We lost Wajid Shamsul Hasan on September 28, 2021. He fought long with his illnesses. But bravely. His memories, I will always cherish. The second time that I saw him was at my maternal uncle’s residence in Karachi. My maternal uncle, Dr Badar Siddiqi, a renowned surgeon, was famous for his dinners and musical programmes that went on till the early hours of the morning. I have had the privilege of hearing Iqbal Bano, Sabri Qawwal, Mehdi Hasan, Fareeda Khanum in the 1980s and Wajid Uncle had already made a name for himself. I saw him from afar on one such beautiful evening. Unfortunately, too awed, I did not approach him then. Come to the WhatsApp era, we started exchanging messages. First, in groups, then, one-to-one, and then lengthy phone conversations. It was during one of these conversations, telling him about my family, he discovered I was a niece not only to Dr Siddiqi where I saw him for the second time but also a niece to his classmate from university. One of whom he was rather fond of. And that dear reader was the first time I met him when he visited our flat in Hawa Mansion, Nursery, Karachi with my uncle. He was studying with my younger paternal uncle, Mehdi Ali Seljouk at Karachi University in the 1960s. I must have been around three years. He remembered my father called “Chand”, his nickname. As to why my grandparents decided to call him by a name exact opposite of his real name, I was too young to ask. Wajid Uncle asked me if I knew Chand’s “imp of a daughter who could not sit still” and upon my owning that I was indeed that very daughter, he was absolutely delighted. That day, he forbid me from calling him Wajid Sahib. It was always Wajid Uncle from then on. During our past many years of exchange, there were so many subjects we touched upon. It will not be incorrect to say, there was hardly any subject we did not discuss. What a wealth of knowledge and information he was. His naughty facts on known names always made me laugh. After sharing these naughty facts, he would shush me and sternly told me to keep these nuggets to myself. Which really spoiled half the fun but I always honoured his request. No one can deny the absolute conviction of his beliefs in whatever he wrote. His pen was indeed fearless. Wajid uncle always listened. He had this great ability to listen, really listen to the other person, give advice here, an opinion there. He would catch the delivery of a word, the expression within a dialogue. I poured out my personal problems to him. He always listened. Never interrupting. Not once. Till out of steam, when I would stop. Only then, like a mathematician, he would set out ways in which I could reach Destination A or Destination B. Of course, the destination was my choice, as he would point out like a sage. He, in turn, was always thankful for the gracious life God had awarded him. Yes, his illness bothered him, but he would make light of his visits to his doctor. He knew I had monthly recitations of the Quran at my house. Every month, he would request me to remember him in dua. Dutifully, I would honour his request and record the dua for him too. That pleased him a lot. He enjoyed my pieces. A great honour for me, of course. I requested him for quotes in my articles, and he never denied me. These, of course, would always be on point. And I’m so honoured to share that in many of his pieces, he quoted me from my articles. Besides Dr Mehdi Hasan, Wajid Uncle is the only other person who permitted me to quote him on any subject should I wish to, without asking him. This confidence brings tears to my eyes as I write it. A few months before he left us, he compiled and published his book. I had one of the first copies delivered to my residence in Lahore. He wrote so much, particularly on domestic politics, from every conceivable angle. One may or may not agree with his opinion, but no one can deny the absolute conviction of his beliefs in whatever he wrote. His pen was indeed fearless. In an article published on December 25, 2017, he wrote and I share an extract: “However, in Pakistan, there is a conspiracy to baptise a secular, liberal and progressive Jinnah into a theocrat. Short of claiming that he was one of the alleged founding fathers of Jamaat-e-Islami, its current leadership and the Ahraris mischievously do not hesitate to brand him as a fellow band-wagoner on their gravy train. Due to confusion created by the religious parties about the national identity, his categorical assertion that religion would be a private affair of its citizens and that Pakistan shall never be a theocratic state-whatever he stood for is the target of an ongoing process of demolition. Religious halfwits crusading against MAJ’s two-nation theory are hell-bent in Talibanization retired bureaucrat who claims to have done doctorate and masquerades himself as the champion of Punjabi-brand of Nazaria-e-Pakistan that the Quaid originally a Shia Khoja-became Deobandi later in his life.” [Titled: Rebaptising the Quaid] The bond of love, trust and respect I shared with him has been one that is close to my heart. By virtue of that deep respect, I had to honour him through these inadequate words. Rest in peace, my wise friend. You are remembered and will always be remembered in my recitations. Thank you for befriending me. The writer is a lawyer, academic and political analyst. She has authored a book titled ‘A Comparative Analysis of Media & Media Laws in Pakistan.’ She can be contacted at yasmeenali62@gmail.com and tweets @yasmeen_9