the other column: Sir ji —Ejaz Haider
I don’t know where great writers go when they leave here, and KH was nothing if not one of them, but I am sure wherever it is, he would continue to enjoy what he cherished most in life — living it fully and humouring himself and others
Khalid Hasan, Sir ji to me, is no more. How does one mourn and remember; what does one write on such occasions? I really don’t know. I would have, perhaps, if I were a literary writer; at the minimum I would have known how to save the piece from being dolorous.
I write deadpan and that just doesn’t do in situations where thoughts and memories jump from one to another in no particular order, striking down the Aristotelian unities. There is no structure to these thoughts and I do not possess the merit of great writers who can make their selection with great aplomb, a trait KH possessed abundantly.
Khalid Hasan, Sir ji to me, is no more. How does one mourn and remember; what does one write on such occasions? I really don’t know. I would have, perhaps, if I were a literary writer; at the minimum I would have known how to save the piece from being dolorous.
I write deadpan and that just doesn’t do in situations where thoughts and memories jump from one to another in no particular order, striking down the Aristotelian unities. There is no structure to these thoughts and I do not possess the merit of great writers who can make their selection with great aplomb, a trait KH possessed abundantly.
posted by temporal at 2/08/2009
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