As I write about Zulfiqar Ali Shah Jamote, the mind recalls John Denver’s song, ‘Beautiful, beautiful man’. Lord! What a man; a very, very special man, a giant amongst his friends and kin: his friendship genuine, his loyalty unquestionable, his grace unmatched. That was the Zulfi we all knew and for whom we had gathered on Saturday, March 12, to say goodbye to an era of grace, decency, tradition and a lifetime of fond memories.

A scion of the Jamote family and heir to the benevolent tradition of Syed Muhammad Ali Shah Jamote of Matiari, whose place was the port of call for many, Zulfi inherited the mantle at the young age of 20. He was away on a college trip when he lost his father; fate played it so that whilst he was in Sukkur, his father, who was returning by road from Murree to Hyderabad made an impromptu stop at Sukkur to see his son. Intuitively he took off his wristwatch and gave it to his son. Zulfi returned home a day after his father’s demise.

Zulfi, supported by his uncle Fazal Ali Shah (S. Gul), took on the role of the family head — not an easy task. From that time, Pir Pagaro became a great source of strength for him and this relationship shaped Zulfi’s future. Zulfi gave his unflinching loyalty to the Pir even when the odds were against him. Just a few weeks before his passing, like a child who had found a lost toy, he joyously informed me that in one of his recent interviews the Pir had confessed that Zulfiqar Jamote was his only friend. The measure of a man is to stand unflinchingly by his friends when the chips are down. Zulfi never defaulted.

From an early age, Zulfi established his credentials as a just and honourable man. Jamote House in Hyderabad Cantonment was a place where friends would visit. At any given time, you would find the less privileged enjoying an equal measure of his attention as the big wigs in his guestroom. He was one of those rare persons whom everyone could regard as a friend. Born in a benevolent feudal system, his humility was unbounded.

Matiari was a difficult turf — his opponents had a lead over him in the taluka, his kith and kin had vested interest. Overall, it was Makhdoom Mohammed Zaman’s territory and Zulfi was selected by Pir Sahib to contest elections against Makhdoom Sahib from Hala against the rising tide of roti, kapra aur makan and a roaring Bhutto. The result was a foregone conclusion but it needed strength of character and conviction to contest the election which he gallantly did.

Never unnerved, Zulfi continued to oblige. His brief stint as Senator during ZAB’s tenure was not very pleasant. He was arrested following a big rally in Hyderabad; where some of the so-called opposition stalwarts were reluctant to surrender to the police, Zulfi was the first to present himself to the SDM, Manzoor Bhutto after Pir Pagaro acquiesced. Manzoor recalls that he had no vehicle to take his wards to the prison so Zulfi drove Manzoor in his car to the place of confinement. A few days later when ZAB visited Hyderabad, Zulfi was called from the City Police Station and, after a friendly chat in which Bhutto failed to win over Jamote, he was released.

One of Jamote’s most significant successes was his role in having Matiari declared a district. He pursued this issue single-handedly and Matiari’s development owes much to Jamote. He believed passionately in quality education for the Sindhi youth as an answer to Sindh’s backwardness; the gap between the urban and rural society was a matter of great concern for him. He was an ardent exponent of Sindh’s culture, music and craft. As a trustee of the Mohatta Palace Museum, he was a progenitor of many art programmes. His absence will sorely be missed.

In his heyday he was an ardent sportsman, a perfect marksman and an incredible host. Despite his many problems — with health, wealth and politics — he had the solace of having a happy family. Seldom did he open his heart to share his grievances but he was always there to show attention, care, affection and concern for others.

I knew him for over forty years and during these years we discussed books, music, culture, politics, Sindh and everything under the sun. I recall when my father was injured in a car accident, Zulfi drove down in the late hours to bring a doctor from Karachi to Hyderabad. When I lost my young son, Zulfi remained with me to share the grief and we drove together to the graveyard at Matiari. The depth and extent of the mutual regard and respect that we had for each other is difficult to express.

I recall the day he was shifted from the ICU. He was in good spirits during our short chat but ended the conversation with a very emphatic “Khuda hafiz Sain’, a salutation he had never used before, and there was a clear finality to the farewell. Forty eight hours later came the sad news that he had left having said his goodbyes.

We will remember you always. Khuda hafiz, Sain.