By: Raphic Burdo

Some deaths are sudden. Others seem to occur gradually, long before the heart finally stops beating. The death of Pir Khalid Ahmed Qureshi feels like the latter.

Khalid was laid to rest on Monday, 24 August 2026, at Khyari Sharif (Mian Shora), Sakrand, in Shaheed Benazirabad, in the place that was not merely his ancestral home but the spiritual center of his family and a dargah (spiritual hospice) revered by followers far beyond his immediate surroundings.

Pir Khalid had joined Civil Service of Pakistan on 1st January 2001, as an officer of Pakistan’s Inland Revenue Service. A member of the 28th Common Training Program, he belonged to a generation of doctors and civil servants who entered public service with ambition, identity and a strong sense of professional purpose. But to reduce Khalid to his designation would be to miss the man that he was.

Those who knew him in his better years remember Pir Khalid as an exceptionally pleasant human being: courteous, warm, generous in conversation and, above all, ever smiling. That smile remained one of the most memorable things about him. Yet the last years of his life were very different. They became a succession of battles. There was the battle with a compulsive addiction. There was the battle with his health. There were battles over land, with neighbours and with members of his own family. There were professional frustrations and difficulties surrounding his postings. There were increasingly public disagreements that moved from private conversations into the unforgiving arena of social media. And beneath all of these battles was another, perhaps more important one: the battle to find a reason to keep going.

To understand Khalid, one has to understand the family from which he came. His father, the late Dr. Pir Noor Ahmed Qureshi, was a distinguished medical man. He was, according to family accounts, FRCS from London, a qualification representing a very high level of professional medical training and distinction. He was also associated with Peoples Medical College and served as its Principal in 2001. He died on 24 March 2021 and is buried within the courtyard of Dargah Khayari Sharif like most members of his family. Dr. Pir Noor Ahmed Qureshi’s generation represented a remarkable combination of worlds: modern professional education on one side and the spiritual and ancestral inheritance of Khyari Sharif on the other. That dual inheritance passed to his children.

Khalid entered the civil service. His brother Pir Shoaib Ahmed Qureshi entered the legal profession and became an advocate. Their lives therefore unfolded through institutions of the modern state, tax administration and law, while remaining connected to an older world of land, lineage, shrine and spiritual authority. That combination can be a source of enormous strength. It can also create enormous burdens. Because inheritance is not only about what one receives. It is also about what one feels obliged to protect.

Khyari Sharif

Khyari Sharif has never simply been land to Khalid and his family. It is identity. It was ancestry. It is memory. It is kind of part of faith. It was the place where generations of the family had lived, served and been remembered.

Historical accounts of Khiyari Sharif describe the spiritual influence of its Pirs over surrounding communities and villages. The institution therefore existed in a social world considerably larger than the immediate family. Today, the spiritual lineage continues through Pir Hammad Khiyarvi, the Gaddi Nasheen, according to the family and local account. That distinction is important.

A dargah is not merely a family property. It belongs, in a deeper sense, to the community of devotees who attach their hopes, prayers and memories to it. And that is why the conflicts surrounding Khalid’s family became so painful. When disagreements over land and inheritance entered the public arena, particularly through social-media platforms, the damage could not remain confined to the people involved. Private family disputes became public spectacle. Arguments that might once have been contained within the family were witnessed by strangers. And when the people involved are associated with a revered spiritual institution, the institution itself can become an unintended casualty.

The brothers

Much has been written and said publicly about the disagreements between Khalid and his brother Shoaib.

I knew enough of the circumstances to understand that the relationship had become deeply strained. There were disputes concerning property and family interests. There were disagreements with neighbouring landowners. There were matters that entered formal administrative and legal channels. Eventually, some of the family’s disputes spilled into social media. I do not think it is useful, after Khalid’s death, to reopen every allegation made by either side. Nor would it be fair. Death should not become another courtroom. What matters is that two brothers who shared a father, a family history and an extraordinary ancestral inheritance found themselves publicly divided.

The tragedy was not merely that they disagreed. It was that the disagreements became part of their identities. Once private conflict enters social media, reconciliation becomes much harder. Every argument acquires an audience. Every accusation acquires a permanent digital life. And every attempt at retreat can appear to be surrender. The wise person sometimes has to walk away from a fight not because he has lost, but because he has finally understood that winning is no longer worth the cost. I feel as if Khalid has been able to do that with his death. He simply walked away from all fights considering them not worth the cost.

A man unable to leave his Land

Over the years, I repeatedly advised Khalid to consider leaving the immediate environment of these conflicts. I suggested Islamabad or another city. There was also a practical reason. His wife is associated with Liaquat University of Medical & Health Sciences in Hyderabad/Jamshoro. Her professional commitments were therefore geographically rooted in Hyderabad, Sindh. A different posting might have created some distance between Khalid and the disputes surrounding his ancestral property. But Khalid could not easily detach himself from the land, Nawabshah and Hyderabad. He was deeply possessive of it, not necessarily merely in the material sense, but in the emotional sense in which ancestral land becomes inseparable from personal identity. I remember suggesting that the land could be divided among the brothers. Perhaps each could take his share. Perhaps the family could preserve its relationships even if it could not preserve every inch of common ownership. But Khalid found separation from the land extremely difficult. Looking back, one wonders whether the land that represented his deepest connection to his family also became the anchor that prevented him from escaping the conflicts that were consuming him.

The civil servant without a battlefield

There was another important dimension to Khalid’s decline. He was a civil servant. For a professional officer, a posting is not merely a place where one goes to work. It is part of one’s identity. It provides structure. It provides colleagues. It provides authority. It gives a person somewhere to be every morning and something to accomplish during the day. Pir Khalid experienced repeated transfers and difficulties in obtaining a stable and suitable posting. Eventually, he was placed in an administrative or surplus pool. I do not claim that this caused his decline. Nor can anyone responsibly reduce a complicated human life to a single administrative decision. But I do believe that the loss of professional purpose can be deeply damaging to someone whose identity has been built around public service. When there is no office to go to, no file to resolve, no team to lead and no professional problem demanding your attention, the mind can return to whatever problems remain unresolved at home. For Khalid, there were plenty. The land was still there. The family disagreements were still there. The neighbouring disputes were still there. The social-media battles were still there. And now there was less professional life to distract him from them. The battlefield had followed him to his home.

The accident

Then came the physical deterioration. A few months back, Khalid suffered a serious accident in which he injured his back and sustained other injuries, including significant problems. Over time, his physical condition subsequently deteriorated. There were medical complications, including elevated bilirubin and severe kidney dysfunction, eventually leading to organ failure. Whatever role his addiction may have played in the broader deterioration of his health, it would be simplistic to say that unhealthy habits alone explains his death. It does not. His story was much more complicated. He had been fighting addiction. He had been fighting physical injury. He had been fighting illness. He had been fighting family disputes. He had been fighting property disputes. He had been fighting professional uncertainty. And, increasingly, he seemed to be fighting the accumulated weight of his own circumstances. Eventually he and his body surrendered.

The last battle

Khalid died in the early hours of Monday 24 August 2026 and he was brought back to Khyari Sharif. There is a painful symmetry in that journey. He spent much of his later life fighting over the very place where he has now been laid to rest. But at the funeral, none of the arguments mattered. The land remained. The dargah remained. The family remained. The disputes remained. But their central participant, a protagonist, was gone. This is perhaps the most sobering lesson of Khalid’s life. We imagine that we are fighting for the land. We imagine that we are fighting for justice. We imagine that we are fighting for our rights. We imagine that we are fighting for our honour. Sometimes we genuinely are. But life has a cruel way of asking a final question: What did the fight cost? If the answer is peace, relationships, health and eventually life, then perhaps the victory was never worth having. This is why Khalid preferred surrendering over winning.

What should remain?

I do not want Pir Khalid to be remembered principally through the controversies of his final years. Those controversies were real but they were not the whole man. I remember the smiling officer. The friend who would call without hesitation when he needed help. The man who believed passionately in his land and his family. The man who remained attached to Khyari Sharif because it meant something far deeper to him than property. The man who, despite all his difficulties, retained something of the warmth and charm that had marked his earlier years. That is the Khalid I would prefer to remember. Perhaps his death should become an occasion not merely for mourning him, but for reconciliation among those who remain. His brothers have lost an elder brother. His wife has lost her husband. His family has lost a member. His friends have lost a friend. And Khyari Sharif has lost a son of its soil. There is no inheritance greater than reconciliation. If Khalid’s life can leave one final message to those who loved him, perhaps it is this: Do not spend the remainder of your lives fighting the battles that consumed his. Divide what can be divided. Forgive what can be forgiven. Withdraw from arguments that have become poisonous. Protect the dignity of the family. Above all, protect Khyari Sharif from becoming a monument to division when it has the potential to remain a sanctuary of faith and reconciliation.

Pir Khalid’s father, Dr. Pir Noor Ahmed Qureshi, left behind a legacy of medicine and service. Khalid leaves behind a more complicated legacy. A legacy that reminds us that intelligence, professional achievement, family inheritance and social standing cannot by themselves protect a human being from despair. Sometimes what saves us is much simpler. A friend who listens. A family that forgives. A purpose that survives retirement. The courage to walk away from a fight. And the humility to say: Enough.

Khalid’s battles are over now. May Allah forgive his shortcomings, accept his good deeds, grant him maghfirat and eternal peace, and give his wife, brothers, children, relatives and friends the strength to bear his loss. May Khyari Sharif, after all the noise and conflict that surrounded it, return to what it was meant to be: a spiritual hospice, a place of faith, peace, prayer and reconciliation. May Pir Khalid Ahmed Qureshi rest in eternal peace!

