A Nation Is Orphaned

AS I see the mausoleum in Karachi go upward, inch by inch, to shelter the mortalremains of my brother, poignant memories come rushing into mind of that day, a Saturday, the 11th of September 1948, when I lost my elder brother, and my nation became an orphan. Before embarking on this venture to project his life asI saw it, having been his constant companion for more than forty years,' I thought it fit to go to his grave this morning, to offer my prayers, to lay some flowers, andto shed a tear. For, after all, what else can one give to those that one loved, andwho have departed to the Great Beyond. He has become a part of history, andthe pages of this book will endeavor to unfold his fife and work, his years ofstruggle, his days of frustration, his moments of triumph, and the concept,philosophy and ideology which were the basis of his demand for Pakistan.Nature had gifted him with a giant's strength in so far as his determination toachieve the tasks that he had set for himself were concerned, but it had clothedthat will in a frail body, unable to keep pace with the driving force of his restlessmind and will. It was bitter to be afflicted with health that could not stand the rigours of a tumultuous life in the face of overwhelming odds,and to be gifted with a tenaciousness that wanted to. triumph over all obstaclesto lead his people to their ultimate destiny.His political activities and responsibilities had increased manifold during the lastten years of his life, when he had already entered the morning [?] of his old age.Despite the advice of ,his doctors and the pleadings of a younger sister, he didnot spare himself, refusing to take rest or respite. Work,work and more work. Hedrained away the last reserves of his energy like a spendthrift child of nature.Alarmed at his poor health, when I sometimes begged of him not to work suchlong hours and to give up for some time his constant and whirlwind tours thatcarried him from one end of India to another, he would say, "Have you everheard of a General take a holiday, when his army is fighting for its very survivalon a battlefield?" He had the reputation of demolishing a well-built up case withone sentence, and what match could I be for him when it came to arguments?On such occasions I abandoned logic for sentiment, "But your life is precious;and you must take good care of it." With a distant look in his eyes, he said, "Whatis the health of one individual, when I am concerned with the very existence often crore2 Muslims of India? Do you realise how much is at stake?" This wasenough to silence sentimentalism, and he plunged himself deeper and deeperinto the stormy ocean of political struggle to the utter neglect of his health.When the general elections under the newly enacted Government of India Act,1935, were being held in February 1987 all over India, the Muslim League for thefirst time put up its own candidates. At that time the League was neither wellorganised, nor had its message yet reached the Muslim masses. The brunt of theburden of organisation, of rallying public opinion in favour of the League, fell on his shoulders. The more he travelled,addressing mass meetings, the more were the demands made on his time. Hewas flooded with requests inviting him to visit cities, towns and villages, to carrythe message of the League to the Muslims, who were gradually becoming moreand more conscious that unless they stood together, their political future was notsecure.Wherever he went, I was with him. It was a heartening sign to see that the Muslimswere getting over their lethargy; and the increasing number of people that turnedout to listen to him indicated the growing hold the Muslim League was beginning tohave over their minds, as well as of his growing personal popularity. As he spokeof the gigantic strength that the Muslims had in their hands, which could becomedecisive in determining the shape of any scheme of political reforms in the future, ifthey all stood united, loud and prolonged applause would rend the air. Hethundered with the voice of an inspired leader, saying, "Let everyone realise theMuslim League has come to stay. All attempts to subotage the growing popularityof the Muslim League are doomed to failure. The Muslims are marching forward,and no power on earth can suppress their determination to succeed." As he endedhis speech on the soaring crescendo of promise and hope, the huge gatheringswould shout, "Muslim League Zindabad," "Mohamed Ali Jinnah Zindabad."Ever since the League session in Lahore in 1940 passed the resolution, which hascome to be known as the Pakistan Resolution, he whipped his failing health tomake it keep pace with his increasing work. With a scattered and disorganisedfollowing as his only strength, he decided from that year onward to translate thedemand for Pakistan into a heroic chapter of human history. Incessant travelling,long and arduous hours of work, and the worries, that are the only reward that apolitical leader recei-  ves during his days of struggle, were taking a heavy toll, but he paid the price with a smile. His5'101/s"' body that normally weighed around 112 lbs, was losing its weight ounce by ounce, buthe showed supreme indifference to such private matters as his personal health. That should notinterfere with his work. I was once again arguing and pleading with him to put himself in thehands of competent doctors and to pay at least some attention to his physical fitness. But I neversucceeded in stopping the onward rush of the mighty ocean of his will that wanted to sweep awayall obstacles that stood as hinderances in the path of his people.In addition to his duties and responsibilities as the President of the Muslim League, he had also toshoulder the burden of the office of leader of the Muslim League Party in the Central LegislativeAssembly. We left Bombay sometime in [early November] 1940 to attend a session of theAssembly in Delhi that was being held there, inspite of slight temperature that he had beenrunning for the previous few days. He had his dinner, and the train was racing onwards to itsdestination under a clear sky, studded with innumerable twinkling stars. As he lay in bed, hesuddenly shouted out loud, as if some body had pierced him with a red hot iron. I was soon by hisside, and inquired the reason of his shouting. The severity of the pain had benumbed his power ofspeech, and all that he could do was to point with his finger to a spot a little below the spinalchord and to the right side of it. It was obvious the pain was unbearable, and it was clear thatmedical aid could not be obtained on a moving train. In the hope of relieving his pain, I gentlymassaged the part of his body that was causing him so much pain. But finding that it onlyaggravated it, I gave up the attempt in despair, hoping that the train would stop soon at somestation, so that 1 could arrange to get a hot water- bottle for fomentation. The minutes passed on heavy feet, and then I heard the screeching noise of the brakes, andthe train came to a final stop.I called the guard and':: asked him to immediately arrange for a hot waterbottle to be brought to our compartment. Wrapping the bottle in a napkin, I gentlyapplied it on the painful spot, and was relieved to see that the pain somewhatsubsided.The train steamed into Delhi station in the early hours of the morning and wewere soon at 10, Aurangzeb Road, which was our Delhi residence. I supportedmy brother from the car to his bed and immediately called his doctor on thetelephone to come and examine him. After a thorough examination, the doctorpronounced that it was an attack of pleurisy and that he must stay in bed forabout a fortnight. As soon as the doctor left, my brother said to me, "What badluck. It is an important session. My presence is so essential there. And here I am,enjoying the luxury of an enforced confinement in bed." He remained in bed fortwo days and was again at his work. His was a restless spirit, born in a restlessperiod of his nation's history.It was a momentous session of the Central Assembly, and on him fell the task toexplain the stand of the Muslim League on India's participation in the war efforts.As I watched him from the distinguished visitors' gallery rise in his seat to takethe floor, ¢ I wondered if he could at all muster strength to speak for more than afew minutes. He started his speech with a voice that betrayed fatigue, but as heprogressed with his arguments, all trace of wearing disappeared. He was soon inhis element, ridiculing the Government for their insidious propaganda to beguilethe Muslims of India, and indicting the Government for it, saying, "Of course, youcan do a lot by propaganda; but there are certain things which you cannot carryout by inspiring fear alone.... 