Sahafi Ki Qalam Guzasht

A few days ago, I visited a bookstore and immediately purchased a book by the highly respected journalist from Multan, Jabbar Mufti, as soon as I saw it. These days, I am reading his memoir, or rather “Qalam Guzasht,” which he says was named by Raziuddin Razi, a renowned poet, writer, and journalist from Multan.

When I was trying to learn journalism or establish myself at the English newspaper *Dawn* in Multan from 1993 to 1998, Jabbar Mufti was among the prominent and credible journalists at the time. He served as both the secretary and later the president of the Multan Press Club. A refined, wise, and courteous man, he was someone who commanded respect and gave it in equal measure. I had heard and read that certain people treated everyone, big or small, with respect. It was only after meeting Jabbar Mufti in Multan that I came to believe that such people indeed exist in real life, not just in stories.

I am particularly enjoying *Qalam Guzasht* because I am familiar with all the political and Multani characters mentioned in it, having been a part of that environment where these characters were brought to life. The book has refreshed memories of my eight years in Multan, especially during the early days of my journalism career when we used to roam the streets with friends.

Mufti Sahib has displayed the magic of his pen in this book. He knows how to narrate a story in an engaging way without ever boring the reader, especially the parts about his life in prison (I learned from the book that he was imprisoned in Rawalpindi and Mianwali for some time due to his political beliefs).

He has always been on the editorial side. When *Nawa-e-Waqt* Multan was at its peak, he played a central role in the newspaper and held significant positions there. Consequently, his writing is very polished, and not a single word in his book feels unnecessary. This is the hallmark of someone who has reached the top after editing, refining, and headlining others’ stories. When such a person writes themselves, they create literature even in political writing.

So far, I have read three chapters about three political figures, and I must say, there was an instance where he briefly alluded to a grievance regarding an old friend. Anyone else would have written three or four pages on this friend’s indifference, but Mufti Sahib displayed maturity and moved on.

Perhaps that friend had outgrown Jabbar Mufti, or maybe Mufti Sahib no longer held relevance for them in this new era. Consider the example of Nawaz Sharif in 2006-07 in London, where he would discuss Javed Hashmi during his exile, but today, he does not even like to hear Hashmi’s name.

As time passes, we often outgrow our friends or heroes. We move on, which is what outgrowing means. Now, whether Javed Hashmi considered himself a better politician and braver than Nawaz Sharif for not fleeing or making deals and serving jail time in Pakistan, or if Nawaz Sharif felt that Hashmi’s stature was because of him, and wanted him to test his standing without his support, is a decision I leave up to you.

I read somewhere that human psychology is strange, as now 90% of the people you once couldn’t spend a day without are no longer your friends. If you don’t believe it, read this passage from Jabbar Mufti’s book.