Read: Wealth and Leadership: Timeless Principles

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Raphic Burdo writes on leadership and entrepreneurship

The post The Man of Many Battles first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By: KHADIM HUSSAIN MAKHDOOM

Dr. Louis Flam was born on 31 October 1944 in the small town Passaic, New Jersey America, which even today has a population of around 75,000, with approximately 22% of Muslims. Louis lived in that town until the age of eight, after which his parents moved to the Clifton area of New Jersey, where he grew up. Louis earned his bachelor’s degree from Rutgers University. He later completed both his master’s degree and PhD in the United States. While pursuing his bachelor’s degree at Rutgers, he wrote his honors’ thesis on the Indus Civilization, which greatly impressed his professors. They encouraged him to pursue doctoral research on the Indus Civilization, a suggestion that he readily embraced. In 1967, he decided that he wanted to pursue a Ph.D. on the archaeology of Pakistan. In 1975, he received a Fulbright PhD scholarship in the United States. However, before beginning his doctoral research, he first visited Sindh in 1974 for two weeks with the cooperation of the Department of Archaeology of Pakistan. During this visit, he toured archaeological sites in western Sindh as well as several other sites across Pakistan. He lived in Sindh during 1975 and 1976, conducting research for his PhD, and returned to the United States in 1977 to complete his doctorate. The title of his dissertation was: “The Paleography and Pre-Historic Settlement Patterns in Sindh, Pakistan (Ca. 4000–2000 B.C.)” During his research, he travelled extensively—from Karachi to Sukkur, Thar to Kohistan and the Khirthar mountains. His objective was to continue the work of the Bengali archaeologist N. G. Majumdar, who, during the 1920s and 1930s, had discovered several archaeological sites in Sindh while investigating Mohenjo-daro and other contemporary settlements. Majumdar was later tragically shot dead by bandits near the Nai Gaj River in Dadu District of Sindh. Louis believed it was necessary to continue Majumdar’s work because, after Majumdar’s discoveries, only excavations at Amri by Casal and Kot Diji by Dr F. A. Khan had received significant archaeological attention. Apart from these, very little notable research had been conducted on Sindh’s ancient past. Therefore, in 1975, Louis resolved to rediscover Sindh, re-examine the sites discovered by Majumdar, and highlight their importance, believing that the significance of Sindh in the ancient world deserved far greater recognition. He was exceptionally courageous, travelling alone on a Honda CD-125 motorcycle, he journeyed from Karachi to Hyderabad, Umerkot, Sakrand, Kot Diji, Khairpur, Sukkur, Jacobabad, Larkana, Dadu, the Kachho region, Ghazi Shah, Nai Gaj, and back to Karachi, conducting field work for archaeological research throughout his travels.

Many contemporary researchers possess luxurious four-wheel-drive vehicles and research grants worth millions, they often produce mediocre research. In contrast, Louis conducted groundbreaking work with very limited resources. Throughout his research journey, Louis received tremendous love and support from the people of Sindh and from many prominent Sindhi scholars, including Dr. M. H. Rizvi, Pir Hussam Uddin Rashidi Dr. Ghulam Ali Alana, Nawabzada Shabbir Ahmed Chandio, Syed Ghulam Shah Jilani, Pir Ali Muhammad Rashdi, Begum Mumtaz Rashdi, Khan Muhammad Panhwar, Taj Sehrai, Syed Bakhsh Ali Shah of Jhangara, and Syed Atta Hussain Shah, among many others. Everywhere he travelled, ordinary Sindhis welcomed him warmly and generously assisted him. Louis later wrote that people would tell him, “Since you are working on the ancient archaeological sites of Sindh, so you are a ‘Son of Sindh.'” He took great pride in this title.

The author writes that the soil of Sindh possesses a unique quality that embraces every sincere and honest person. Louis came to Sindh merely to conduct research, but he fell deeply in love with the land, its people, culture, music, poetry, changing seasons, and the affection shown by the Sindhi people. Eventually, Sindh became like his own home. During his research in 1975 and 1976, he lived in Jamshoro and spent a considerable amount of time in Hyderabad. Although he did not know the Sindhi language, he became deeply fascinated by Sindhi music. Allan Faqir became one of his close friends and taught him his very first Sindhi words. Louis was also an enthusiastic admirer of the music of Abida Parveen, Faqir Abdul Ghafoor, Allah Bachayo Khoso, and Iqbal Jogi. He was equally captivated by Sindhi culture and greatly admired traditional handicrafts such as Ajrak, Khes, Ralli, and Susi cloth. Every spring he would visit the camel fair in Badin. One of his greatest wish was to learn Sindhi well enough to read Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai in the original language. Every year he visited Bhit Shah to listen to Shah’s traditional music.

Around 1975, when Hamida Khuhro organized a conference in Karachi entitled “Sindh Through the Centuries,” Louis also played an important role in it. In fact, he believed that the conference should have been titled “Sindh Through the Millennia,” which he felt better reflected Sindh’s long history. Thirty scholars specializing in history, archaeology, language, and culture presented research papers at the conference. Recognizing his deep love for Sindh’s history and archaeology, Ghulam Ali Alana appointed him as the first honorary Director of the Archaeological and Anthropological Research Centre at the Institute of Sindhology in 1982.

Louis often remarked that the Sindhi people’s love for their language, culture, and history was admirable. He observed that they took immense pride in scholarly research conducted on their heritage. He maintained close relationships with distinguished scholars including Dr Nabi Bakhsh Baloch, Taj Sehrai, Ghulam Ali Alana, Pir Hussam Uddin Rashdi, Hamida Khuhro, Ghulam Mustafa Shah, Ali Ahmad Brohi, M. H. Panhwar, Abdullah Waryah, Syed Hakim Ali Shah Bukhari, Hamid Akhund, Dur Mohammad Pathan and Syed Zafar Kazmi, benefiting greatly from their knowledge. Among his most important contributions was his research into the changing courses of the Nara River, documenting how it had shifted over the previous 10,000 years. He also researched how environmental changes in Sindh influenced human settlement patterns and lifestyles. Louis argued that Sindh’s prehistoric cultural and archaeological heritage was far richer than most people realized. He also studied ancient irrigation and canal systems, demonstrating their remarkable sophistication. He supported the theory that a highly developed, diverse civilization existed in Sindh approximately one thousand years before Mohenjo-daro. His research highlighted the environmental background of pre-Mohenjo-daro cultures and brought attention to the technological innovations and achievements of these ancient Sindhi societies, which he believed were unparalleled in the ancient world.

Another of his important projects was the excavation of Ghazi (Gaji) Shah Mound, also known as Mari Kharr Mound, in Johi Taluka, District Dadu. For this project, he established a collaborative partnership between the University of Pennsylvania, Colorado State University, the Institute of Sindhology at the University of Sindh, and the University of Karachi. He dated the Ghazi Shah site to approximately 5,500 years ago, suggesting that it had been inhabited between 3500 BCE and 2000 BCE. He also regarded the site as an ideal field school for Pakistani archaeology students, believing that Pakistan lacked sufficient archaeological researchers and expressing his desire to train a new generation of scholars devoted to archaeology, history, and culture. Whenever friends asked him why he had never married, he would reply that he had dedicated himself entirely to the study of Sindh’s ancient archaeology. He would jokingly once said that “it seemed unlikely any American woman would marry him and move to Sindh, though if he found someone in Pakistan, he would certainly marry”. He devoted the best years of his life to researching Sindh.

Returning to the United States in 1992, he taught for some time at Union College and Rutgers University, before becoming an Associate Professor in the Department of Anthropology at Lehman College, where he remained until the end of his career.

Over four decades, he carried out fieldwork in many regions, including Sistan Iran, Afghanistan (at the Sulaiman Tower and ruins), New Mexico (at the Eleanor Site and Chaco Canyon), Thailand (Ban Chiang), and archaeological sites on the islands of Kuwait.

Pity that, Pakistan failed to properly honour such a devoted admirer of the great Indus Civilization. Louis brought his PhD dissertation, “The Paleography and Pre-Historic Settlement Patterns in Sindh, Pakistan (Ca. 4000–2000 B.C.),” to Pakistan for publication. Although he could easily have published it in the United States, he believed that because it dealt with Sindh and Pakistan, it deserved to be published there, where local scholars and readers would have easier access to it. Sadly, he was unable to find a publisher anywhere in Pakistan willing to publish it. Even more disappointing, according to the author, was that the Institute of Sindhology—where Louis had been closely associated—declined to publish the thesis. Both of its then directors, Ghulam Ali Alana and Mehtab Akbar Rashdi, reportedly explained that many books were already waiting in the publication queue. The author questions whether such an important dissertation should not have been given priority over other publications.  Louis eventually returned to America with his dream of seeing his dissertation published in Pakistan unfulfilled. He had suffered from diabetes since childhood and died in the United States on 18 February 2016, at the age of 71, due to complications arising from the disease.

According to Dr Zafar Junejo, after Louis’s death, his room still contained Sindhi cultural artefacts, pottery, stones, and research materials relating to the history and archaeology of Sindh. The author concludes with regret that none of his research has been properly preserved in book form in Pakistan, suggesting that Louis’s spirit would perhaps still feel saddened that the appreciation he deserved was never fully given. If you’d like, I can also produce a polished, publication-quality English biography with smoother academic prose while preserving the original meaning.

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Writer is a sociologist and development professional based in Sindh, Pakistan, with a deep passion for the social history, archaeology, and cultural heritage of Sindh. He can be contacted at khadim_soomro@hotmail.com.

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• Deepa Mehta is more than a filmmaker; she is a storyteller of human experience whose work continues to provoke thought, evoke emotion, and inspire dialogue, leaving a lasting impact on global cinema and on the way stories of identity, history, and justice are told.

Kalavanti Raja

Deepa Mehta is one of the most fearless and intellectually compelling filmmakers of contemporary world cinema, an Indo-Canadian director and screenwriter whose work cuts across borders of geography, culture, and ideology, engaging deeply with questions of identity, gender, history, and human dignity, and over more than three decades she has built a body of cinema that is at once provocative, poetic, and profoundly humane.

Early Life, Birth, and Family Background

Deepa Mehta was born on 1 January 1950 in Amritsar, India, into a Punjabi family whose ancestral roots lay in Lahore, now in Pakistan, and her life story begins in the shadow of the 1947 Partition of India; her father Satwinder, a film distributor and cinema owner, exposed her early to the world of cinema, while her mother Vimla nurtured the household, and growing up amid stories of migration, loss, and cultural displacement deeply shaped her sensibility, which later found powerful expression in her films, particularly in her exploration of Partition and identity.

Education and Intellectual Formation

She pursued higher education at the University of Delhi, earning a degree in philosophy, a discipline that significantly influenced her cinematic voice, giving her films intellectual depth and moral inquiry, and later after moving to Canada in the 1970s she studied filmmaking and television production at York University and the Ontario College of Art and Design, where her early work in documentaries and television helped refine her observational style and commitment to realism.

Migration and Life in Canada

Her migration to Toronto marked a turning point in her life, as Canada became both her home and her creative base, allowing her to explore themes that might have been constrained in South Asia, and her dual identity as both Indian and Canadian gave her cinema a distinctive global perspective, blending cultural authenticity with universal human concerns.

