Eulogy: Syed Shaukhat Hasan

They say you don’t realize what you have lost until it is taken away from you. Sometimes what you lose is time, sometimes it’s an opportunity, other times it’s a person. I lost all three in the passing of my grandfather.  

Syed Shaukat Hasan was born in the early 1930s in Bihar, India. His childhood days were filled with goalkeeping for the neighborhood football team, bicycle races with his brothers, and tedious chores around the house. My grandfather grew up in a decisive moment in world history with the partition of India and World War 2 occurring in his teenage years. His father, my great-grandfather, was heavily involved in politics and an instrumental voice in Bihar for the creation of a Muslim majority nation. Personally selected by Muhammad Ali Jinnah (the founder and first Governor General of Pakistan) my great-grandfather was one of the first individuals to move his family to the new capital city of Karachi shortly prior to the official partition.

My grandfather witnessed the establishment of this new nation. In Pakistan, he pursued higher education and graduated with a master’s degree in organic chemistry and dedicated his life to academia. He worked as a professor until he was appointed Chairman of the Board of Examinations, an esteemed position handed to a select few. He soon saw the corruption and politics that accompanied such positions and was removed twice during his tenure after refusing to compromise his ethics. These experiences taught him how each moment, each day, each choice is a test, and my grandfather passed that test time and time again. And that's why the virtues of service and valor were not just words to him, but rather a truthful embodiment of who he was. His ethics, honesty, and compassion even forced the most cynical to cast doubt upon themselves.

He saw the fall of an empire, the birth of a new nation, assassination of political leaders, and international acclaim for a country he helped build. He lost both of his elder brothers unexpectedly and lifted the burden of his seventeen nieces and nephews on his shoulders. He witnessed his brother-in-law tragically passing away, leaving behind three daughters and saddest of all, he lost his wife unexpectedly too. He had been to hell and back yet his optimism never waned and his zest for life never died out, so his cancer diagnosis did not frighten him and he maintained his buoyant spirit and calming smile till the very end. He felt weak and his appetite diminished in his last days, but he maintained that calm composure and compassion he was known for, too stubborn to sit idle and still deeply worried about his family’s well-being.

Tragic is the fact that I missed the opportunity to learn as much as I could from him about my family’s history, his struggles, and his experiences shaping a new nation. Till the age of two I spent every day with him, but as I moved from Pakistan my interactions with him were often separated by years. When he finally started visiting America after my grandmother’s death, he suffered from Alzheimer’s and was limited in his interactions. Even then he never lost his sense of humor, his care for his grandchildren, and his willingness to sacrifice his sleep or comfort to spend time a little extra time in the company of his family.

“Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. but what will happen in all the other days that will ever come can depend on what you do today.” What better way to honor his life of service than follow his example to prove that the willingness to fight for your country and family is not reserved for a select few but demanded of us all. Perhaps we can best honor him by realizing that for your county and your family, there are some things bigger than your own dreams, ambitions, acclaim and power and that there are some things worth risking everything for, especially when it comes to abiding by the ideals that he lived by: honesty, compassion, morality, and love.  

As hundreds lined up outside his house as word spread of his passing, there was a stillness in the neighborhood. This man had touched the lives of so many individuals (as I would find out over time). I learned how many renowned Pakistani poets, singers, artists, and athletes had at some point been his students or had sought his counsel. It was no surprise when hundreds of family, friends, colleagues, neighbors, politicians, and his former students cleared their schedules to attend his janazah

At the time of his passing, he had a few articles of clothing, some personal belongings, and a few hundred dollars. He was “dad” to three, a grandfather to six, but a father to many. Dada Jaan, may you and Dadi Jaan rest in peace and be reunited with all whose lives you touched with your compassion and care.

 

*Janazah- Islamic funeral prayer

** Dada Jaan/Dadi Jaan, titles of endearment in Urdu given to a paternal grandfather and paternal grandmother 

 

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