5 " . . . it has become a fashion [he continued] to givea lecture to the weaker party, and you can  afford to lecture the weaker party. . . . But we cannot really possibly votesupplies in the expenditure of which we have no lot, no share, no controlsWarming up, he continued, . . , if the Congress succeeds in defeating theGovernment, it is not my fault; it is the fault of your constitution; and you haveenacted this constitution; you have been carrying it on-this wooden, antediluvianGovernment for decades now, and you cannot have it both ways. It is yourconstitution, it is of your making.. . . I say this on the floor of this House that the reason why there has not been asettlement between the Hindus and the Musalmans is thatthe Congress leaderswill pardon me for saying this-the Congress is a Hindu organisation, whateverthey may say - that the Hindu leaders and Congress leaders have had always atthe back of their head the basis that the Musalmans have to come within the kenof the Congress and the Hindu raj, that they are a minority, and all that they canjustly press for is merely safeguards as a minority, whereas let me tell thegentlemen of the Congress and the Nationalist Congress Party members that theMusalmans always had at their back the basis -and it has never been differentduring the last 25 years - that they are separate entity. 8At this Mr. M.S. Aney started to heckle him, "At least that was not the view of Mr.Jinnah before 1920". The Quaid-e-Azam retorted, "Since 1916, since theLucknow Pact was passed, on the fundamental principle of two separateentities". Mr. Aney was not satisfied, and he angrily shouted, "I was there." TheQuaid-e-Azam stood unruffled; in a cool voice he said, "My friend may have beenthere, but he was not even heard of at that time". 9 That devastating sentencesilenced the otherwise irrepressible Mr. Aney.He had spoken for about one hour,and he was still on his legs. I wasapprehensive about his health, which was far from satisfactory. Luckily heconcluded his speech, saying,Bhulabhai Desai throughout his speech only emphasized two things:Democracy, democracy, democracy and a national government! What is theuse? Whatever that cabinet may be, it will be responsible to this Legislature -in which Mr. Bhulabhai Desai can command two-thirds of the electedmembers. I will pity the man who happens to be in that cabinet and does notobey the Congress command and the Congress mandate! I oAs we drove home in our car from the Assembly, I saw his hands wereshivering, and his fingers could hold his cigarette with difficulty_ Qn reachinghome, he straight away went to bed, without so much as changing hisclothes.The attack of pleurisy, in my opinion, was the beginning of the sickness thatultimately claimed his life. He could have got over it, if he had taken propercare, if he had kept regular hours, if he had given up exposing himself towind and rain, as he toured the_ subcontinent, almost :uninterruptedly.Thereafter he was always allergic to colds, and the slightest attack of even amild cold would soon deepen into agonising days of fever and coughing.A few months later, to be exact in April 1941, we were on our way fromBombay to Madras, where he was to preside over the Madras session of theAll India Muslim League." When our train was a few hours from Madras, heleft his seat to go to the toilet. I was shocked to find that he walked only afew steps and then collapsed on the wooden plank flooring of the train. Irushed to his side and asked,"Jin, what is wrong?" He smiled, a worn outsmile, "I feel very weak, exhausted". He put his hand on my shoulder, lifted himself up, and wobbled towards his berth. Fortunately, within afew minutes the train came to a halt at an important junction, and thousands ofenthusiastic Leaguers were on the platform, shouting, "Quaid-e-Azam Zindabad".I opened the door of our compartment slightly and shouted, "Don't shout. TheQuaid is in bed, down with fatigue and fever. Run, get a doctor." Within a fewminutes, the doctor came, examined him and said, "Sir, you have a nervousbreakdown, very mild. Nothing serious. But I would not advise you to move aboutfor at least one week. You must confine yourself to bed for a week."We were in Madras, where thousands of delegates had gathered to attend theAll-India Muslim League Session. The Quaid was too weak to address the opensession on the first day, but on the following day he insisted he would deliver hispresidential address. I advised him against it, but finding that he was adamant,begged of him to make a brief speech. "Yes, it will be very brief", he assured.A hushed silence descended on that vast gathering as he rose to address them.He spoke extempore, without notes. He built each point with clarity of thought,and clothed them in a language that was easily intelligible even to the uninitiatedin the intricate complexities of Indian politics of the time. He spoke with the voiceof a leader that knows not only his mind, but was fully aware of the sentiments ofhis own following. The address was far from being brief, for he continued tospeak for over two hours. 12 This leader, who had left a sick bed to be amidsthis people, boldly elucidated the goal of the Muslims of India. He said,Let me tell you as clearly as I can possibly define it that the goal of the All-IndiaMuslim League is this: We want the establishment of completely independentstates in the NorthWest and Eastern Zones of India, with full control finally ofdefence, foreign affairs, communications, customs, currency, exchange, etc. We do not want in anycircumstances a constitution of an All-India character with one government at theCentre. We will never agree to that. If we once agree to that, let me tell you, theMuslims will be absolutely wiped out of existence. We shall never be tributariesof any power or any government at the Centre so far as the North-West andEastern zones of our free national homelands are concerned.I 3I was proud of his performance, but behind that justifiable pride there arose thelurking shadow of the fear of a set-back in his health. The unboundedenthusiasm of that mammoth gathering, however, had injected a powerful tonic inhis worn out body. He forgot his weakness, exhaustion, and fever in the madrush of work into which he had willingly plunged himself.The seven years before the establishment of Pakistan were the busiest andstormiest that he encountered in all his life. He toiled ceaselessly for the Muslimsof India, and they gave him their support and loyalty ungrudgingly. They hadendearingly named him, Quaid-e-Azam, "The Great Leader." and he was nowmore conscious than ever before of his role in the struggle for the emancipationof the Muslims of India. To me, who was always with him, it was a common sightto see him get up from a sick bed with difficulty, looking worn out and exhausted,inspite of the smart clothes that he wore. We would sit in our car on our way toaddress a huge gathering of Muslims, and all along the route he maintained strictsilence, not to marshal his thoughts, but to preserve every ounce of his energy.He entered the ranks of his admiring followers, wearing a grim look, bowingslightly to this side and then to that, saluting and returning the tumultuousgreetings of his party men. His step was firm, his eyes gleaming with hope. Hemounted the dais, and after recitation of some verses from the Holy Quran andspeeches by local leaders, he would walk to the mike. As he surveyed the seething mass ofhumanity that sat in their tens of thousands on bare earth to listen to him, hewould speak to them in a voice that showed no trace of age or ill-health. At everypause they would shout, "Quaid-e-Azam Zindabad." He kept on raising his voiceto a higher and higher crescendo of hope and cheer to his people, who seemedto be trapped in a dreary darkness under a cloudless sky. Little did his peopleknow how tired, worn out, exhausted, and how sick