Marriages, Family, and Personal Life

In her personal life, Deepa Mehta was first married to Canadian filmmaker Paul Saltzman during the 1970s, and from this marriage was born her daughter Devyani Saltzman in 1979, who later became a respected arts curator, writer, and cultural leader, and after their separation Mehta remained in Canada, later marrying British-Canadian cinematographer Derek Cowie, who became both her life partner and a key collaborator in her filmmaking journey, contributing to several of her major works, while her daughter Devyani also engaged deeply with her mother’s work, even writing a reflective book about the making of Water and their relationship.

Early Career and Entry into Cinema

Deepa Mehta began her career in Canada producing documentaries and television programs, gradually developing her voice as a filmmaker, and her first major breakthrough came with Sam & Me in 1991, which explored immigrant identity and earned recognition at the Cannes Film Festival, establishing her as a serious filmmaker capable of blending humor with social commentary.

Major Works and Filmography (Elements Trilogy)

Her defining contribution to cinema came through her Elements Trilogy—Fire, Earth, and Water—where Fire explored a lesbian relationship within a traditional Indian household and sparked intense protests and debates, Earth portrayed the human cost of the Partition of India with emotional depth and historical sensitivity, and Water examined the lives of widows in orthodox Hindu society, facing violent opposition during its production yet ultimately receiving international acclaim and an Academy Award nomination.

Other Major Works

Beyond the trilogy, Mehta created a diverse body of work including Bollywood/Hollywood, a satirical take on cultural identity, Heaven on Earth, which dealt with domestic abuse among immigrant women, Midnight’s Children, an adaptation of Salman Rushdie’s complex novel, Anatomy of Violence, inspired by the Delhi gang rape case and examining the roots of violence, and Funny Boy, a coming-of-age story centered on LGBTQ identity in Sri Lanka, all of which demonstrate her consistent engagement with social justice and human experience.

Recent Work and Ideological Evolution

Her recent work, particularly the documentary I Am Sirat, reflects a clear evolution in her ideological approach, moving from direct confrontation toward a more nuanced and empathetic exploration of identity, gender, migration, and memory, where her cinema now functions less as protest and more as a reflective medium encouraging dialogue and understanding, while still addressing structural inequalities and historical trauma.

Writing Style and Cinematic Language

Deepa Mehta’s writing and filmmaking style is marked by emotional realism, strong character development, symbolic depth, and philosophical undertones, as she often writes or co-writes her films, blending literary sensibility with visual storytelling to create narratives that are both intimate and socially resonant.

Controversies and Courage

Her career has also been defined by significant controversies, particularly surrounding Fire, which faced attacks and protests from conservative groups for its depiction of same-sex relationships, and Water, whose filming in Varanasi was violently disrupted, forcing relocation to Sri Lanka, yet despite these challenges she remained steadfast in her commitment to truthful storytelling, demonstrating remarkable courage and integrity.

Recognition and Awards

Her contributions to cinema have been widely recognized, including receiving the Padma Shri from the Government of India in 1998, along with honors at major international film festivals such as Cannes and Toronto, and continued global recognition including a major honorary award at the Singapore International Film Festival in 2026.

Visit to Pakistan (2026)

In February 2026, Deepa Mehta visited Pakistan to attend the 14th Lahore Literary Festival held at the Alhamra Arts Council in Lahore, where she participated in discussions on cinema, culture, and storytelling alongside prominent writers and intellectuals, and during her visit she also explored locations connected to her family’s past, including Government College University where her father had studied, making the trip deeply emotional as she reflected on memory, loss, and belonging linked to Partition.

Connection with Pakistan in Her Work

Her connection with Pakistan is also reflected in her work, particularly in Earth, which portrays pre-Partition Lahore and highlights the shared cultural heritage and human experiences that transcend political borders, reinforcing her role as a storyteller of South Asian history and identity.

Professional Circle and Collaborations

Throughout her career, Deepa Mehta has been supported and influenced by a network of collaborators including Paul Saltzman and Derek Cowie, as well as literary figures such as Salman Rushdie and Bapsi Sidhwa, whose works and ideas have contributed to the richness of her cinematic narratives.

Language and Audience

Her films are made in multiple languages, primarily Hindi and English, with regional languages incorporated where necessary to maintain authenticity, allowing her to reach both local and global audiences while preserving cultural nuance.

Personality and Intellectual Character

As a personality, Deepa Mehta embodies courage, intellectual depth, and artistic integrity, combining a fearless approach to difficult subjects with a deeply human and empathetic perspective, and her work reflects not a desire to provoke but a commitment to honesty and truth.

Legacy and Importance

Her legacy lies in her ability to challenge social norms, give voice to marginalized communities, bridge cultures, and transform historical and personal pain into meaningful narratives, establishing her as a feminist voice, a chronicler of memory, and a philosopher of cinema.

My Words

Ultimately, Deepa Mehta is more than a filmmaker; she is a storyteller of human experience whose work continues to provoke thought, evoke emotion, and inspire dialogue, leaving a lasting impact on global cinema and on the way stories of identity, history, and justice are told.

Read: The Pen That Spoke for Women

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Kalavanti Raja is a social and political activist from Gambat, Khairpur Mirs, with 30 years of work on women’s rights, minorities, and social justice. She has served in Sindhiyani Tahreek and participated in national and international forums across Asia, Europe, and America.. She can be reached at kalavanti.raja@gmail.com

The post Deepa Mehta: Voice of Courage first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Kalavanti Raja

Nasim Thebo (1 April 1948 – 19 March 2012) remains one of the most influential figures in modern Sindhi literature. Born in the village of Ghari (Thebo village) in Mehar taluka, Sindh, she was nurtured in a family deeply rooted in intellectual and cultural pursuits. Her father, Mir Abdul Baqi Thebo, was a respected local notable in Mehar, providing an environment that valued education, social awareness, and community engagement. Her mother, Begum Badam Natwan (Madam Thebo), hailed from Shikarpur, a historic center of Sindhi culture and learning. Begum Badam Natwan was herself a pioneering female writer, best known for her book “Khush Khaslat Khatoon”, which established her reputation in Sindhi literary circles and laid a foundation of literary consciousness in her children.

Nasim Thebo grew up surrounded by literature and progressive ideas. Her family was not only culturally active but also politically aware. She was the sister of Mir Thebo, a noted communist leader and progressive political activist in Sindh, whose work focused on social justice, equality, and grassroots mobilization. Her household, thus, combined a blend of literary refinement and political consciousness, shaping Nasim’s understanding of society and human psychology, which later became central to her writing.

In 1968, Nasim Thebo married the prominent politician Rasool Bux Palijo, a lawyer by training and founder of the Awami Tahreek, a progressive political party in Sindh. This union further embedded her in the social and political fabric of Sindh, though her writing remained largely independent and focused on human experiences rather than direct political commentary. From this marriage, she had two daughters: Tania Thebo (later Tania Saleem) and Anita Thebo (later Anita Aijaz Mangi).

Nasim Thebo pursued a professional career in academics. She served as Assistant Professor in the Department of Economics at the University of Sindh, contributing to education until her retirement in 2000. Alongside her academic work, she became a prominent literary figure, particularly recognized for her short stories. Her writing career peaked in the 1970s and 1980s, a period in which Sindhi literature was undergoing a modernist transformation. She wrote around 25 short stories, reflecting social realities, women’s inner lives, and human psychology. Her work was notable for its psychological depth, subtle critique of social norms, and rich exploration of female experience, distinguishing her as a writer who could convey profound social insights without overt political rhetoric.

Her most celebrated collection of short stories, “Ubhar Chand Pas Pireen”, was published posthumously in 2013 by the Sindhi Adabi Board, compiled by Deen Muhammad Kalhoro. The stories reveal the influence of her upbringing: the moral and intellectual grounding from her mother, the social awareness of her father, and the political consciousness present in her brother and husband’s lives. A significant part of her life was spent in Shikarpur, her mother’s ancestral city, and later she settled in the Sachal Goth area of Karachi after retirement, reflecting the trajectory of many educated Sindhi families who combined rural roots with urban professional lives.

Nasim Thebo passed away on 19 March 2012 at the age of 64. She left behind a legacy of literary sensitivity and social reflection, and she is remembered as a talented, thoughtful, and courageous voice in Sindhi literature. Her work, though relatively modest in volume, continues to influence writers and readers interested in women’s experiences, human psychology, and social realities in Sindh.

Professional and Educational Legacy

* Academic career as Assistant Professor, Department of Economics, University of Sindh

* Retired in 2000

* Literary contribution: 25 short stories, recognized for their psychological depth and social insight

Significance

Nasim Thebo represents a rare intersection of academic rigor, literary talent, and social awareness in Sindh. Her family exemplifies a multi-generational intellectual and cultural lineage—from her mother’s pioneering writing, through her own literary and academic accomplishments, to her daughters’ continued engagement with Sindhi culture and literature. Even decades after her passing, she remains a symbol of literary sensitivity, intellectual courage, and deep engagement with the human condition.

Read: The Pen That Spoke for Women

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Kalavanti Raja, based in Gambat (Khairpur Mirs) is a researcher on Sindh’s political movements and gender history. She can be reached at kalavanti.raja@gmail.com

The post Nasim Thebo: Life and Literature first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• She was the first woman in Sindhi literature to give essays the form of fiction. She left the old style of essay writing. She chose a new path

By Kalavanti Raja

In the wide river of Sindhi literature, the name of Badam Natawan shines like a quiet lamp. She was a brave, thoughtful, and creative woman. With her pen, she gave voice to the feelings, pains, and inner lives of women. She wrote in a new way. She wrote with courage. Her words still live in the heart of Sindhi letters.

Her Early Life and Family

Badam Natawan was born on 7 March 1924 in Shikarpur, Sindh. Some records also say she was born around 1930. Shikarpur was an old city of learning and books. She was born into a Mughal family. Her father’s name was Muhammad Hasan. Her mother was a strong influence in her life. Her mother worked as a headmistress in a school.

As a small girl, Badam loved books. She started reading early. She started writing early too. The world of words became her home.

She studied in Shikarpur. Later, she passed her Matriculation from Bombay University. She did not stop at school learning. She read widely. She thought deeply. She knew Sindhi, Urdu, Persian, and English. These languages gave strength and color to her writing.

The Story of Her Name

Her real name was “Badam.” People often asked, “Why Badam?” She gave a clear answer in an interview. The interview was published in the monthly magazine Adiyoon long ago.

