Dada Abu and I would go to Saddar’s Urdu Bazaar every Saturday.

The coveted book bazaar isn’t just a holy grail for nerds residing in Karachi, it's one of the biggest and busiest book markets in the Subcontinent. Its streets are lined by walk-in stores and carts piled with material from every genre.

These trips were a weekly occurrence. We would wander through different sections, Dada Abu’s walking stick leading the way. The smell of paper would waft around one corner, and freshly brewed doodh patti would drift from another. I was allowed to purchase five books, after which we’d help ourselves to Saddar’s infamous paapri chaat. Sometimes we’d sit in the car and eat. Other times, inside one of the little shops.

He’d recount stories from Partition, as well as his time spent in jail alongside Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto during the political revolt in Pakistan. He’d observe fellow chaat lovers and narrate suitable verses from one of his many books.

Dada Abu often reminisced about his days as Vice Chancellor of Sindh University and life in Shikarpur. “Karachi bahut bara hai – Shikarpur mein tou har koi aik dusray ko jaanta tha”. (Karachi is very big; everyone knew one another in Shikarpur)

Dada Abu and I

My immature mind would zone out after the first 20 minutes. I was too young to comprehend the intricacies or importance of his experiences. I didn’t understand what he meant by “time spent in jail” or “Partition”.

Yes, I was familiar with a big fight with India that happened decades before my birth, however; that was the extent of it. Little did I know that twenty something years later, I’d be astounded by the personal experiences in his book, Songs of Freedom.

Back then, I’d devour our weekly spicy concoction and longingly eye my little stack of books. Dada Abu would take the hint, smile and pay the bill. The journey back home would be quiet, both of us submerged in our respective purchases.

His real name was Shaikh Mubarak Ali, and Shaikh Ayaz became his choice title. He wasn’t just my grandfather; he was a celebrated writer and poet with 63 books to his name. Some 39 of them being poetry. Originating from Sindh, his work was first drafted in his regional dialect. However, his writings have been translated into 18 languages including Urdu, Hindi, Sanskrit, Turkish, English, German, Greek, Russian and Korean.





All his life, he campaigned against social injustice and evils such as extremism, intolerance, terrorism and violence conducted upon women. His poetry, specifically, is infused with folklore and the rich traditions that nurtured his imagination. He offered philosophical reflections on Sindh’s lavish history and some of its crumbling landmarks. He always hoped for a better future for his homeland, and wrote about it relentlessly.





Born on the March 2, 1923, in Shikarpur, he is one of the major voices in 20th century South Asian poetry. Shaikh Ayaz’s contribution to Sindhi and Urdu literature is almost legendary. His work often expertly depicted the trials and tribulations, as well as happiness and achievements, of the average Sindhi. He spoke about feminism and equal rights for women when very few people did.

Dada Abu would remain isolated in his library for hours to eliminate distractions. His writing time was only interrupted by grandchildren, press visits and frequent cakes delivered from Hyderabad’s Bombay Bakery. The sweet treats were often followed by reminders from my Papa, a cardiologist, that Dada Abu was a cardiac patient.

Stubborn at heart, it was his non-conformist nature that helped him engrave his own eccentric identity as a poet. Core to this was his belief that he should represent people from all walks of life. In short, Dada Abu’s vision - his life's work - was to become the voice of people suffering from oppression in all aspects of life. He was gifted with extraordinary courage to articulate what he believed in.

His book, Ziker-e-Ayaz spoke about his motherland and the injustice that faced its citizens. He emphasised the constant need for compassion and humanism; two values that are key to peaceful societies, not only at home in Pakistan, but the world over.

Me (little baby), Mum (carrying me), Dada Abu, my sister, Amma (my grandmother) and Papa.

All his life, he campaigned against social injustice and evils such as extremism, intolerance, terrorism and violence conducted upon women. His poetry, specifically, is infused with folklore and the rich traditions that nurtured his imagination. He offered philosophical reflections on Sindh’s lavish history and some of its crumbling landmarks. He always hoped for a better future for his homeland, and wrote about it relentlessly.

The concept of humanity was further propounded by his spiritual mentor and great Sufi scholar, Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai. It was also Dada Abu’s final wish to be put to rest next to his inspiration in Bhitshah. 'Shah Jo Risalo', written by Shah Abdul Latif Bhittai, was translated by Shaikh Ayaz from Sindhi to Urdu, which further established him as an authority in his field.

This is why his writing career spanned almost six decades. His words ranged from the traditional bait, wa'i and ghazal, to theatre scripts, prose, poems and musings. He also enjoyed writing fiction, memoirs, journals, essays, newspaper articles and editorials. Shaikh Ayaz’s work was transformative and unrestrained, using the full power of language across each genre to articulate and elaborate his extraordinary vision.

My personal favourite is his book The Storm’s Call for Prayers. It is conversational poetry, where Dada Abu reflects upon life, Mother Earth and death. He is a prime example of a poet that expresses universal emotions through personal circumstances that affected his native land.

How wonderful would it have been to delve deeper in his thought process, his creative mind?

His study would always be strewn with books, papers and pens. It would strongly smell of karak chai and fresh ink. Everyone would cautiously walk in an attempt to not disturb anything. No piece of writing was arbitrary in Dada Abu’s creative space.

During childhood, I never truly understood why famous writers and journalists paid us a visit. It was normal to see Bano Qudsia and Ashfaq Ahmed gracing my parents’ wedding photos. It felt normal to hear their big day was on the cover of all newspapers in regional Sindh.

When Dada Abu passed away, late Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto came to pay her respects. I was curious and full of questions, but too naive to understand the impact my grandfather had.





His work still holds relevance in the 21st century, and its explorations of humanism, compassion and egalitarianism should be a cornerstone of our society. What better a birthday gift to Dada Abu than to reconcile that a part of his work and his legacy, still lives in all of us today?





Today, Shaikh Ayaz University is named after Dada Abu. Conferences are held all over South Asia to celebrate his writing. Emerging and established artists cover his songs in coveted shows such as Coke Studio, and Oscar shortlisted films such as Cake have prominently featured his masterpiece, Tiri Pawanda.

When I wrote and published my first book, nobody was prouder than my father. “Baba aaj hotay, tou bahut fakher kartay.” (If Baba was here today, he'd be so proud). I wish he were around for me to get to know him better as an adult. It would have been otherworldly to listen to fascinating tales about his struggles, trials, achievements and inspirations.

How wonderful would it have been to delve deeper in his thought process, his creative mind? He was a brilliant man and a terrific writer, and I am immensely proud to be his granddaughter.

His work still holds relevance in the 21st century, and its explorations of humanism, compassion and egalitarianism should be a cornerstone of our society. What better a birthday gift to Dada Abu than to reconcile that a part of his work and his legacy, still lives in all of us today?