he was. He was their hero,and how can one blame a hero for being heroic?Back home, in the sanctified solitude of his room, he lay prostrate in the bed,breathless with fatigue, gasping for breath. Like many heroes of history, he wasat home with solitude. But his radiating fire warmed the hearts of his people froma distance.Fortunately, he had the capacity of sleeping at will, and so the worries and caresof the day stood on the side-lines of his sub-conscious, even though they did notcompletely melt in the warmth of a sound sleep. With the approach of dawncame fresh letters, fresh requests, new problems, and weighty decisions to bemade. His was a soul that thirsted for service in a body that was worn out bywork and ill-health. He kept up this feverish tempo of life for a number of years,inspite of the recurring bouts of fever that emaciated his body.The demand for Pakistan had been accepted, and Pakistan was established on[14-15] August 1947. As we drove through cheering crowds on the streets ofKarachi to the Governor General's House, little did they know how sick theQuaid-e-Azam was. To his nation it was the day of their independence, to him itwas the moment of fulfilment. The destination had been reached, but the journeywas not yet over. A new State that emerged on the political map of the world hadto face many problems of gigantic magnitude. As the Head of the State, the taskof steering the ship of Pakistan's destiny to a safe harbour fell to his hands that were worn out with work.I watched with sorrow and pain that in his hour of triumph the Quaid-e-Azam wasfar from being physically fit. He had little or no appetite at all, and the best ofdelicacies, prepared with love and care, could not tempt him. His life-long habit ofsleeping when he willed had gone, and he passed many sleepless nights, tossingon restless pillows. His cough increased and, with it, his temperature. Frombeyond the borders of Pakistan came the harrowing tales of massacre ofMuslims, of rape and arson and loot, and these had a damaging effect on hissensitive mind.As he discussed with me these mass killings on the breakfast table, his eyeswere often moist with tears. The sufferings of Muslim refugees that trekked fromIndia into Pakistan, which to them had been the Promised Land, depressed him.Then there was the Constitution of Pakistan to be framed, to which he applied hismind as often as he could find time to sit in his study, surrounded by booksdealing with constitutions of various countries of the world. The problems ofKashmir Muslims, who had been betrayed by an alien and tyrannical ruler,weighed heavily on his mind. Pakistan had taken its place on the map of theworld, but it had yet to take its roots in its own soil. These were the problems ofwhich he talked, morning, noon and night. These were the phantoms thatdisturbed the peace of his mind, and snarled at him like phantoms in anightmare.A few days after our arrival in Karachi, he said at a dinner in his honour at theKarachi club.Miss Fatima Jinnah is a constant source of help and encouragement to me. Inthe days when I was expecting to be taken as a prisoner by the BritishGovernment, it was my sister who encouraged me, and said hopeful things whenrevolution was staring me in the face. Her constant care is about my health.   Little did his listeners realise how bad was the health of their leader.It is a truism that complete success is more fatal to heroic inspiration thancomplete failure. His life's work had been accomplished, and he had been rewarded with the fullest measure of success, but it did not dampen his enthusiasmand zeal for more work in the service of his people. His physical strength hadbeen sapped by the demon of ill-health, but his irrepressible spirit raised its headhigh, braving the challenges that independence brought to his nation. He wantedto face them courageously, to grapple with them, and to find solutions for them.He totally neglected his health, and his coughing and slight temperature werebeginning to worry me more and more. On my insistence he agreed to beexamined by Dr. Col. Rahman, his personal physician. He had an abnormalaversion for doctor's medicines, and I was never able to find out the reasons thatwere at the basis of this life-long habit. Col. Rahman, after examining him, saidhe had a slight attack of malaria and he wanted to treat him on the basis of thatdiagnosis. Quaid-e-Azam put his doctor a number of questions, as if he wascrossexamining a witness in a courtroom. Not satisfied with the doctor'sexplanation, he refused to take the medicines prescribed. - "I don't have malaria.I am run down due to over-work." Rest was obviously the best medicine in such acase, but that he would not take; there was so much to be done. He said to me, "Iwill dig the mine of my physical strength to the last ounce of that metal to servemy people. And when that is exhausted, my work will be done, for life will be nomore."Refugees were pouring into Pakistan from the Khokraparl5 border, and hewanted to be in Lahore to see refugee camps and other arrangements that werebeing made for them. The choice that lay before him was between dereliction ofduty to a cause that he had always held dearer than life and the  loss of health that alone could sustain his life. He chose to listen to the voice ofduty and to turn a deaf ear to the advice of his doctors. The individual in him hadsurrendered all its rights to the leader in him. So we were on the move, fromKarachi to Lahore, in September 1947, about a month after our arrival in Karachi.After a few days at Lahore, we came back to Karachi; and we had hardly remained in Karachi for three weeks, when once again we went to Lahore towardsthe end of October. Achievement of Pakistan had meant for him only the end ofone phase of his life and work and the beginning of another phase, equallyimportant, of consolidating Pakistan and ensuring its stability. He was not goingto desert his place at the period of crisis through which his nation was passing,and he did not spare himself. There were clouds of despondence hovering overthe skies of Pakistan, and he wanted to infuse cheer and hope to dispel ;myfeeling of frustration and desolation. Addressing a mammoth rally at theUniversity Stadium in Lahore on 30th October 1947, he said,Some people might think that the acceptance of the June 3rd plan was a mistakeon the part of the Muslim League. I would like, to tg11 them that theconsequences of any other alternative would have been too disastrous toimagine. On our side we proceeded to implement this plan with a cleanconscience and honest intentions. Time and history will prove that. On the otherhand, history will also record its verdict on those whose treachery andmachinations let loose forces of disorder and disruption in this subcontinentcausing death of lakhs, enormous destruction of property and bringing aboutsuffering and misery to many millions by uprooting them from their homes andhearths and all that was dear to them. The systematic massacre of defencelessand innocent people puts to shame even the most heinous atrocities, committed by the worst tyrants known to history. We have been the victims of adeeply laid and well-planned conspiracy executed with utter disregard of theelementary principles of honesty, chivalry and honour. We thank Providence forgiving us courage and faith to fight these forces of evil. If we take our inspirationand guidance from the Holy Quran, the final victory, I once again say, will beours.l 6As he proceeded with his speech his voice trembled with emotion, and I heardhim speak of death for the first timeAlong with this, keep up your morale. Do not be afraid of death. Our religionteaches us to be always prepared for death. We should face it bravely to savethe honor of Pakistan and Islam. There is no better salvation for a Muslim thanthe death of a martyr for a righteous cause. . . . Do your duty and have faith inGod. There is no power on earth that can undo Pakistan. It has come to stay.l 7He had done what he could as the Head of the State in the interest of theincoming refugees and, satisfied that they would receive all necessary attention,we returned to Karachi. The emotion of the occasion, aggravated by thesufferings of his people, had worn out not only his body, but also his spirit andsoul. He was once again in bed, laid up