She said, “In winter, Pashtun families came to Shikarpur from Quetta. Their daughters joined our school to study. Some of those girls had the name ‘Badam.’ My mother was the headmistress of the school. She liked that name. She chose ‘Badam’ for me.”

She chose her pen name herself. She took the name “Natawan.” Natawan means weak or frail. She said she chose it because society calls a woman natawan. She made that truth a part of her name. In literary circles, she became famous as “Badam Natawan.”

Her Kith and Kin

Badam Natawan built her own family with love and care. She married Abdul Baqi Thebo. He was a landlord from Mehar, Dadu.

Together they had seven children — five sons and two daughters. Two of her children became well known.

Her son Mir Thebo became a famous leader of the Pakistan Communist Party. He now lives in the USA.

Her daughter Naseem Thebo walked on her mother’s path. Naseem became a progressive Sindhi story writer. She filled Sindhi literature with her stories. Naseem married Rasool Bux Palijo, a famous Marxist-Leninist-Maoist leader.

Badam Natawan also had a sister she loved deeply. Her sister was Roshan Ara Mughal. Roshan Ara also wrote. She left a short but strong mark on Sindhi literature. When Roshan Ara died, Badam’s heart broke. She turned her grief into words. She published a magazine called Tuhnji Yaad Mein — “In Your Memory.” It was full of love, loss, and sorrow.

Her Books and Famous Stories

Badam Natawan’s pen never rested. She wrote with speed and with fire. She wrote about women’s morals, character, faith, courage, duties, and knowledge. She was the first woman in Sindhi literature to give essays the form of fiction. She left the old style of essay writing. She chose a new path. Her style was emotional. Her style was symbolic. She wrote about society’s problems in a way no one had tried before.

Shikasta Zindagi — “Broken Life” (1950) 

This was her first book. It came in two volumes. Each volume had 250 pages. For a woman writer at that time, this was a great feat. The book was published by Bashir Ahmad & Sons, Karachi. In this book, she wrote about broken dreams. She opened the inner world of women. She showed the hard face of society.

Khush Khaslat Khatoon — “A Woman of Good Character” (1956) 

This was her second major book. It was published by the Sindhi Adabi Board in 1956. The book held ten essays. Badam Natawan herself said about this book: “In writing this book, instead of ink, I have used the blood of my liver.” The Sindhi Adabi Board honored her. They gave her an award. The Board’s Secretary, Muhammad Ibrahim Joyo, sent her 200 copies of the book and the prize. At that time, this was rare praise for a woman writer.

The scholar Syed Miran Muhammad Shah reviewed the book. He wrote: “This work is far better than the previous ones… For such effort and perseverance, this lady deserves praise and congratulations.”

Qalbi Ujj — “The Thirst of the Heart” (1966) 

This was her third book. It was published in 1966 by Moulvi Muhammad Azeem & Sons, an old publisher in Shikarpur. This book showed the best of her pen. The great scholar Allama I. I. Kazi wrote his opinion on it. His praise gave her work high honor.

In this book, her essays burn with passion and zeal. She looked at society with the eye of a poet. She saw the evil around her. She picked up her pen and wrote with truth. She told women to walk on a spiritual path. She told them to fulfill Huqooq Allah, the rights of God. She told them to fulfill Huqooq-ul-Ibad, the rights of people. She told them to push ignorance away. She told them to light the lamp of knowledge.

Her books show deep study. She used quotes from Persian, English, Arabic, and Sindhi literature. She used verses and stories. She made her essays rich and beautiful.

Other Important Works 

She wrote more books. Three of them are still unpublished. Their names are:

• Nimani Nar or Namani Naar — “The Helpless Woman”
• Khalwat Mein — “In Solitude”
• Runam Rat Phura or Runam Rut Phira — “Tears of Blood Drops”

These books look deep into a woman’s heart. They show her pain. They show how society treats her. These books should be published. The world should read them.

She also wrote many stories and essays. All of them speak of a woman’s life. They speak of her courage. They speak of her silence. They speak of her strength.

Her Place in Sindhi Literature

Badam Natawan did work that no one can forget. She woke up the women of her time. She called them toward knowledge. She called them toward books. She wrote for their rights. And through her writing, she earned her own place.

There was a time when Mohtarma Zeenat Abdullah Channa wrote much in Nain Zindagi and other magazines. People were amazed by her. In those same days, Badam Natawan rose from Shikarpur. She gave advice to women. She wrote for their rights. Her talent came before all eyes.

As her books came one by one, people saw her deep study. People saw her sharp eye. Her writings took an important place in Sindhi literature. At the same time, her words reached the women of Sindh. Those women who could read books found truth in her pages. They found courage. They found knowledge. They found counsel. Because of her, many women learned to stand for their duties. They learned to ask for their rights.

Her style was new. She made essays look like stories. She filled them with feeling. She filled them with meaning. This was a new test in Sindhi writing.

Her Final Years and Legacy

Badam Natawan’s pen ran fast. But just as fast, we forgot her. This is a sad truth. Her work should be in school books. It should be taught in colleges. It should be taught in universities. But this did not happen. Her books are not easy to find today. Her life story is not fully safe. Her unpublished books are still waiting for light.

This is a loss for Sindhi literature. She gave her life to books and to society. Yet we did not keep her memory as we should.

Badam Natawan died on 8 February 1988. She died in Shikarpur, her own city. She left this world. But she left her words behind.

Today, her name is a bright chapter in the story of Sindhi women’s writing. She was a daughter of Shikarpur. She was a mother of brave children. She was a teacher for all women. She was a light for all who read.

Her work tells us to be strong. Her work tells us to be true. Her work tells us to learn, and to teach.

Read: Restoring Democracy: Leadership, Strategy

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Kalavanti Raja, based in Gambat (Khairpur Mirs) is a researcher on Sindh’s political movements and gender history. She can be reached at kalavanti.raja@gmail.com

The post The Pen That Spoke for Women first appeared on Sindh Courier.

• To generations of Petarians, Coombes is more than a founding principal—he is a formative presence, almost mythic in stature.

By Raphic Burdo

Sindh is a land of paradoxes. Across its cities, towns, and villages, one encounters institutions, roads, and public spaces named after figures whose contributions to the region are, at best, contested and, at times, deeply problematic. Meanwhile, those who quietly and diligently laid the foundations of modern Sindh often fade into obscurity, their names absent from the markers of public memory. Yet history resists erasure. However selectively it may be recorded, it endures in lived experience, in institutional culture, and in collective memory.

One such figure is Colonel John Harold Henry Coombes—a man whom official narratives have largely overlooked, but whose legacy continues to shape generations. Nowhere is this more evident than at Cadet College Petaro.

The year 1947 marks both independence and rupture. For Sindh, the Partition of British India triggered a profound demographic and intellectual shift. The migration of a large segment of the Hindu community—many of whom formed the backbone of the province’s educational and commercial life—left a vacuum that proved difficult to fill. Institutions once sustained by experienced educators and administrators struggled to adapt. Rural Sindh, in particular, experienced a sustained decline in educational quality, with long-term consequences for social mobility and institutional development.

Yet decline is rarely the final chapter. In response to this crisis, the government of the time conceived a bold intervention: the establishment of a premier residential institution that could cultivate discipline, leadership, and intellectual rigor among the youth of Sindh. Thus emerged Cadet College Petaro—a boarding institution with a military ethos, designed not merely to educate, but to shape character.

Located in the austere, rugged landscape of Jamshoro, the college might never have attained its stature without the leadership of Colonel Coombes. An Oxford-educated scholar and a veteran of the Second World War, Coombes brought with him not only academic distinction but also a deeply internalized sense of discipline forged under extreme conditions, including his time as a prisoner of war in Singapore. These experiences were not incidental; they were formative, and they found expression in the institutional culture he built.

To generations of Petarians, Coombes is more than a founding principal—he is a formative presence, almost mythic in stature. Stories of his life and conduct circulate across cohorts, passed from one generation to the next. He was known to value character over credentials, once remarking that he was less interested in producing “First Divisions” than in shaping “real men.” At the core of his philosophy was an unwavering belief in a Code of Honour—a moral framework he considered indispensable to the making of responsible citizens.

His attention to detail was legendary. He nurtured the physical environment of the college as carefully as its intellectual one, personally tending to its greenery and landscape. His famously small handwriting—rumored to have developed during his years of captivity, when discretion was a necessity—became part of institutional folklore. Even in retirement, his attachment to the college endured; he named his home in Kent “Petaro,” a quiet testament to the depth of his identification with the institution.

Coombes assumed charge as principal in 1958, when the college was still operating from its temporary campus in Mirpurkhas. He oversaw its relocation in 1959 to its permanent 900-acre site in Petaro, where he laid down the structural and cultural foundations, until 1965 that continue to define it. He introduced the house system, established a rigorous daily routine, and embedded a culture of meritocracy and discipline that remains intact decades later.

His leadership style was exacting but principled. Anecdotes abound—one recounts how, after a personal accident, he arrived at the college on time and gently rebuked a student’s concern, reminding him that duty must not be interrupted by sentiment during working hours. Such stories, whether embellished over time or not, reflect a consistent ethos: professionalism, integrity, and an almost ascetic commitment to purpose.

Today, Cadet College Petaro has evolved into a self-contained academic township, complete with residential facilities, healthcare, sports infrastructure, and advanced laboratories. Its curriculum has expanded beyond the traditional Matriculation and F.Sc. streams to include international qualifications, enabling students—many from rural backgrounds—to compete on a global stage.

Since 1975, the institution has been administered under the patronage of the Pakistan Navy, reinforcing the culture of discipline that Coombes first institutionalized, while the Government of Sindh has remained a key financial supporter. Over the decades, the college has produced a distinguished alumni network, including senior military officers, civil servants, political leaders, and professionals across diverse fields. Among them are Asif Ali Zardari and Dr. Asim Hussain, alongside numerous figures who have shaped Pakistan’s administrative and professional landscape.

Equally significant is the college’s contribution to academia. Its tradition of teaching excellence—carried forward by dedicated educators—reflects a continuity of purpose that extends beyond individual leadership. The emphasis on multidimensional development has produced not only competent professionals but also individuals capable of navigating complexity with resilience and ethical grounding.

Colonel Coombes did not merely establish an institution; he cultivated an ecosystem of discipline, integrity, and aspiration. In the stark hills of Jamshoro, Cadet College Petaro stands as a reminder that visionary leadership, combined with institutional rigor, can transform structural disadvantage into enduring excellence.

