Abi remembered

11.04.1900 — 19.09.1963

There are so many things I remember about my father, Azhar Kidvai. His love of Books (English and Urdu), Music (from Western Classical to Indian Classical and Jazz), Films, Ghazals and Prose that he wrote. I keep thinking of the müshāerās which happened often and in which he recited. He had a wonderful voice and sang Western and Eastern songs, occasionally. 

When parodying his friends in Scotland — where he studied his medicine and practiced there for a few years — he spoke with a perfect Scottish accent.

My love for all of these came from him … sadly except his voice. I can't sing a note right, although everyone in my Dādhiyāl (paternal family) can ... including, of course, my father's young cousin, Talat Mahmood.

Ustad Asad Ali Khan of Agra believed that a bad voice can be trained in a few months. He asked my father to let me stay at his house for three months and I would be able to not just have a good voice but would sing like that gharana. That never happened, of course: I was his only child and he would not let me go away for so long.

In 1911 - on his 111th birthday - I was lying down on my beanbag, listening to Beniamino Gigli singing Tosti's Goodbye and thinking of some of the things about our lives. Sabeen Mahmud walked in and saw me with tears in my eyes (I hadn't even realized that had actually happened). She did not know that it was Abi's birthday so I was quite surprised that she asked me if it was my father that I was thinking of. Obviously I must have talked about him fairly often and said that I think of him a lot.

I read out a piece to her that he had translated

We then decided to watch a movie: Witness for the Prosecution. A film that had four of his favorite actors: Charles Laughton, Marlene Dietrich, Tyrone Power, Elsa Lanchester. And it was written by Agatha Christie, an author that he read and always thought she was absolutely fantastic.

While watching that film I mentioned to Sabeen that my father had said to me when we were watching a Disney film about Nature (at Rex Cinema that the Karachiites will remember) that I could see the regular film in 3D if I closed one eye. I thought it was a joke but he said I should close an eye and see it.

YAYYY!

It actually worked.

I often see regular films even

on my TV in 3D nowadays.

I always wondered why most people don't watch them like that. When I had my Cataract operation I watched several of the regular films in 3D :)

Recently I came across an old article on how people can see 3D by closing one eye and I thought I'd write about it in this post. Try it. You won't be disappointed.

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Miss you, Abi!

Yes, Marvi Mazhar, I did smoke!

This was at the end of 1953, when we lived in a flat at Nazareth Road. I had just become 13 a month earlier and was given a cigarette to smoke by a slightly older American friend. It was a Lucky Strike. I fell in love with it and started smoking those. (I really hated British cigarettes that a couple of friends offered me.)

Lucky Strike

Apart from that I occasionally smoked the following

Camel

Pall Mall

Gauloises

CharMinar

King Stork

Finally, when I was at sea, I even took to the above, a really strong brand from Pakistan. This was when I was in Chittagong. The other US/French/Indian brands were not easily available there and they rarely came Duty Free (except when I ordered a few packs on our European trips).

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Just an aside.

Lucky Strike had L.S.M.F.T. on some advertisements

Lucky Strike Means Fine Tobacco

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The joke that we all laughed at was

Q: "Who would you like your ultimate mate to be?"

A: "Oh, as long as they fit the 'L.S.M.F.T.' type!"

Q: "What does that mean?"

A: "Long, Short, Medium, Fat, or Thin!"

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But I am getting ahead!

On 28th September that year I was in my room

(Obviously smoking a Lucky Strike).

Part of the flat where we lived looked like this:

As you can see, Ummi (my mother) came into my bedroom door to speak to me. I had the cigarette (my parents didn't know I smoked at all, naturally) so I hid the lighted cigarette behind my back. While talking to her, Abi (my father) arrived from the passage and saw the cigarette. He took it out of my hand and said to me to finish it and then enter their bedroom. Ummi was aghast. I went into my room and had a couple of quick puffs and then went to see them, fearing the worst.

All Abi said was that he gave me Rupees 2 Annas 8 (Rs 2.50 today) for my pocket money and he wanted to know why I spent such a lot of money on cigarettes. In any case, there was no Cigarette-to-Cancer scene at that time and Abi had, at one time smoked. He gave it up because, I think, we had little money to spend on 'luxuries' (though he always bought books if he ever had some money).

Abi said to me that I should not spend this much money and should give up smoking. If I could do that until I was 16, he'd let me smoke then. I agreed (partly because I was shit-scared at his 'coolness' and was not willing to go further into any discussion).

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In another 3 years I never ever smoked but had actually completely forgotten about this incident. On my 16th birthday Abi asked me if I had ever smoked in these three years. I said to him I hadn't.

He was a doctor and had read in a medical magazine that there was a risk of paper in cigarettes that was being investigated these days. So he asked me to accompany him to Rodrigues & Co. on Elphinstone Street (now Zaibunnisa Street) and gifted me a set of two pipes and a box of Tobacco.

The Wooden Pipe was expensive as was the Tobacco.

The Corn Pipe was much cheaper.

He did ask me to stay away from Cigarettes, but I started smoking them when I was at sea, anyway. Life without cigarettes, specially when you were getting them Duty Free, was great. But pipes became my favorites on my Watch on the Ship's Bridge.

This was my ultimate favorite pipe!

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Cigars became a favorite of mine after dinner. The one that I loved was made in Manila for me and I always had one every night, sitting with other friends at sea where we would have poetry sessions.

My personal cigar

You can see Z.A.K. on the cigar.

I also wanted to take my Hookah from home with me to the ship, but was told that it was not allowed on board because of the additional risk of fire. Why, I wondered. Cigarettes/Cigars could also cause fires. Any ideas? For those who might want to see what my Hookah looked like, here is a picture.

HookiePookie

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In 1959 that I learnt to drive a car of a friend. I had an accident that left my left shoulder fractured. I had some pain and was told to stay in bed after Dr. Habib Patel (a close friend of my father from Bombay) plastered it. Abi decided to light a cigarette and helped me smoke it. Imagine this in '59. 

Sadly the shoulder joined crookedly (as D J Trump would say it!) and I had to again to Dr. Patel. He hit it (with a soft hammer) and re-fractured it and put it right. The shoulder was in plaster again but is now OK … but in a slightly bent shape.

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In 1977 I was home when Ummi said to me that I had every habit my father had (books, music, poetry) but was not as good as he was. She said he gave up smoking and you continue to do so because you've no will power. 

I thought hard about that in my room and then went to her with all my pipe collection and a packet of cigarettes and two cigars and said you can give these to anyone you want. I will never smoke again. 

My Pipe Collection

I have never touched a cigarette since then.

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As for my fondness of 'other things',

don't forget that I grew up in the 60s

and use them as they come.

No tobacco in it. Just dried Podeena.

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