with exhaustion and a mounting fever. Inthe meantime, the pace of work of the Government of a country that had justemerged, and that was starting its work from scratch, went on increasing fromday to day. Files were pouring in, ministers and secretaries came to seek hisadvice, and peace and rest were impossible.He oscillated between weeks of work and days of rest. He had promised thepeople of the Frontier Province that he would visit Peshawar to personallyexpress his gratitude to them for the wonderful work they had done in thereferendum the previous year by which they decided to accede to Pakistan. He would not let them down and, inorder to fulfil a promise that he had made, we went in April 1948 to Peshawar,where a heavy programme awaited him. In his address to the students of IslamiaCollege on 12th April, he said,On this occasion the thought that is naturally uppermost in my mind is thesupport and help that the movement for the achievement of Pakistan receivedfrom the student community, particularly of this Province. I cannot help feelingthat the unequivocal and unmistakable decision of the people of this Province tojoin Pakistan, which was given through the referendum held last year, washelped considerably by the contribution made by the students. I take particularpride in the fact that the people of this province have never and in no way laggedbehind in the struigle for freedom and achievement of Pakistan. 8IThe next day we drove to Risalpur, where he had to address the officers andmen of the Royal Pakistan Air Force. India had retained military equipment thataccording to understanding arrived at the time of partition had to come toPakistan, and our Air Force was without adequate aircraft and equipment. Onthat occasion, he said,I know also that you are short of aircraft and equipment, but efforts are beingmade to procure the necessary equipment and orders for modern aircraft havealso been placed.But aircraft and personnel in any numbers are of little use, unless there is a teamspirit within the Air Force and strict sense of discipline prevails. I charge you toremember that only with discipline and self reliance can the Royal Pakistan AirForce be worthy of Pakistan.I9 On 14th April, he called a meeting of Civil Officersat Government House in Peshawar. He met  many of them, mixed freely with them, and in an informal talk to them he said,The first thing that I want to tell you is this, that you should not be influenced byany political pressure, by any political party or individual politician. If you want toraise the prestige and greatness of Pakistan, you must not fall a victim to anypressure, but do your duty as servants to the people and the State, fearlesslyand honestly. Service is the backbone of the State. Governments are formed,Governments are defeated, Prime Ministers come and go, Ministers come andgo, but you stay on, and, therefore, there is a very great responsibility placed onyour shoulders. You should have no hand in supporting this political party or thatpolitical party, this political leader or that political leader - this is not yourbusiness. Whichever Government is formed according to the constitution, andwhoever happens to be the Prime Minister or Minister coming into power in theordinary constitutional course, your duty is not only to serve that Governmentloyally and faithfully, but, at the same time, fearlessly, maintaining your highreputation, your prestige, your honour and the integrity of your service. If you willstart with that determination, you will make a great contribution to the building upof the Pakistan of our conception and our dream - a glorious State and one of thegreatest nations in the world.While impressing this upon you on your side, I wish also to take the opportunityof impressing upon our leaders and politicians in the same way that if they evertry to interfere with you and bring political pressure to bear upon you, which leadsto nothing but corruption, bribery and nepotism - which is a horrible disease  and for which not only your Province but others too, are suffering - if they try andinterfere with you in this way, I say, they are doing nothing but disservice toPakistan. . . .May be some of you may fall victims for not satisfying the whims of Ministers. Ihope it does not happen, but you may even be put to trouble not because youare doing anything wrong but because you are doing right. Sacrifices have to bemade and I appeal to you, if need be, to come forward and make the sacrificeand face the position of being put in the blacklist or being otherwise worried ortroubled. If you will give me the opportunity of your sacrifices, some of you atleast, believe me, we will find a remedy for that very soon. I tell you that you willnot remain on the blacklist if you discharge your duties and responsibilitieshonestly, sincerely and loyally to the State. It is you who can give us theopportunity to create a powerful machinery which will give you a complete senseof security. . ..You should try to create an atmosphere and work in such a spiritthat everybody gets a fair deal, and justice is done to everybody. And not merelyshould justice be done but people should feel that justice has been done to them.2 0A few days later, he addressed [the staff and] students of the Edwards College atPeshawar, where he recalled the day when he was "literally dismissed from thisProvince in 1937". He recalled the days of defeat of the Muslim League in theFrontier, and then spoke of the change that came over the Province during thelast two to three years. He expressed his gratitude to the brave Pathans, whogave an overwhelming verdict in favour of Pakistan. He concluded,I want you to keep your heads up as citizens of a free and independent sovereignState. Praise your Government when it deserves. Criticise your Government fearlessly when it deserves. . . . Certainly criticisefearlessly, when a wrong thing is done. I welcome criticism. . . . By that methodyou will improve matters more quickly for the benefit of our own people.21While attending one of the open-air meetings held in Peshawar, the skies wereovercast with foreboding and dark clouds. As the meeting proceeded, it began todrizzle. But thousands of people that had gathered there continued to keep theirseats, undeterred by the threat of rain. My brother could not disappoint them,although, sitting next to him, I advised him that we must leave. He was drenchedto the bone, but he sat throughout the meeting, braving the inclement weather.That night he had a running nose, cold and chill, cough and high temperature. Heturned down my advice to call for a doctor, "It is nothing. Just cold. Iwill get overit."But he never got over it. When we returned to Karachi, he continued to coughconstantly, and when a doctor was forced on him, he learnt that he was in for amild attack of bronchitis. Although he kept in bed for a few days, he regularlyattended to his files that were brought to him.After about six weeks he was feeling a bit better; weakness, however, continuedto persist. I was constantly pleading with him to leave Karachi and to gosomewhere else in Pakistan, to give a chance to his health to recoup. Myarguments were supported by his personal physician, Dr. Rahman, who warnedhim in no unmistakable words that unless he gave up work completely for at leasttwo months and took complete rest, he would only be doing irreparable damageto his health. I was relieved when one day in June he yielded and suggested thatwe should get away from the oppressive heat of a Karachi summer, and go to thecool heights of Quetta. Within a few days of arrival in Quetta, I found there was a marked improvementin his health. He was able to sleep well, and eat well; the coughing had subsided,and the temperature was normal. Only very important files that required hisimmediate attention were brought to him, and it was for the first time in manyyears that he appeared to enjoy a prolonged rest.Occasionally he accepted to attend public functions that were sought to bearranged by different sections of the citizens of Quetta. He used them asoccasions to make his views known on important problems that Pakistan wasfacing at that time. For instance, while replying to a welcome address presentedto him by the Quetta Parsi community, he said, "In the very nature of things it willtake eighteen months to two