His recognition may remain limited in official narratives, but in the lived history of the institution he built, his presence is unmistakable—and, perhaps, indelible.

Read: Remembering A Rebel

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(Raphic Burdo served as a teacher of English at Cadet College Petaro, 1996–97.)

The post Cadet College Petaro: Legacy of Col. Coombes first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Nazarul Islam | USA

Sadr al-Din Muhammad b. Ibrahim b. Yahya Qawami Shirazi (ca. 1571–1636) is arguably the most significant Islamic philosopher after Avicenna. Best known as Mulla Sadra, he was later given the title of Sadr al-Muta’allihin (Master of the theosists) for his approach to philosophy that combined an interest in theology and drew upon insights from mystical intuition. He considered philosophy to be a set of spiritual exercises and a process of theosis, a pursuit of wisdom whose goal was to acquire wisdom and become a sage, and hence become godlike.

Sadra, the greatest scholar had championed a radical philosophical method that attempted to transcend the simple dichotomy between a discursive, ratiocinative mode of reasoning and knowing, and a more intuitive, poetic and non-propositional mode of knowledge. He became famous as the thinker who revolutionized the doctrine of existence in Islamic metaphysics. By critiquing an Aristotelian metaphysics which assumed that the basic stuff of reality was constituted by substances, he initiated a (Neoplatonic) process metaphysics of change, founded upon and moved by acts of being.

A keen thinker who wrote works in philosophy, theology, mysticism, and scriptural exegesis, he attempted a wide-ranging synthesis of approaches to Islamic thought and argued for the necessity of the method of understanding reality through a mixture of logical reasoning, spiritual inspiration, and a deep meditation upon the key scriptural sources of the Twelver Shi‘i tradition in Islam. Having a holistic approach to philosophical inquiry, his understanding of the pursuit of wisdom included scriptural hermeneutics and exegesis as well as theological reasoning.

A key figure of a group of thinkers whom Nasr and Corbin referred to as the “School of Isfahan”, he played a major role in intellectual life during the revitalization of philosophy under the Safavid Shah ‘Abbas I (r. 996–1038 AH/1588–1629 CE) and later on in life was the most important teacher at the philosophical seminary known as Madrasa-yi Khan in his hometown of Shiraz. Since the early 19th century, the thought of Mulla Sadra has become the dominant philosophical paradigm in the Shi‘i seminary in the Islamic East and was also widely influential in South Asia

One of the greatest Islamic scholars Mullā Ṣadrā is considered an outstanding Persian ‘theosopher’ in modern Islamic thought who had flourished under the Safavid dynasty. The learned Islamic scholar has remained little known to Western readers. Was it prejudice that distanced him from the Western world’s contemporary religious scholars?

Ask someone from Europe or North America to name a philosopher and they might say Socrates, Plato, or Aristotle; perhaps Descartes, Leibniz, Kant, Marx, or Nietzsche. Ask them to name an Islamic philosopher, and you may be met with silence. At a stretch, they might have heard of Avicenna (a Latinisation of Ibn Sīnā), the most famous scholar of the Islamic Golden Age (from the eighth to the 13th century AD). Yet there is one thinker in particular whose relative obscurity in the West belies his significance not just to Islamic philosophy but to global intellectual history.

Despite being widely considered the greatest philosopher in modern Islamic thought, the Persian ‘theosopher’ Mullā Ṣadrā (1571-1635), who flourished under the Safavid dynasty, is little known to non-specialist Western readers. Ṣadrā was a philosophical polymath, expert in a stunning range of intellectual fields, including Aristotelian metaphysics, Greek Peripatetic philosophy and Neoplatonic ontology; Persian Illuminationism (ḥikmat al-ishrāq), Sufi mysticism, the Twelver Shīʿī tradition and Qurʾānic hermeneutics.

His most important work, al-Ḥikmah al-mutaʿāliyah fī al-asfār al-ʿaqliyyah al-arbaʿah (The Transcendent Philosophy of the Four Journeys of the Intellect, known as Asfār), synthesised a dazzling array of disciplines and methods into an epistemological summa, as influential on Islamic philosophy as Thomas Aquinas’s Summa Theologica (1225–74) or Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason (1781, rev. 1787) were on Western thought.

Yet Ṣadrā also pioneered his own method of philosophy that blended discursive reasoning and the rational contemplation of abstract concepts with what is known in the Islamic tradition as spiritual ‘wayfaring’ (sulūk), a term describing the philosopher’s personal, intuitive, esoteric, mystical and spiritual journey towards truth. Al-ḥikmah al-mutaʿāliyyah (usually translated as ‘transcendent philosophy’, ‘transcendent wisdom’ or ‘transcendent theosophy’) was the name Ṣadrā gave to his system. His major contribution to metaphysics and ontology was to argue for the primacy of existence (aṣālat al-wujūd) rather than the primacy of essence or quiddity (aṣālat al–māhiyyah), which had been the philosophical orthodoxy for centuries.

As Ṣadrā put it in Shawāhid al-rubūbiyya (The Divine Witnesses), a summary of the major questions explored in Asfār: ‘Existence deserves more than anything to have a reality because it is through existence that what is other than being has a reality […] existence is that by which everything that is real gets its reality.’

From that insight, Ṣadrā developed his theory of the gradation or modulation of existence (tashkīk al-wujūd), based on a hierarchy and emanation of existence, beginning with the perfection of the Necessary Being (wājib al-wujūb) and flowing through everything that exists. Ṣadrā thus attempted to resolve the ancient philosophical problem of the relationship between unity and multiplicity by arguing that the whole of existence is One – in harmony with the central Islamic concept of tawḥīd or ‘oneness’ (of God) – yet differentiated according to various degrees, modulations, grades and intensities of existential perfection and imperfection.

In order to grasp Ṣadrā’s place in intellectual history, it is crucial to understand that the Western notion of philosophy as a secular practice aimed at knowledge divorced from revelation is virtually nonexistent in Islamic philosophy. ‘Analytic’ philosophy, for instance, would be considered by Persian thinkers as ‘weaving’ (bāftan); a form of ‘mental gymnastics’ rather than the discovery of truths (yāftan al-ḥaqq) about experience, knowledge, and reality. As Seyyed Hossein Nasr argues in his Islamic Philosophy from its Origins to the Present (2006), the ‘rapport between philosophy and prophecy’ has deep historical roots.

Nasr credits prophecy – meaning the attempt to understand ‘higher or deeper orders of reality’ rather than mere clairvoyance – with the ‘genesis of Greek philosophy’ in Parmenides and Pythagoras. By this logic, the centrality of prophecy is not peculiarly Islamic, but is at the heart of the world’s great spiritual traditions, from Hinduism and ancient Egyptian mythology to Buddhism, as well as the Abrahamic religions of the book that have shaped the intellectual culture of the West.

We also need to view Ṣadrā’s work in the context of the historical and cultural cross-currents between Western and Eastern thought that determined the development of Islamic philosophy. Ṣadrā’s Asfār marks the apotheosis of the tradition of the grand synthesis, an approach that gathered pace after Shihāb al-Dīn Suhrawardī (1154-91) founded the School of Illumination, combining rational philosophy, gnosis (‘irfān), mysticism, revelation, and exegesis (tafsīr) into a comprehensive metaphysical and ontological system.

Ṣadrā’s synthetic achievement should be placed in the context of an earlier controversy: the traditional (and often bitter) division between practitioners of kalām and those of falsafa (a loanword from the Greek ‘philosophy’). Kalām, usually translated as ‘theology’, is a school of thought closely focused on doctrinal and legal debates and defending the tenets of Islam with reference to the Qurʾān and the teachings of the Prophet Muhammad. Meanwhile, ḥikmat (‘wisdom’) or falsafa, as its name suggests, sought to reconcile and integrate the teachings of Plato, Aristotle and their Muslim interlocutors with the Islamic revelation. The division between these two approaches structured much post-classical Islamic philosophy.

Early Islamic philosophers such as al-Kindī (c.801-873) and al-Fārābī (c.870-951) had been content to adapt and develop the insights of the Greek tradition alongside the teachings of the Qurʾān. But Muhammad ibn Idrīs al-Shāfiʿī’s (767-820) al-Risālah (The Treatise) argued that Islamic philosophy should be based only on Islamic ʾuṣūl: ‘sources’ or ‘roots’ of knowledge. For al-Shāfiʿī, the Qurʾān, sunnah and ḥadīth (the records of Muhammad’s words, deeds and teachings) were the only legitimate ground or burhān (‘proof’) of knowledge. As a result of this ‘usulisation’, falsafa and ḥikmat – whether more adventurously rational or concerned with spiritual wayfaring – were marginalised because they were grounded in non-Islamic sources.

The debate between kalām and ḥikmat shifted throughout the centuries in response to changing political and intellectual developments, veering between rivalry and rapprochement. By necessity, proponents of each school became experts in the ‘other’ discipline, resulting in many hybrid works. But the division is neatly encapsulated in perhaps the most famous exchange in Islamic philosophy. Abū Hāmid al-Ghazzālī’s (1058-1126) Tahāfut al-Falāsifah (The Incoherence of the Philosophers) launched a polemical attack on the metaphysics of the falsafa tradition, above all the work of Ibn Sīnā and al-Fārābī, and argued for the priority of faith over reason.

In turn, the Andalusian polymath Ibn Rushd (1126-98, known in the West as Averröes or simply ‘The Commentator of Aristotle’) responded with Tahāfut al-Tahāfut (The Incoherence of the Incoherence), a cheeky play on the title of al-Ghazzālī’s work. Ibn Rushd defended the use of Aristotelian philosophy and ijtihād (independent reason) and argued for a synthesis with Islam, thus influencing the later medieval Christian preoccupation with reconciling Aristotelian metaphysics and natural philosophy with the Bible.

By the time Ṣadrā was born into a courtly family in Shiraz in 1571, Persian philosophy was dominated by the School of Illumination based on the teachings of Suhrawardī, and the philosophical kalām of Naṣīr al-Dīn al-Ṭūsī (d. 1274). Ṣadrā’s life spanned the reign of two of the most important Safavid rulers, Shāh ʿAbbās I (reigned 1587-1629) and Shāh Ṣafī (reigned 1629-42).

