To pen a eulogy for someone so close to me as late Muhammad Ahmed Zuberi, is not an easy job. I was finding it really difficult to describe his personality and my relationship with him in so many words. But for the record, I have tried to muster enough courage to write on the person who was heads and shoulders above his contemporaries. It was not a lifelong association but companionship of over a decade which makes describing his personality interesting and exciting.
Since much has been published already and will continue to be written on his professional merits and business accolades, I will try and restrict my narrative to one of a very personal nature. It all started with a chance meeting with him. "A journalist never retires; you will join Business Recorder from tomorrow." These were his spontaneous remarks on seeing me sitting with Arshad Zuberi in his office in November 1993. I had gone there on a call from Arshad after my retirement from Pakistan Times. He had entered the room, uttered these words and walked away; and in December I was working for the Business Recorder.
Zuberi Sahib was a very affectionate and considerate man and held all close to him in high esteem - and I was fortunate to have such a relationship with him. Although he was several years senior to me, the proximity of our relationship allowed him to consider me his confidante. He was a bastion of old world values of regard and respect who never found it hard to appreciate professionalism in people.
"Journalism is no longer considered a profession but is treated like any other job. Those who join the profession consider working in a newspaper office like working in a bank or a textile mill," he would comment being disappointed with the slapdash attitude of the younger entrants. He wanted to keep journalism alive with the same respect and elevation that old timers like him and myself had been accustomed to and not as a mere 9 to 5 job.
Zuberi Sahib was a humble and firmly grounded person. If there was ever a morning where I had not gone up to greet him on the 5th floor, I would receive a telephone call on my desk. On enquiring if he wanted to discuss some work with me, he would smilingly respond, "No! Just wanted to say hello and wish you a good day".
Being a profound disciplinarian, he was punctual and regular with his half past nine arrival time at the office, with me or the late Yusuf Muhammadi following in right after. It was on one such occasion when we entered the lift together and the lift operator reached the 5th floor where Zuberi Sahib's office was. He looked expectantly at me to exit, but when I informed him that we had by-passed the 3rd floor where my office was located, he expressed his displeasure and admonished the operator for not having allowed me to exit before we had reached the 5th floor. He had no air and graces, considered the staff as his colleagues and treated them with respect and dignity.
His work ethics were outstanding. Structured and consistent were his requirements that the reporters should meet him first thing in the morning, discuss their day's plan and then disperse. When I was elevated as Assistant Editor Reporting, I requested him to bump-up that meeting time an hour up to 10:30 am. Given that reporters do not operate on a 9 to 5 schedule, such an early meeting would not be necessary unlike in other working environments. Wamiq Zuberi who had by then assumed the editorship, supported me on this and we finally got to change the time. He relented against his will grudgingly saying that the later the reporters would surface, the less would be accomplished. I realise now how astute that statement was.
M.A. Zuberi will always be remembered and read; no book on our country's journalism work would be complete without an account of his achievements. This was a man who rose from a newspaper reporter to own one of the largest media groups in the country.
Zuberi Sahib enjoyed travelling but became weaker in the later years; he would complain about his family's unwillingness to let him travel without a companion. Once he complained to me that his family had hidden his passport because they did not want him to travel. He suggested to me to travel with him to the United States, knowing that I make my annual trips to the same destination to visit my daughters just like he did. We did not travel on that occasion, but were together on two official trips. One was when the then President General Zia ul Haq addressed the United Nations on behalf of the Muslim Ummah and another was with the then Prime Minister Muhammad Khan Junejo to China, Hong Kong, South Korea and the Philippines. On these official engagements, his true class shone through where he would never engage in unproductive hotel lobby chats but stick to the task at hand - to put forth a respectable image for Pakistan's media. Zuberi Sahib sincerely believed in the notion of 'each one, teach one'. Panacea of all ills lay in making people literate, he would say. The establishment of an inclusive education school in Garden East (his former place of living), the first of its kind in Pakistan, is a living example of his first love. He believed that educated people, instead of sitting at home after retirement, must spend their time productively by contributing their share to the society. Since he knew that my wife had taught at Karachi Grammer School, he would often try to convince her that she should join the Business Recorder.
At times when the lift man did not turn up he would take the stairs all the way up to fifth floor. I used to discourage him from taking that kind of exercise, to which his answer would be, "Look here, I will tell you the trick. Climb 10 steps, then stop and count till 10 then proceed further and go on repeating it till you reach the destination."
As a parting comment, I would like to share what Zuberi Sahib said to me after the inaugural function of Aaj TV at the Sheraton, Karachi. I left the place soon after the ceremony. Next morning he came to my room and enquired about my disappearance. "I wanted to have you in the family photograph."
As age had started telling on his physical fitness, his family did not want him to go to office on a daily basis. But Zuberi Sahib was made of different stuff. He displayed lot of courage and determination, no matter what the odds. At his age people generally led a relaxed life and took things easy but he abhorred people telling him that he was ageing. "Look, you have more gray hair than I have," he would tell me. To prove that he was up and kicking, he would be the first in office every day. He used to tell me that on his coming to office regularly his wife says: "he goes to office only to meet Iqbal Mirza." Once while sitting with me in my room he suddenly asked me to call the photographer. Zuberi Sahib t old him to make out a photograph, get it enlarged and make two sets, one for me and one for himself. This was Zuberi Sahib. He would stretch to any length for those he cared. Memories like these will stay with me - because even though he is no more with us today, his written and spoken words will remain.
Zuberi Sahib is no more with us but he will go down in the annals of Journalism and will always be remembered and read in the books. No book on journalism could be complete without mentioning him and his achievements. The man who rose from a reporter to own one of the largest media groups in the country. His sons will have to uphold the lessons learned from their illustrious father and follow the dotted line drawn by him to write another success chapter as a great finale to his memory.
This was for the readers, the other incidents, which are many, I cannot share with others. They will remain with me.