years before the new constitution of Pakistan isready. . . . "2 2 As he said these words, I. recalled many occasions afterindependence when he spoke to me about his anxiety that a new constitutionshould be framed, which would be liberal, and ensure fundamental freedoms tothe people of Pakistan, and that he hoped to complete this task in about twoyears. "It will be a constitution", he would say, "that will be worthy of a free peopleof a free country." It was very irritating to his sensitive mind that this all-importanttask was being delayed due to his recurring illness.Continuing his reply to the address, he dwelt on the problems of minorities ofPakistan,You know that it is the policy of my Government and myself that every member ofevery community irrespective of caste, colour, creed or race shall be fullyprotected with regard to his life, property and honour and that there should bepeace in Pakistan and law and order should be maintained at any cost.2 3The following day he addressed the officers of the Staff College, Quetta, and inan emphatic voice, he said, One thing more, I am pursuaded to say this because during my talks with one ortwo very high ranking officers I discovered that they did not know the implicationof the Oath taken by troops of Pakistan. Of course, an Oath is only a matter ofform; what is more important is the true spirit and the heart.But it is an important form and I would like to take the opportunity of refreshingyour memory by reading the prescribed Oath to you:I solemnly affirm, in the presence of Almighty God, that I owe allegiance to theConstitution and the Dominion of Pakistan (Mark the words Constitution and theGovernment of the Dominion of Pakistan) and that I will as in duty boundhonestly and faithfully serve in the Dominion of Pakistan Forces and go within theterms of my enrolment wherever I may be ordered by air, land or sea and that Iwill observe and obey all commands of any officer set over me. . . .As I have said just now, the spirit is what really matters. I should like you to studythe Constitution which is in force in Pakistan at present and understand its trueconstitutional and legal implications when you say that you will be faithful to theConstitution of the Dominion 2 4On 15th June in his reply to the Civic Addre: presented to him by the QuettaMunicipality, h said it pained him to find the curse of provincialisi holding sway onevery section of Pakistan, and h advised them to forget that they were BaluchiPathans, Sindhis, Punjabis, Bengalis, but to loo upon themselves as Pakistanisfirst and last. Towarc the end of his reply he said,Representative government and representative institutions are no doubt goodand desirable,  but when people want to reduce them merely to channels of personalaggrandizement, they not only lose their value but earn a bad name. Let us avoidthat and it is possible only if, asI have said, we subject our action to perpetual scrutiny and test them with thetouchstone not of personal or sectional interest but of the good of the State. 2 5He had accepted to perform the opening ceremony of the State Bank of Pakistanin Karachi on 1st July 1948. Afraid that if he undertook the journey to Karachi forthis purpose and returned to Queeta after a day or two, he might have a relapsein his health, I tried to dissuade him from undertaking the journey , andsuggested to let some one else on his behalf read the speech he had preparedfor the occasion. He replied,You know, the Congress and the Hindus prophesied that Pakistan would be abankrupt State, that our people would not know how to run its commerce,industry, banking, shipping, insurance. We must prove that we have the talent torun our country not only in the field of politics, but also in finance and banking. Somy presence is necessary. And then we will return to Quetta in a few days. Whyworry about my health. This is a duty I have to perform. I can't put it off, and say Iam afraid to take risks.This air journey between Quetta and Karachi laid him low, and on the day of theopening of the State Bank he was confined to bed. He was too weak, yet he gotup, dressed for the occasion, and was reading his address before a distinguishedgathering. His very first sentence explained his presence inspite of his badhealth.The opening of the State Bank of Pakistan symbolizes the sovereignity of ourState in the financial sphere.... As you have observed, Mr.Governor, in undivided India banking was kept a close preserve of non-Muslimsand their migration from Western Pakistan has caused a good deal of dislocationin the economic life of our young State. In order that the wheels of commerceand industry should run smoothly, it is imperative that the vacuum caused by theexodus of non-Muslims should be filled without delay. . . . The abnormal rise inthe cost of living has hit the poorer sections of society including those with fixedincomes very hard indeed and is responsible to a great extent for the prevailingunrest in the country. The policy of the Pakistan Government is to stabilise pricesat a level that would be fair to the producer, as well as to the consumer. . . . Theeconomic system of the West has created almost insoluble problems,forhumanity and to many of us it appears that only a miracle can save it fromdisaster that is now facing the world. It has failed to do justice between man andman and to eradicate friction from the international field. On the contrary, it waslargely responsible for the two world wars in the last half century. The Westernworld, inspite of its advantages of mechanization and industrial efficiency is todayin a worse mess than ever before in history. The adoption of Western economictheory and practice will not help us in achieving our goal of creating a happy andcontented people. We must work our destiny in our own way and present to theworld an economic system based on true Islamic concept of equality of manhoodand social justice. We will thereby be fulfilling our mission as Muslims and givingto humanity the message of peace which alone can save it and secure thewelfare, happiness and prosperity of mankind. Every one present must haverealised that the Quaid-e-Azam was in bad health, his voice being scarcely audible, pausing, coughing, as he proceeded with the text of his speech.When we returned to the Governor General's House after the ceremony, he wentto his bed with his clothes and shoes on. Within that emaciated body that lay inbed there burnt the dazzling flame of genius.He had accepted for that evening an invitation to attend a reception at theAmerican Ambassador's house. His ill-health was not to keep him away fromdischarging his official duties. He was soon dressed for the occasion and wewere at the Ambassador's party. He showed no trace of fatigue or weakness; hechatted with the guests that were brought to him; his jovial spirit belying hisextremely poor health. He had to pay the price that an exalted position demandson such occasions and he paid it with a smile.After five days' stay at Karachi, where he attended to some very important filesand work, we returned to Quetta by air. Although he stood the air journey well,the next day he showed signs of weariness and fatigue. A slight fever persisted,adding to his discomfiture and to my anxiety. Once again at Quetta requestsb*egan to pour in from various institutions, and demands were made from somany individuals and leaders, who were anxious to see the Quaid-e-Azam. Hefelt dejected that his health could not permit him to oblige them, and one day hedecided that we move up to Ziarat, a few miles from Quetta, where it would becooler than Quetta and decidedly more restful.The Residency at Ziarat, where we stayed, was a picturesque, old, doublestoried building, standing like a watchful sentry on a rising hillock. It has spaciouslawns and gardens, where the birds sing their morning hymns and their eveningvespers. A cluster of fruit trees and beds of flowers add to the scenic beauty ofthe place, and the Quaid-e-Azam fell in love with its quiet and charm.I was informed by Mrs. Khan, wife of the Cominissioner of Quetta division, that Dr. Riaz Ali Shah was on a visit to Ziarat toexamine one of his patients, and she thought it would be a good idea to have theQuaid-e-Azam examined by Dr. Riaz. When I made the suggestion to my brotherhe turned it down with an emphatic, no, saying