The Safavids oversaw a period of remarkable cultural efflorescence in which Twelver Shīʿah Islam – made the official religion of the Persian empire in the early 16th century by the dynasty’s founder, Shāh Ismāʿīl I – became the wellspring of philosophical, theological, gnostical and mystical works in the Islamic world. Indeed, the association between Shīʿah Islam and philosophy was established, given that ʿAlī ibn Abī Ṭālib, the cousin, son-in-law and (according to the Shīʿah) rightful successor to Muhammad, pioneered both kalām and spiritual wayfaring.

After receiving his initial education from his father, Ṣadrā moved first to Qazvin and then onto Isfahan in central Persia. Under the tutelage of the great scholar Mīr Dāmād, the leading intellectual light of Safavid Persia at that time and the founder of the School of Isfahan, Ṣadrā studied philosophy, theology, ḥadīth, Illuminationism, Ibn Sīnā’s Peripatetic philosophy, and the Theology of Aristotle, a ninth-century Arabic interpretation of Plotinus’ third-century Six Enneads (but then thought to be by Aristotle).

Ṣadrā’s career was far from smooth, however. He returned to Shiraz but failed to find patronage. Seeking deeper insights into reality, he retreated for five years to the village of Kahak near the holy city of Qom for a period of intense meditation and wayfaring, which formed the basis of Asfār. Ṣadrā resumed his travels, maintaining a lifelong correspondence with Mīr Dāmād (despite rejecting his tutor’s argument for the primacy of essences) and teaching students who became influential philosophers and poets in their own right, such as Mullā Muḥsin Fayḍ al-Kashānī (1598–1679) and ʿAbd-Al-Razzāq Lāhījī (d. c. 1662). In 1630, Ṣadrā returned to settle in Shiraz to teach at the Madrasa-ye Khan, earning renown as a scholar, educator and philosopher. He died in Basra during his seventh pilgrimage to Mecca.

The genius of Ṣadrā’s work was to interlock the doctrinal rigour of kalām with the more speculative and mystical insights of illumination (ishrāq) and the esoteric and elliptical wisdom of gnosis (‘irfān), and to combine the rationalism of the Peripatetic Aristotelian tradition with the Neoplatonic exploration of hidden higher realities. Yet Ṣadrā still came into conflict with the practitioners of kalām (mutakallimūn) throughout his career. He criticised them, for instance, in Si aṣl (Three Principles) for ‘wear[ing] the dress of deception and hypocrisy and the robe of trickery’. Ṣadrā maintained that ‘the way to reach certainty (yaqīn) in the inquiry into religious truths and the inner meanings of the teachings of the Prophet … is not through discussions of kalām and disputations’.

Instead, Ṣadrā argued, truth must be pursued ‘through the acquiring of inner and intuitive knowledge’ and ‘the rejection of worldly and base things’. Such asceticism is no accident but forms a major part of Ṣadrā’s ‘transcendent philosophy’, in harmony with the Shīʿī focus on the esoteric (inner, spiritual knowledge known only to the enlightened or illuminated few) rather than the exoteric (outer, worldly, everyday kinds of knowledge).

Ṣadrā thought that disputations about kalām and fiqh (jurisprudence), ‘whose origin is the desire for fame and social prestige’ and ‘to rule and control the servants of god’, were exoteric because worldly and materialistic. Asceticism is key to truth, then, because a rejection of earthly pleasures, powers and fame paves the way for the unalloyed spiritual and metaphysical reflection necessary to attain esoteric knowledge. The philosopher cannot embark on spiritual wayfaring if they are weighed down by the impurities and vanities of worldly concerns.

Yet the historian of Islamic philosophy Cécile Bonmariage points out that ‘Pure inspirations are not Ṣadrā’s goal’. Ṣadrā himself says in Shawāhid that the wayfarer is akin to a deep-sea diver bringing ‘pearls’ from ‘the bottom of wisdom’s sea to the shore of demonstrative exposition’. One of his key insights, then, is that the pursuit of truth must unite reason and revelation, intellect and illumination, sapientia and spirituality.

It is difficult to overstate Ṣadrā’s impact on Islamic philosophy and the intellectual culture of the Muslim world, especially in Shīʿī circles. Nasr says that ‘kalām soon became eclipsed completely in Persia with the revival of ḥikmah, especially of the school of Mullā Ṣadrā’, who is ‘without doubt the greatest of the later Islamic philosophers and perhaps the most outstanding among all Islamic philosophers in the field of metaphysics’.

Nor did Ṣadrā’s influence wane after the expiration of the Safavid dynasty, for he profoundly influenced Hādī Sabzavārī (1797-1873), the most renowned philosopher of the Qajar period. And, as Amjad Naqavi, Dean of The Shīʿah Institute in London, notes in his 2015 translation of Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s Sirr al-ṣalat (The Mystery of Prayer), the leader of the Iranian Revolution was steeped in Ṣadrā’s Asfār and took ‘spiritual wayfaring towards the divine’ as a central organising principle of his thought.

There are also resonant connections between Ṣadrā and Western philosophy. In his Discourse on Metaphysics (1686), Gottfried Leibniz argued ‘created substances depend upon God, who preserves them and who even produces them continually by a kind of emanation’, echoing Ṣadrā’s account in Asfār of the emanation and modulation of existence from the Necessary Being. Ṣadrā’s attempt to forge a comprehensive system of ontology and metaphysics grounded in the concept of wujūd also anticipated Martin Heidegger’s Being and Time (1927).

In exploring the meaning of being and confronting the problem that being is at once the most universal and self-evident and yet paradoxically indefinable concept, Heidegger took up Ṣadrā’s mantle and the long tradition of the philosophy of existence (wujūd) that shaped Islamic philosophy from the classical period onwards.

By defining time as inherent to the world’s constant motion, Mulla Sadra concluded the following:

The world is temporally originated because every single instant of its existence is a new creation from God. Non-existence precedes existence at every moment of change.

The world is also “eternal” in the sense that the process of creation is continuous and unending, without a static, prior state of non-existence in an external, independent time frame.

This innovative approach allowed him to uphold the theological position of God’s continuous creation (creatio ex nihilo at each instant) while providing a complex philosophical explanation that incorporated aspects of the philosophers’ arguments regarding the necessary and continuous link between the Divine Cause and the world of nature.

Mulla Sadra has addressed the long-standing debate between Islamic theologians (who argued the world was created in time, huduth zamani) and Peripatetic philosophers (who argued for the world’s eternity, qidam dahri) by using his theory of Substantial Motion (ḥarakat jawhariyyah) to propose a new, synthetic solution.

Mulla Sadra’s influence on his immediate students, including his sons-in-law, Fayz Kashani and Lahiji, owed more to the mystical aspect of his works. As for his philosophical doctrines, he was only followed by the less famous among his students such as Husayn Tunikabuni  (d.1693). Especially, in the late Safavid period due to the intellectually suppressive atmosphere created by influential clerics, most prominently Muhammad Baqir Majlisi (d. 1198), philosophical and particularly mystical thoughts were antagonized by the ruling system and the clerics alike.

Nevertheless, the legacy of the philosopher was kept alive until, in the Qajar period (c. 1785-1925), a more welcoming attitude facilitated the revival of his works in the hands of his followers who worked as Sadrian scholars. In addition to editing and expounding the latter’s works, as teachers they also initiated a chain of scholars that has continued until today. Among contemporary scholars and Sadrian philosophers, Muhammad Husayn Tabataba’i (d. 1981) is one of the most widely read. His books, which are based on Mulla Sadra’s philosophy with some modifications, are still being taught as compendiums of Islamic philosophy at the departments of philosophy in Iran.

Mulla Sadra studies particularly flourished after Iran’s Islamic Revolution of 1979. Since then, he has been widely taught both at the religious seminaries and universities with governmental funds supporting the foundation of institutes and international conferences. Among these, Sadra Islamic Philosophy Research Institute, established in 1994 in Tehran, and the World Congress on Mulla Sadra in 1999 are the best examples.

After Mulla Sadra’s death, India was the first place outside Iran to show his influence. A remarkable number of expositions and commentaries have been written on one of his marginal works called Commentary on Sharh al-Hidayah in India where it has been taught as a course book of Islamic philosophy for several centuries. Later, the Shi’i seminaries of Iraq in the city of Najaf and some influential thinkers in Pakistan also welcomed Mulla Sadra’s philosophy.

Mulla Sadra was introduced into the West at the end of the nineteenth century by the German orientalist, Max Horten (d. 1945) with an emphasis on the mystical aspect of the philosopher’s work. Later during 1960’s and 70’s, the collaboration of the French scholar Henry Corbin (d. 1978) with Toshihiko Izutsu (d.1986 ) from Japan and Seyyed Hossein Nasr (b. 1933) from Iran, led to a full-fledged introduction of Mulla Sadra into Western academia as part of a wider project of reviving “perennial wisdom”.

Following their work, Mulla Sadra has been translated, taught, and discussed in academic journals and circles both in Europe and North America. The contemporary generation of Mulla Sadra scholars, though approaching Mulla Sadra from different points of view, are illuminating various aspects of the philosopher’s work.

Read: Is Liberty the same as Independence?

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The Bengal-born writer Nazarul Islam is a senior educationist based in USA. He writes for Sindh Courier and the newspapers of Bangladesh, India and America. He is author of a recently published book ‘Chasing Hope’ – a compilation of his articles.

The post A Homage to Philosopher Mulla Sadra first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Saima Manganhaar

Sindhiyani Tehreek was not formed suddenly; its creation is deeply connected to the vision and efforts of the great revolutionary leader, Rasool Bux Palijo. His encouragement and motivation gave birth to a movement that produced determined, brave, and well-trained women leaders who represented the true spirit of Sindh. Unlike elite women’s organizations where privileged women in expensive clothes and adorned with costly accessories raised slogans for rights, Sindhiyani Tehreek emerged from the grassroots. It was formed by women from peasant and labor classes who provided leadership with profound respect and devotion, representing the marginalized sections of society.

The necessity for such an organization arose from the dire need to unite Sindhi women for their fundamental rights. On November 26, 1982, aware and organized women from across Sindh gathered in Rahooki and laid the foundation of Sindhiyani Tehreek. Before its formation, some organizations led by educated women existed, but they often expanded the concept of anti-man struggles, which failed to address the real issues of Sindhi women. In Sindh, both men and women have long been victims of oppression; therefore, without joining hands and fighting together, neither could achieve freedom from slavery. Sindhiyani Tehreek organized programs with men to stand against all forms of social injustice, including national, class-based, and democratic inequalities.

