Grief is more manageable when the inevitable call by the Maker follows a natural scheme of things, like old age. When it is sudden and brutal, denial is all the more acute, anger is heightened and depression lasts for longer, urging us to ask ‘why?’ In the case of Murtaza Razvi, who was an integral part of the Dawn family and whose life was cut short cruelly, denial, anger and depression will be felt by his colleagues for a considerable time.
There are many ‘whys’ in Murtaza’s case. Whether all those will be answered, only time will tell. For now, the only way to bridge the gap left by him is to acknowledge his contribution and share recollections of him.
I remember him first from the time he joined in 2001 and was given the windowless office which was situated next to the tea canteen in those days. He was a quiet individual in those early days and kept mostly to himself. But since his office was in the main corridor most of us would pass by him often while walking over to the composing room or the image setting department. We didn`t really need to hear his voice to know he was in there, the smoke filling the space outside his door was indication enough!
His being quiet however did not mean that he was not doing much in Dawn. Besides his editorial writing he was soon given a special task by the editor at the time — Saleem Asmi — to launch a fortnightly art magazine which all Dawn readers eventually came to know as The Gallery. Being an avid art lover — that too from Lahore — he was the best man for the job. So that windowless room became the Gallery office and Pakistan’s art scene welcomed a real boost in exposure. His most commendable initiative for the Gallery was to feature art students’ thesis work and promote up and coming artists.
In 2005, when Murtaza took over as Lahore’s resident editor, I inherited the Gallery as well as the windowless room from him. The only instruction he gave me while handing over the magazine before rushing out was, “You know the works, you’ll do fine. If you need me, you can always email.” That summed up his handing over. That also set in motion our professional relationship which would be linked more closely in years to come. And from being just a colleague whom I would nod at occasionally when passing by in the corridors, he became a sounding board for innovative ideas.
I happened to visit Lahore during his tenure as Dawn’s resident editor and I was overwhelmed by his hospitality. For two days he was not only a gracious host but an untiring driver who took me across the city to as many art galleries and literary cafes he could manage in the available time. We even had time to eat roadside gol gappas just because I had mentioned that it was my favourite junk food!
It is not easy to describe Murtaza’s personality. He could be totally nonchalant and intensely serious about work at the same time. If there were 50 pages of the Lifestyle magazine to be dropped before 9:00 pm — a challenging task, I assure you — he would still be joking around with page makers at 6:00 pm. But if there was the least bit of doubt about a fact, a source or the ethical matter about a story, he could become pretty severe.
Most notably, he was a walking encyclopaedia on many matters, be it politics, history, literature or just general knowledge and hence, a popular reference point for most of Dawn’s editorial clan. What I valued most was his esteem for me as a writer and a magazine editor. Shortly before my departure from Dawn in 2007 I was given the charge of revamping the Sunday Magazine and he was simultaneously also appointed to oversee all magazines. He never failed to appreciate mine and my team’s work and frequently popped in to commend on a good issue.
It was a strange coincidence that when in 2009 he was to leave for a three-month course in Singapore, I happened to be visiting Karachi for those precise three months and was asked by editor Abbas Nasir to ‘man’ the fort while he was out. It seems surreal now that I occupied that same chair which has been left empty by him.
A few months ago I emailed him telling him to read my poem on ‘winter’, in the last Lifestyle magazine as he had liked the idea of writing an introductory poem for Lifestyle when I took it over from him along with Gallery. He made a smiley face and wrote back, “I had commissioned the poem, Madam, and knew only you could do it!”
The spontaneous outpouring of grief from his current and former colleagues is a testimonial of how much he was loved. Rest now in eternal peace, Murtaza.