he was sure there was nothingseriously wrong with him; only if his stomach was able to digest food a littlebetter, he would soon be on his legs. His life long aversion to being orderedabout by doctors what to do, what to eat, how much to eat, when to sleep, howlong to rest, kept on asserting itself.Up to this time he had refused to undergo a thorough medical check up and toput himself entirely in the hands of doctors, thinking he could will his way tohealth. He had by now realised that his attempts had proved futile, and for thefirst time his health began to give cause for alarm to his own self. I was veryhappy one early morning when he agreed that he should take no more risks, thathe really needed good medical advice and attention. I wasted no time, and askedMr. Farrukh Amin, Private Secretary to the Quaid, to telephone ChaudhriMohammad Ali, who was at the time Secretary General of the Cabinet, that Dr.Col. Ilahi Bux, an eminent physician of Lahore, should be immediately flown outto Ziarat. This was on 21st July 1948.The message had been sent and we waited anxiously the arrival of Col. IlahiBux, as the condition of the Quaid-e-Azam was getting worse every hour. Inspiteof his physical disabilities, his mind was active and alert, his spirit undampenedand undaunted. He had won many battles in life; he faced his struggle against illhealth with confidence. He had spent all his life treading the fiery path of struggleand defiance, and he did not want to end it in the ashes of complacency. Hecontinued to talk to me frequently about the new constitution, about Kashmir,about the refugees; and I could see in his words the agony of a soul that wantedto do so much and who had so little time and strength left to do it. Nonetheless, he believed the candle should goon shedding its light until the dawn had taken over its task.Late in the afternoon of Friday, the 23rd -July 1948, I was relieved to learn fromFarrukh Amin that Col. Ilahi Bux had arrived in Ziarat, and was waitingdownstairs to e..amine the Quaid-e-Azam. I gave the happy news to my brother,and he said in an unenthusiastic voice, "Ask the doctor to see me tomorrowmorning. It is late in the evening now, and I don't want to be disturbed." The nonchallant manner in which he received the news shocked me, and I cajoled him toallow the doctor to examine him, as it was not wise to play with one's life. All thatI received from him by way of an answer was a sweet smile that completelydisarmed me.The following morning I took Col. Ilahi Bux to the Quaid-e-Azam, and before thedoctor could ask any questions from his patient, he said, "I hope, doctor, you hada good journey ".The doctor was now asking him what the trouble was and the history of hissickness and complaints. The Quaid-e-Azam gave faithfully a brief account of allhis ailments since 1934, his emphasis being that he was alright, and that hewould soon be able to work normal hours and keep his scheduled appointments,if his stomach could be set right. He continued,I have been working fourteen hours a day for the last fourteen years. I havenever known what sickness really is. However, for the past few years I getfrequent attacks of fever and coughing. A few days rest enables me to get overthem. Recently they have become more exacting and more frequent and theyhave laid me low.These few sentences had completely exhausted him; the doctor took hold of hisleft arm to check his pulse, and the patient was coughing frequently. "A fewweeks ago", he continued, I had an attack of cold and chill and I have been taking penicillin lozenges. Thereis nothing organically wrong with me, I am sure. It is my stomach, that is the rootcause of my troubles. About fifteen years ago some doctors in London advisedme to undergo an abdominal operation. But when I consulted doctors inGermany they said my stomach was alright. My Bombay doctor at that time toldme I had heart trouble. So, you see, doctors don't agree among themselves.2 7After Col. -Ilahi Bux had thoroughly examined him, he said,Sir, your stomach is alright, but I am not sure about your chest and lungs. I willget your blood and sputum examined; I will, therefore, ask for the necessaryequipment and apparatus and for some doctors to assist me in this task.2 8Quaid-e-Azam listened to the doctor in silence."Sir, you must take nourishing diet in sufficient quantities", the doctor advised.For breakfast you must take porridge, eggs, butter, bread, coffee and plenty ofmilk. For lunch, minced chicken, vegetables, and custard or jelly; for dinner,grilled fish, with sauce of your choice, vegetables and fruit, pudding and coffee."That is a lot, doctor. Do you think my weak stomach can stand all that?""Sir, you need a high caloric diet. It is very essential in your case. "2 9The following morning Dr. Siddiqui, the Civil Surgeon of Quetta, and Dr.Mahmood, the Clinical Pathologist, came with the necessary equipment. Theytook samples of his blood and sputum, and that afternoon I learnt the fatefulnews that the result was positive. The world seemed to be slipping from undermy feet. What could I do? I thought it best that Col. Ilahi Bux should inform him, as it appeared to me to be the only way ofobtaining his fullest cooperation in the matter of diet, rest and treatment. Whenhe stepped into his presence, Dr. Ilahi Bux, in a voice that betrayed no undueanxiety, said, "Sir, I am afraid results of the clinical tests show that you have aninfection of the lungs".He heard the news quietly, and after a few minutes said, "This means that I amsuffering from tuberculosis".Col. Ilahi Bux did not reply. "Tell me, doctor, since how long do you think I havehad it?""I think, Sir, at least two years. But I would like to have an X-ray examination ofthe chest, before I could express any definite opinion on that point. But, Sir, Iassure you it is not very serious. We will do our best, and if your systemresponds well to the treatment, you will soon be alright again.""Does Miss Jinnah know, of this? Did you tell her?" "Yes, Sir, I have.""I think it was a mistake. She is a woman, after all. "3 oJust then I entered the room, and the Quaid asked the doctor, "How long do youthink I will be in bed? You know I have so many responsibilities and I have somuch to do.""It is too early to answer that question, Sir. But everything possible will be ciorneto put you right as soon as possible."I was all alone with my brother, inspite of his pale face, that spoke loudly offatigue and exhaustion. He smiled and said,Fati, so you see, you were right ...... I should have consulted specialistsearlier...... But I am not sorry. Man can only struggle . . . . . . the tongue of destinyis always dumb . . . . . . I will stand my post as long as I can . . . . . . you know, myprinciple has always been . . . . . . never to blindly accept . . . . . . the advice of I have always followed . . . . . . my own will ...... and learnt by hard knocks. Only afew months earlier he had said in his address to the students of Islamia Collegeat Peshawar, "You will learn from your costly experience and the knocks that youshall have received during your life time". To go his own way and to learn by hardknocks, that had been the dominant keynote of his character throughout his life.It was heartening to see that he could eat more than he had done for manyweeks, and in order to tempt his appetite, I engaged as our cook, Amanat Ali,who had learnt the culinary art at the Ritz Hotel in Paris and had been for sometime chef of the Maharaja of Kapurthala. Dr. Ilahi Bux engaged a ladycompounder to take the Quaid's temperature. For the first time, he asked her,"What is my temperature?" She replied firmly, "Sir, I can only say that to theDoctor". He insisted, 'But I must know my own temperature". She was adamant,"Sorry, Sir, I can't tell it to you".As soon as the lady compounder left, he smiled and said to me, "I like people likethat. . . . . . . People, who can be firm . . . . . . and refuse to be cowered down."No visitors were allowed to see the Quaid-e-Azam, but when Mr. HassanIspahani, our Ambassador in Washington, visited our home in Ziarat, the Quaidwas happy to see Mr. Ispahani, who had been his close associate for a numberof years. As he came down after seeing his leader, Mr. Ispahani broke down intears. He could not bear to see that veteran of many fights lay helpless in