The birth of Sindhiyani Tehreek coincided with the peak of martial law under Zia-ul-Haq’s dictatorship, making its establishment a powerful slap on the face of tyranny. When the Movement for the Restoration of Democracy (MRD) began on August 14, 1983, Sindh became its focal point. During this struggle, when Awami Tehreek workers were arrested and subjected to brutal punishments, Sindhiyani Tehreek did not remain silent spectators; they rose in protest, helping secure the release of political prisoners. Their activism continued with cultural and political engagements, such as celebrating Jashan-e-Latif in Karachi on June 19, 1986, where urban audiences were astonished to see rural women speaking with courage and grace. They actively participated in sessions organized by Hari Tehreek and Sindhi Shagird Tehreek, strengthening their alliance with other progressive fronts.

Sindhiyani Tehreek’s resilience was evident when they protested the assassination of Fazul Rahoo on January 17, 1987, leaving imperial agents confounded. Their annual convention on July 10, 1987, in Shahpur Chaakar witnessed participation from over ten thousand women. Najma ur Rehman, visiting from London, remarked that Sindhiyani Tehreek had convinced her that true leadership for women’s rights comes from grassroots movements. The organization also established international connections, visiting Moscow, the Philippines, and India, and participating in socio-economic research programs in Islamabad. In December 1988, they hosted an Asian Students Association exposure program, earning admiration for their tireless efforts to raise awareness among working-class women.

Sindhiyani Tehreek has consistently protested against projects threatening Sindh’s resources and identity, such as the Kalabagh Dam, military cantonments, and schemes aimed at turning Sindhis into a minority. Thousands of women have led these protests, demonstrating their unwavering commitment to Sindh’s rights. Even today, Sindhiyani Tehreek remains at the forefront of peaceful struggles against injustices—from Zia’s martial law and Musharraf’s dark era to the failures of so-called democratic regimes. Their fight continues against illegal occupation of Indus waters, construction of controversial dams and canals, and corporate land grabs threatening millions of acres of Sindhi villages.

Sindhis have never backed down from obstacles, and neither will Sindhiyani Tehreek.

On November 16 thousands of women marched with their children, travelled all the way from long distance to reach Citygate Hotel to join rally. Brave Sindhi women marched and moved forward with strong support and determination given by their great leader Rasool Bux Palijo to defy the imposition of martial law in form of section 144.

They chanted powerful sky splitting slogans with great zeal and spirit against 27th amendment, corporate farming, canal projects, plundering of mineral resources, conspiracies to divide Sindh, tribal terrorism and Karokari honor killing.

No person and property was harmed, no passerby was threatened not even a shutter of single shop was touched. A peaceful rally of Sindhiyani Tehreek, some with their 3 months old babies in their arms were moving and making their way forward towards their destination.

The march was led by advocate Vasand Thari president of Awami Tehreek, Umraa Samoon president of Sindhiyani Tehreek, Sajid Mahesar, Marvi Sindhoo, Rasool Bux Khaskheli and others.

With spirited slogans and calm determination, a peaceful march reached at press club. All leaders of Awami Tehreek and Sindhiyani Tehreek addressed.

They vowed and promised that if demands of Sindhis remained unmet they will persist the struggle with steadfastness and commitment.

The following day workers of Sindhiyani Tehreek and Awami Tehreek faced punitive action for holding the rally in support of their rights.

The cantonment police station lodged a case for violation of section 144 of criminal procedure court against them. The law enforcers lodged FIR vide crime number 175/25 against Umrah Samoo, Sindhoo Malaah, Ghulam Mustafa Chandio, Marvi Sindhoo, Laal Jarwar, Pirbhat Halepoto and 500 other workers.

It swept everyone into its grip without having committed any crime.

Reacting to this several Sindhi and Pakistani nationalist political parties involved in their real struggles expressed both outrage and condemnation.

A development professional and consultant on climate change Naseer Memon made a statement that “Pakistan people’s Party failed to remember that Zia could not control over Sindh either”.

It was condemned by Awami worker party as an absurd act. Representative of Pakistan Raabita Committee Farooq Tariq stated that “If demands are not accepted, a sequence of solidarity protests alongside the Awami Tehreek will commence in Punjab.”

Representative of Sindh United Party also condemned it. Balochistan bar council strongly condemned and demanded withdrawal of FIR. Karachi bar association, High court bar association Hyderabad, Tharparkar bar association, District bar association Jamshoro Kotri, District bar association Kambar Shehdadkot, Malir bar association stood with Sindhiyani Tehreek and Awami Tehreek to denounce this irrational and completely pointless act. The journalistic fraternity has supported this and provided coverage extensively.

Following this rally a storm has erupted across the Sindh. By defying section 144 Sindhyani Tehreek marched through the streets of Hyderabad with great courage and bravery and conveyed the message to entire world. Wherever a drought of voices arises, we are the ones who speak, because we possess a true skill of courage, a legacy that has long been a Hallmark of Sindhiyani Tehreek.

Read: Rasool Bux Palijo: Sindh’s Soulful Voice

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Writer is a member of the Central committee of Sindhyani Tahreek.

The post Sindhiyani Tehreek: Voice of the Voiceless first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Muhammad Habib Sanai

Lakhadino Kalal was a voracious poet, tireless translator, outspoken columnist, and steadfast political activist whose life bridged literature and struggle. He dedicated himself to shaping Sindhi literary culture while championing progressive ideals through decades of teaching, organizing, and writing. This tribute surveys his devotion to words, his mentorship of younger writers, and the enduring impact of his poetry and activism in Sindh and beyond.

Renowned poet, translator, columnist, and political activist Lakhadino Kalal was born on 9 September 1948 in village Karam Khan Nizamani, Hala, District, Matiari. After completing primary schooling in his native town, he enrolled at Madarsa School Mansoora Depar, where he passed the matriculation examination in 1965. After passing his Intermediate examination from Sarwari Islamia College, Hala, he began his career as a School Teacher in the Sindh Education Department. However, after a few years, he left that position and fully dedicated himself to literature and political activism.

To earn his livelihood, he took on various odd jobs, including working as a peasant. Alongside these struggles, he pursued higher education, eventually earning an MA in Sindhi and an LLB from the University of Sindh.

Literary and Political Activism

Since the late 1960s, Kalal was deeply involved in both literature and politics, affiliating with nationalist and leftist movements. After the dismantling of the USSR, the process of depoliticization began in Sindh, which also dampened his political zeal. Though he became somewhat religious, he continued to remain active in literary pursuits and maintained a democratic and progressive outlook.

He carried within him an extraordinary memory for poetry. He could recite verses by Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai, Shaikh Ayaz, Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Sahir Ludhianvi, and other Sindhi and Urdu poets with remarkable ease.

Renowned writer, political activist, and development professional, Dr. Khataumal terms him his mentor. He recalls meeting Kalal in the late 1970s through classmates Atta Muhammad Nizamani and Ali Nawaz Nizamani, during his days at Sarwari Islamia College, Hala. He credits Kalal with awakening his own passion for literature and left-leaning politics. During the Zia era, Dr. Khataumal, together with Dr. Hyder Nizamani, Kalal, and Ali Nawaz Nizamani, launched a lecture series at Hyder Nizamani’s residence. Distinguished scholars, including Dr. Mubarak Ali, Professor Fareedudin Shaikh, and Professor Zubed Ahmed Firdousi, delivered talks that were attended by university students as well as leading political and literary figures from Hyderabad and its surrounding areas.

Ali Nawaz Nizamani, President of the Sindh Chapter of the Awami Workers Progressive Party, remembers Kalal as his political mentor. Their friendship began in the early 1970s and endured until Kalal’s last days. At the time, Kalal was a schoolteacher but remained deeply engaged in politics. According to Nizamani, he was the first organizer of Jeay Sindh Mahaz in District Sanghar. In 1979, both men left the Jeay Sindh Tahreek to join the PNP, before later moving on to other leftist parties.

Kalal played an active role in the MRD movement and even offered himself for voluntary arrest. Another dimension of his activism, Nizamani recalls, was the establishment of a Coaching Centre. It was designed to help school dropouts prepare privately for the Matriculation examination. Many youths from Karam Khan Nizamani and Baqar Khan Nizamani villages benefited from this initiative and later became political activists. Among them were the noted writer and journalist Jan Khaskheli and the committed political activist Ghulam Hussain Doongar Sindhi, both of whom studied under Kalal’s guidance.

In his memoir, poet Sahir Rahu recalls a cold November night in 1989 at the village of Karam Khan Nizamani. Around 11 p.m., he sat with Kalal in a modest room furnished with charpoys, chairs, and a small table. As others drifted into sleep, Kalal kept talking—about literature, history, aesthetics, culture, and society—with a passion that drew Rahu deeper into his world.

After a brief absence, Kalal returned carrying a jug of wine and two glasses. Placing them on the table, he filled both and said affectionately, “Abdul Rahman, take this.” Rahu declined, reminding him he did not drink. Kalal smiled faintly, took a sip himself, and reflected:

“Never let any intoxication—whether of wine, wealth, beauty, fame, power, or youth—overtake you. Intoxication strips human beings of virtue. I lost my parents young, and when a child is orphaned, society’s vices and cruelties become his dowry. Remember, true dignity lies in sobriety.”

Kalal admired Rahu’s refusal, adding that while some believe a creator must be intoxicated, as Shaikh Ayaz said, “Poetry itself is an intoxication, a state of ecstasy.”

As the night deepened, Kalal recited verses with passion from Saindad Saand’s ghazal:

اڄ تو الائي ڪنهن کان، گهريا گلاب هوندا،

ايندا جي خواب هوندا، ڪيڏا عذاب هوندا

He explained that while anyone can offer roses, the act of asking for roses holds deeper meaning. Then, gazing upward, he softly quoted Ahmad Faraz:

توں خدا ہے نہ میرا عشق فرشتوں جیسا،

دونوں انساں ہیں تو کیوں اتنے حجابوں میں ملیں

Later, he recited Nasir Kazmi with a heavy heart:

ہمارے گھر کی دیواروں پے ناصر،

اداسی بال کہولے سو رہی ہے

And finally, with weary eyes fixed on the lines of his palms, he whispered Parveen Shakir’s couplet:

تو بدلتا ہے تو بے ساختہ میری آنکھوں،

اپنے ہاتھوں کی لکیروں سے الجھے جاتی ہیں

After finishing the verse, Kalal stood up, picked up the jug and glasses, and in his characteristic style remarked, “Abdul Rahman, before the intoxication rises, I should leave now.” With heavy steps, he walked away into the fading night.

