THIS IS MY STORY—26
MY JOURNEY THROUGH THE ERA OF AYUB KHAN TO THE TIMES OF IMRAN KHAN.
GHULAM AKBAR
“Dogs and CSP candidates are not allowed.”
Practically every boy of my age who regarded himself above average wanted to become a CSP officer. Most of my friends including Roshan Zamir were already rejoicing in their fantasies about a future of power and affluence.
A rebel as I was, I hoisted on the front door of the two-room modest accommodation that I used to share with Roshan Zamir and one other friend Sagheer Ahmad Butt, a card that read: “Dogs and CSP candidates are not allowed.”
Roshan removed it twice only to find it reappear.
“This is not fair Akbar,” he used to say protestingly” We have a right to go for a career of our choice.”
“You surely have it,” I used to reply. “But I too have the right of self-expression. You can however hoist a card of your choice side by side.”
I have mentioned this incident only to emphasise upon my extreme dislike for civil services which I used to identify with the colonial traditions of the British Raj.
As I haven’t ever maintained a diary or taken notes, I am relying very heavily on my memory while writing these memoirs, thus I may skip or fail to remember some interesting incidents, events or moments. For example I have failed to recall my utter disgust at Hussain Shaheed Snharswardy’s remark at the Beirut Airport on a proposal regarding joint Arab Action against Israel.
He had famously (or notoriously) said: Zero+Zero+Zero+Zero+Zero = Zero.
This sad remark had been seen in the Arab World as a U.S lackey’s mindset.
In the year 1959, I went to Abbottabad to pass my summer vacation with my Uncle Nasim Hijazi. His eldest son the late Khalid Nasim Hijazi had been my childhood friend. His younger brother Javed was to get tragically drowned a year later in a pond near Uncle’s Rawalpind residence in Sattelite Town. Uncle had a third son too- Ahsan who too has passed away.
I remember the summer of 1959 quite fondly. In the company of my cousins, I had learnt a bit of mountaineering. I had become habitual of getting up early in the morning and climbing up some of the easier hills close by. I remember having written my name on a hilltop with medium heavy stones just for fun. Some years later when I was to go there again just for remembrance’s sake I was to find my name intact.
It was in 1959 that I met Field Marshal Ayub Khan in person for the first time. Mamoon Jan had an appointment with the Field Marshal at Nathiagali.
“ I want you to accompany me Akbar Shah,” he said to me with a smile. “You should have the feel of big things early.”
I have vivid memories of our drive on the narrow road between Abbottabad and Nathiagali. The road then was used for one-way traffic only.
It was at a stop on this road that I met Nawalizada Nasrullah in person. He was coming back from Nathiagali—obviously after meeting the Field Marshal. Some pleasantries were exchanged between him and Mamoon Jan which were quite enjoyable.