bed,struggling feebly for his life. He assured Dr. Ilahi Bux that he would be only toohappy to fly out specialists and medicines from America that may be needed. Hewas informed they would gladly ask for it, if it was necessary.In the meantime, on Dr. Ilahi Bux's request, Dr.Riaz Ali Shah, Dr. Alam, the X-ray specialist, and Dr. Ghulam Muhammad, theClinical Pathologist, arrived from Lahore, with the X-ray apparatus andequipment. Their examination and tests confirmed the opinion and findings of Dr.Ilahi Bux. They decided it was necessary to have a night nurse to attend on theQuaid. At first he refused, saying he was being well looked after, and that itwould be sheer waste of money to engage a night nurse, but ultimately heagreed, saying, "My sister has been by my bedside, day and night ...... for somany weeks ...... she must' be tired...... Yes, you can engage a night nurse"."And so sister Phyllis Dunham, who was working in the Civil Hospital, Quetta,came to Ziarat. She proved to be an efficient nurse, and the Quaid liked her for it.Dr. Ilahi Bux was told by Sister Dunham that the Quaid was- wearing silkpyjamas, which had been his life long habit, and that at night he often shiveredwith cold. On this the doctor ordered viyella [?] from Karachi and I had somepyjamas made for him. It gave us reason for hope, when we found that he wasmore restful, slept long hours, and was able to take sufficient food. Histemperature was normal, his coughing had almost subsided, and his bloodpressure gave no cause for anxiety.Towards the ends of July, without prior notice, Mr. Liaquat Ali Khan, the PrimeMinister, arrived in Ziarat accompanied by Chaudhri Mohammad Ali. He askedDr. Ilahi Bux about his diagnosis of Quaid's health. The doctor said that as hehad been invited by me to attend to the Quaid, he could only say what he thoughtof his patient to me. "But, as Prime Minister, I am anxious to know about it." Thedoctor politely answered, "Yes, Sir, but I can't do it without the patient'spermission ".3 2As soon as I was told, as I was sitting with the Quaid, that the Prime Minister andthe Secretary General wanted to see him, I informed him.... After a few minuteshe said, "Go down....... Tell the Prime Minister ...... I will see him.""It is late, Jin. Let them see you tomorrow morning.""No, let him come now. . . . "The two were together for about half an hour, and as soon as Liaquat Ali Khancame down, I went upstairs to my brother. I found him absolutely tired, and hewore a sickly look. He asked me to give him. some fruit juice, and then said,"Send Mr. Mohammed Ali......... The Secretary General of the Cabinet was withhim for about fifteen minutes, and when he was once again alone, I went into hisroom, I asked him if he would have juice or coffee, but his mind was toopreoccupied to answer me. By now it was dinner time, and he said, "You better....... go down....... Have dinner . . . . . . with them.""No ...... that is not correct. . . . . . . They arc ...... our guests here....... Go....... Eatwith them."14th August, when our nation was to celebrate its first anniversary ofIndependence was drawing near and against his doctor's advice, he was thinkingabout the message that he wanted to address the nation on that occasion. Hewas busy at it, inspite of his failing health. The message to be released on theIndependence Day said,Remember, that the establishment of Pakistan is a fact of which there is noparallel in the history of the world. . . . I have full faith in my people. . . .Disappointed in their efforts by other means to strangle the new State at its verybirth, our enemies yet hoped that economic manoeuvres would achieve theobject they had at heart. With all the wealth of argument and detail, which malicecould invent or ill-will devise, they prophesied that Pakistan would be leftbankrupt. And what the fire and sword of the enemy could not achieve, would bebrought about by the ruined finances of the State. But these prophets of evil have beenthoroughly discredited. Our first budget was a surplus one: there is a favourablebalance of trade, and a steady and an all-round improvement in the 33economic field.A few days later the doctors found that his blood pressure was very low; therewas swelling on his feet; and his urinary output had considerably decreased.After a prolonged conference the doctors said to me that he was suffering fromweakness of the heart and kidneys. Ziarat was not good for him in his presentcondition of health. The Quaid agreed with their suggestion, but insisted heshould be shifted to Quetta after 14th August, on which day the First Anniversaryof our Independence was to be celebrated. The doctors were not prepared towait until then, and so ultimately we made ready to leave Ziarat for Quetta on13th August.34He insisted that he would not travel in pyjama suit, saying he had never done thatin his life. I was happy that he continued to show signs of interest in life, and Ibrought out a brand new suit, which he had never worn before, a tie to match, putthe kerchief in his vanity pocket, and made him wear his shining pump shoes. Hewas brought down on a stretcher and was put in a semi-reclining posture in theback seat of the big Bumber car, in which we undertook the journey to Quetta. Isat next to him and sister Dunham in the extra chair, and his A.D.C. sat in frontwith the chauffeur.The car moved slowly to avoid jerks and bumps, and on our way we stoppedtwice, when I had him tea and biscuits. It took us four hours to reach Quetta, andI was apprehensive every minute whether he would be able to stand the strain ofthe journey. As soon as we reached the Residency in Quetta,, where we were tostay, the doctors examined him, and they assured me that he had stood thejourney well. He told his doctors after a few hours. "I feel ...... better here....... At Ziarat...... it was difficult to breathe."3 5He began to improve and Dr. Illahi Bux suggested he should start attendingabout an hour a day to his files, as he thought it better to divert his active mindto some work to prevent it from brooding all the time about his health. He wasvery happy, and he enjoyed this liberty with great relish. After a few days thedoctors asked him to leave his bed and to walk a few steps every day in hisroom with their help, so that it may help the circulation of his blood. Heaccepted the suggestion with a smile, happy that once again after manyweeks he would be able to stand on his legs, instead of lying in a sick bed. Itwas heartening to see that he still showed signs of fight, a hope that wasconfirmed, when he told the doctors the following story,You know, doctor, I will tell you a story. There was a woman who told herdoctor she could not walk, as she had been ill and had been in bed formany months. The doctor said she had recovered and it was necessaryshe should leave her bed and start walking. She refused, inspite ofdoctor's pleadings. Another doctor came, examined her, and gave thesame advice. He paused, tired, breathless. Then another doctor came.He put a flaming stove under her bed, without her knowing it. Sherealised her bed would soon be in flames . . . . . . She rushed out of herbed ...... screaming ...... We all laughed. "Doctor, do you want to do thatwith me ?"36After a little,pause, he said, "Doctor, I like smoking ...... f haven't smokedfor days . . . . . . Can I smoke?"Dr. Ilahi Bux said assuringly, "Yes, Sir, begin with only one a day. Butdon't inhale." I brought out a tin of his favourite brand of cigarettes, Craven A. He had always been a heavy smoker, smoking aboutfifty cigarettes a day.3 7In the evening, the doctor came again; seeing five cigarettes butt ends in theashtray he looked at his patient inquiringly and the Quaid said with a smile,"Yes, Doctor, I smoked five . . . . . . But I didn't inhale." And he laughed,happy as a child.Eid-ul-Fitr was to fall that year on 27th August, 38 and he was busypreparing his Eid day message to the nation. This proved to be the last ofhundreds of speeches he prepared during the course of his long politicalcareer. In this message, he wrote, It is only with united effort and faith in ourdestiny that we shall be able to translate the Pakistan of our dreams intoreality. . . . ssFor us the last Eid-ul-Fitr which followed soon after the birth of Pakistan wasmarred by the tragic happenings in East Punjab. The