That night and especially that couplet of Parveen became etched in his memory —a reminder that pain knows no language, border, or culture, but belongs to the shared heart of humanity.

Writing Career

According to Encyclopedia Sindhiana, Kalal began his literary journey as an essayist before turning to poetry and translation. In his later years, he also contributed regular columns to Sindhi newspapers, becoming a respected voice of reflection and critique.

Published Works

• Bhalaree Bhoon (1995): Translation of The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck, co-translated with Rashid Bhatti.
• Paacha Munjhe Paand Mein (Shadows in My Hem, 1998): His first poetry collection, published by Sachai Ishaat Ghar, Daro.
• Danshiswar jo Khakho (2021): Translation of Edward W. Said’s Representations of the Intellectual, based on the Reith Lectures of 1993, published by Progressive Publishers, Karachi.
• Waiser Jee Yadgree (2024): Translation of Mahmoud Darwish’s Memory for Forgetfulness (1995), published Roshni Publications, Hyderabad/Kandiyaro.

Lakhadino Kalal passed away on 19 August 2023 in Hyderabad. He was laid to rest in his ancestral graveyard at Karam Khan Nizamani, leaving behind a legacy of resistance, creativity, and humility that continues to inspire all those whose lives were touched by him.

Read: Valiram Wallab: The Translational Genius

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Muhammad Habib Sanai is based in Hala town of Sindh. He is a freelance writer and contributes his research-based articles to various newspapers and other publications.

The post Remembering Kalal: Poet-activist of Sindh first appeared on Sindh Courier.

By Habib Sanai

Vali Ram Wallab, an acclaimed translator and writer, was born on 18 August 1941 to Kewal Ram and Chatra Bai in Mithi, a remote town in Thar. His father worked in the Police Department.

Wallab completed his secondary education in Mithi and passed his Matriculation in 1959 from Local Government High School, Mithi. He then went to Karachi seeking employment, but soon returned to Hyderabad, where he found work in the Forest Department and remained until 1969. During this period, he continued his educational journey, graduating from Sachal College in 1964. He subsequently earned his first MA in Urdu from the University of Sindh (1967), an LLB from Jinnah Law College (1969), a second MA in Sociology (1971), and a third MA in Mass Communication (1991).

In 1969, he resigned from his government position and joined as Manager of the Hyderabad Branch of a cinema advertisement agency, where he worked until 1988. Following this, he joined the Institute of Sindhology, Jamshoro, and retired as Deputy Director in 2001.

Literary Passions

As he told an interviewer, he developed literary leanings at a very early age. He acknowledged that three teachers greatly influenced him. In primary school, during fourth grade, his class teacher was Rai Chand Harijan, himself a writer and historian of Thar. Since Raichand’s elder son was his classmate, he would often visit their house, where he saw numerous books in a large almirah. He reminisced that with his friend’s help, he browsed through numerous pictorial books and once stole a children’s book from there—a royal-sized book with large fonts. He enjoyed reading that book and declared that it kindled his love for reading.

In high school, two other teachers influenced his life and enriched his literary inclinations. One was Mr. Lachhman Das, who was both the headmaster and his class teacher in the matriculation class. The other was Chaudary Zia ul Haq (a friend of the renowned Urdu writer Muhammad Khalid Akhtar). Chaudary taught them English, Urdu, and Persian with scholarly expertise. He recounted that Chaudary sahib would always provide background information about the topics under discussion. When teaching English translations of Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, he would recite numerous Urdu and Persian couplets. Furthermore, he stocked their school library with books by the best Urdu writers of that time, and Wallab remembered reading works by Manto, Krishan Chander, Ismat Chughtai, and Khwaja Ahmed Abbas during his school days. According to him, his teachers and relatives frequently discussed books, creating an environment in school that was conducive to literary pursuits. During this time, he also read books by Tagore and Sarat Chandra, which influenced him and his fellow students due to the similarities between the social conditions of Sindh and Bengal.

During his school days, he began writing poetry but was too shy to show it to any friend. Additionally, he married very early—while still in matriculation—which imposed certain restrictions. He lost his poetry collection during moves from one posting to another.

He translated his first short story, “Dozakh and Bihshat,” from Gujarati in 1962, and it was published in the quarterly Mehran. When he settled in Hyderabad in 1967, he developed a friendship with Tariq Ashraf, a renowned writer and editor of the periodical Sohni. He wrote an original story, “Pushp,” which was published in Sohni. He then translated Krishan Chander’s short story “Taxi Driver” and novel “Ghadar,” which were widely appreciated, though his original story did not receive a warm response. Consequently, he tried his hand at translation and became an acclaimed translator.

As a translator, he worked on both fiction and non-fiction. In fiction, he translated ten novels, including Anna Karenina by Tolstoy (which remains unpublished), more than three hundred short stories, and half a dozen non-fiction books. His translated works are listed below:

Novels

1. Ghadar by Krishan Chander (1968-1980-1983-1990) (from Urdu)
2. Sita Hiran by Qurratulain Hyder (1977-1982-1996) (from Urdu)
3. Band Darwazo by Amrita Pritam (1978 and 1991) (from Punjabi)
4. Dhariyo by Albert Camus (1991, 2021) (from English)
5. Paoeene Pahra ja Pandheeara by Qurratulain Hyder (2000) (from Urdu)
6. Sumhiya Pani by Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena (2015) (from Hindi)
7. Chhitan Kutan jo Maseeha by Sarveshwar Dayal Saxena (2015) (from Hindi)
8. Kunhani hunan jee by Amrita Pritam (2016) (from Punjabi)
9. Karo Kitab by Abid Soorati (unpublished) (from Hindi)
10. Anna Karenina by Tolstoy (unpublished) (from English)

Short Story Anthologies

1. Teen Duniya joon Kahaniyoon (1980)
2. Thakal Sureet and other stories by Alberto Moravia (1983)
3. Nain Tara and other stories (Urdu and Hindi) (2003)
4. Bihshat an Dozakh (from different languages of the subcontinent) (2004)
5. Mithra Bhau and other stories (Stories and Plays from the Middle East, Far East, and subcontinent) (2006)
6. Pardehi Kahaniyoon (Selected American, Latin American, European, Australian and South African stories)

Poetry

1. Kawita Phulwari (Selected poetry of 112 poets from 26 languages belonging to 19 countries) (2006)
2. Morchhal (poetry from different languages of the subcontinent) (2016)
3. Loo by Shamsher ul Haideri (translated into Urdu)
4. Kawtaaen jo Kak Mahal (selection of poetry from different languages of India)

Non-Fiction Works

1. Iqbal by Ahmed Nadeem Qasmi (1977)
2. Sada Sawa Pan (Mahmoud Darwesh, Yashpal, Pablo Neruda and Lorca) (1984)
3. Kheer Dhara (Foreign literatures and their works) (2015)
4. Sindh Kahany by Kewal Ram Malknai (1991, 2001 and 2005)
5. Gita jo Ibhiyas (translation of Gita in Marxism by Sardesai and Dileep Bose) (1992)
6. Man jee Shanti (from Hindi) (2002)
7. Janwarn jee Ajeeb Duniya (translation of Amazing World of Animals) (2013)

As mentioned earlier, he also wrote poetry and short stories. His stories and poetry have been translated into Urdu and English. His Sindhi story “Leeka n Oranghan Jehra” was translated into English as “Barriers that Remained” and included in an anthology of translated short stories published by Penguin. Urdu writer and translator Bashir Unwan translated his poetry and short stories into Urdu, which were published in a collection entitled Zindagi se Kata Hua Tukra (2001). Most of his original works have not been published in book format.

Original Works

1. Zindhi jo Hik Kapyal Tukrao and other stories (Short stories) (2001)
2. Udaroon Aakaas me (Poetry)
3. Mithi Shahr je Muaashi and Samaji Halatn jo Tahqeeqi Jaaezo (Research)
4. Unheen Sadee jee Akhbar nawesi (Research)
5. 1947 khhan ag Sindhi Me Chhappyal Trajuman jo Tahqeeqi jaazo (Research)
6. Mukha Melo (Interviews)
7. Yadoon Mulaqatoon and Kujh Ibhiyas (2016)

He also compiled, edited, and improved numerous works and periodicals, some of which are listed below:

Books

1. Baar Sindhi Kahani me (Collection of 22 short stories) (1984)
2. Leeka n Oraghan Jehra (2002)
3. Aarsi Kahaniyoon (along with Zafar Hassan) (2013)
4. Sajan Saar Paee (letters of Sindhi writers from India)
5. Saneehrha (letters of his daughters)
6. Moon wat n ka peeti n ko Kulf Kunji (autobiography of Baghat Khemchand Asnani) (2004)
7. Zafar Hassan jee Dairi (Volume 1 along with Zafar Junejo and Rafiq Mangi) (2003)
8. Sindhi Barano Kitaab, Sindh Textbook Board, Jamshoro (2004)
9. Sindhi Chhaoon Kitaab, Sindh Textbook Board, Jamshoro (2005)
10. Sindhi Pahaka: Lasaniyatee a Samaji Saqafati Ibhiyas by Dr Rawi Parkash Tekchandani (2010)
11. Sindhi Boli jo Grammar by Ernst Trump (translation and revision along with Dr. Fahmida Hussain) (2011)
12. Saath Sikhya ya Samaji Zandi by Shewaram Pherwani (2011)
13. Mao Baar khhey Keean Sudhaare (Translation of Natural Education by W.S. Stunner) (2013)
14. Pakistan Niralo Wijood Niraali Taqdeer (Translation of English writings of Javed Jabbar by Muhsin Babar) (2014)

Periodicals

1. Five issues of Sohni as sub-editor (1971)
2. Aalmi Adab Volume 1 (1978)
3. Sindhi Sahat (1979)
4. Five issues of Aarsi along with Zafar Hassan (1983 to 1986)
5. Five issues of Biannual Sindhi Adab (1989, 1994 to 1997)
6. Some issues of Ibrat Magazine
7. News and Opinion (Member of Editorial Board)

He had two daughters (Dr. Pushpa Vallab and Gori Wallab, both poets) and a son, Mr. Kameshwar.

He passed away on 29 October 2023.

Read: Valiram Vallabh – A diamond carved at the foothills of Gadhi Bhit of Thar

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Muhammad Habib Sanai is based in Hala town of Sindh. He is a freelance writer and contributes his research-based articles to various newspapers and other publications.

The post Vali Ram Wallab: The Translational Genius first appeared on Sindh Courier.