunken physician in Iran who thought his job was stolen by Asaf and the likes, and the mysteriously found strength he mustered to stand up to him. Iran Main Nadaan ایران میں نادان

Puppy love between two kids in monsoon rain. Barish main beeghtay huway

بارش  میں بیگھتے ہوئے

اپنے گھروں سے دور کچھ

معصوم سے اک خواب میں

چھوٹے سے چھپر کے تلے

ساون کی اس بارش میں ہم

کچھ دیر تک بھیگا کئے

کچھ میں نے اس سے کہہ دیا

کچھ اس نے بھی مجھ سے کہا

پھر اپنی اپنی راہ کو

گھبرا کے دونوں ہو لیے

He must have spent some time in Multan in his childhood

مجھے ملتان جانا ہے

 

فرازِ دمدمہ

قاسم باغ کی پھلواریاں

صوفیانِ کرام کے مزار

حسین آگاہی بازار

حسن پروانہ کی سڑکیں

ابدالی روڈ پر واقع سکول

مرے بچپن کے دوست

مرے خوابوں میں آتے ہیں

مجھے واپس بلاتے ہیں

مجھے ملتان جانا ہے

Pain of living in a faraway land when someone closer to you is gone, and could not get the last gaze of the dying father:

والد مرحوم کی یاد میں

 

الوداعی اک نظر سے بھی رہا محروم میں

جاں فزا یادوں میں اس کی مسکراہٹ  رہ گئی

کر رہا تھا سائیں  سائیں گھر شبِ تاریک میں

بے کراں خاموشیوں میں میری آہٹ رہ گئی

 

Longing for Pakistan is all over his poetry.

Pakistan bulata hay

رات کی گہری خاموشی میں پاکستان بلاتا ہے

Main sheher kharabi main a to gaya

میں  شہر  ِ خرابی   میں  آ   تو  گیا

کئی رنگ چھوٹے سے گائوں میں تھے

 

And of course, Lahore

پر تمکنت سی خامشی لاہور پر رہے

ہم خاکِ راہ گزار میں ہوں گے یہیں کہیں

 

مدت سے دیکھتے ہیں خالی مکاں ہے ان کا

اس شہر سے  نہ  جانے کس شہر کو گئے ہیں

And I will end with the verse he stated his first book, after the Hamd and Salaam e Hussain

مری  کاوش ثمر آور  نہ  ہو شاید مرے جیتے

کہانی زندگی کچھ ادھوری رہ ہی جاتی ہے