blood bath of last yearand its aftermath - the mass migration of millions - presented a problem ofunprecedented magnitude. To provide new moorings for this mass of driftinghumanity strained our energies and resources to breaking point. Theimmensity of the task very nearly overwhelmed us and we could only justkeep our heads above water. The brief span of 12 months was not sufficientto see all the Mohajareens settled in profitable employment in Pakistan.Considerable progress has been made in resettling them but a good manyremain to be rehabilitated. We cannot rejoice till every one of them has beenput on his feet again. I am sanguine that by next Eid this formidable andintractable problem will have been solved and all the refugees absorbed inPakiFtan's economy as useful members of society.40Continuing his message he wrote: My Eid message to our brother MuslimSt4tes is one of friendship and goodwill. We are all passing  through perilous times. The drama of power politics that is being staged inPalestine, Indonesia and Kashmir should serve an eye opener to us. It is only byputting up a united front that we can make our voice felt in the counsels of theworld.Let me, therefore, appeal to you - in whatever language you may put, when theessence of my advice is boiled down, it comes to this - that every Musalmanshould serve Pakistan honestly, sincerely and selflessly. 41These turned out to be his last recorded words. ¢ 2 Towards the end of Augustthe Quaid-e-Azam suddenly became apathetic, and one day looking intently intomy eyes, he said, "Fati, I am no more interested ...... in living ...... The sooner I go. . ... . . the -better." These were omnious words. I was shocked, as if I hadcaught a live electric wire. I managed to keep calm and said, "Jin, you will besoon alright, Doctors are hopeful." He smiled, a deathly smile, "No. . . . . . . I don'twant to live."On 1st September Dr. Ilahi Bux in a depressed voice said to me. "The Quaid-eAzam has had a haemorrhage. I am worried. We must take him to Karachi. Thealtitude of Quetta is nog good for him." His health began to deteriorate, and onthe 5th the doctors on examining his sputum found there were signs of germs ofpneumonia and his blood showed evidence of acute infection. He was feelingsuffocated and out of breath and doctors started giving him oxygen. On the 7th Isent a cable to Mr. Ispahani in Washington to fly out American specialists, whosename had been suggested by Dr. Riaz and the following day I telephoned Dr.Mohammad Ali Mistry of Karachi to come immediately to Quetta. There wasanother conference among his doctors, and after weighing the pros and cons ofthe situation, they decided it was necessary to remove him to Karachi at once, asthe altitude of Quetta was bad for his weak heart. They broke the news to me with a heavyheart that there was little hope, and that only a miracle could save his life. When Iinformed my brother about the advice of his doctors to go to Karachi in order toavoid the altitude of Quetta, he said, "Yes . . . . . . take me to Karachi ...... 1 wasborn there . . . . . . I want to be buried . . . . . . there. His eyes closed, and I stayedby his bed side. I could hear his thoughts ramble in the realm of hisunconsciousness. He whispered in his sleep, "Kashmir . . . . . . Give them ...... theright ...... to decide ...... Constitution ...... I will complete it. . . . . . soon. . . . . .Refugees . . . . . . give them ...... all assistance ...... Pakistan. . . ."The Viking of the Goxernor-General was ordered to fly immediately to Quetta,and the doctors decided on 11th September that we should be at the airport attwo in the afternoon on our way back to Karachi. As he was being taken on astretcher into the cabin of the Viking, the pilot and the crew had lined up to givehim a salute. He raised his feeble hand with difficulty and returned their salute.We laid him comfortably in the seats that had been converted into an improvisedbed in the front cabin, and with him sat myself, Dr. Mistry and sister Dunham.The pilot had warned us that he would have to fly at about 7,000 feet for sometime, and as soon as he had crossed the mountains of Baluchistan, he would flyat about 5,000 feet. Oxygen cylinder and gas mask were ready, and I was to givehim oxygen when we were flying at high altitude. We were air-borne and theViking, ascended higher and higher. The Quaid found it difficult to breathe, and Iput the gas mask to his mouth. He took oxygen for some time, and then brushedit away, as if to say to me, "It is useless. It is all over." I asked Dr. Mistry to callDr. Ilahi Bux, and I was happy to see that Dr. Ilahi Bux succeeded in inducing him to take oxygen. I have never had a more anxious air journey in all mylife.After about two hours' flying, we landed at Mauripur Airport at 4.15 in theafternoon. Here he had landed about a year ago, full of hope, full of confidencethat he would build Pakistan into a great nation. Thousands had thronged towelcome him, including cabinet ministers and members of the diplomatic corps.But that day, as instructed in advance, there was no one at the airport. ColonelGeoferry Knowles, the Military Secretary of the Governor-General, was the firstto receive us as we got out of the plane. The Quaid was carried on a stretcher toa military ambulance that had been kept ready to drive him to the GovernorGeneral house. Sister Dunham and I sat with him in the ambulance, which wasbeing driven at a very slow speed, while other members of our party left in cars,only Dr. Ilahi Bux, Dr. Mistry, and the Military Secretary were following ourambulance in the Governor-General's Cadillac.After we had covered about four miles, the ambulanced coughed, as if gaspingfor breath, and came to a sudden stop. After about five minutes, I came out of theambulance and was told that it had run short of petrol. The driver startedfidgeting with the engine, but it would not start. As I entered the ambulanceagain, the Quaid's hands moved slightly, and his eyes looked at me in aninquiring manner. I bent low and said to him, "There is a breakdown in the engineof the ambulance."He closed his eyes.Usually there is a strong sea breeze in Karachi, which keeps the temperaturedown, and relieves the oppressiveness of a warm day. But that day there was nobreeze, and the heat was unbearable. To add to this discomfort, scores of fliesbuzzed around his face, and his hands had lost strength to raise themselves toward off their attack. Sister Dunham and I fanned his face by turns, waiting foranother ambulance to come, every- minute an eternity of agony. He'could not be shiftedto the Cadillac, as it was not big enough for the stretcher. And so we waited,hoping ... . . . .Near by stood hundreds of huts of refugees, who went about their business, notknowing that their Quaid, who had given them a homeland, was in their midst,lying helpless in an ambulance that had run out of petrol. Cars honked on theirway, buses and trucks screamed to their destinations, and we stood there -immobilised in an ambulance that refused to move an inch, with a precious lifeebbing away, drop by drop, breath by breath.We waited for over one hour, and no hour in my life has been so long andpainful. Then came another ambulance. He was carried on the stretcher to thenewly arrived ambulance, and we proceeded, after all, to the Governor-General'shouse. When he was gently put into his bed, Ilahi's watch told me that it hadbeen more than two hours after we had landed at Mauripur airport. Two hoursfrom Quetta to Karachi, and two hours from Mauripur airport to the GovernorGeneral's House.The doctors examined him and said he had been none the worse for the airjourney and the irksome incident of the ambulance. He was soon fast asleep,and the doctors left the Governor-General's House, saying they would be back ina short while. I was now alone with my brother who slept so peacefully. Iintuitively felt it was like the last brilliant flicker of the candle-flame before it hasburnt itself out. In my silence my mind seemed to commune with himOh, Jin, if they could pump out all my blood, and put it in you, so that you maylive as it would will God to take away all my years and give them to you, so thatyou may continue to lead our nation, how grateful I would be to Him. He slept for about two hours, undisturbed. And then he opened his eyes, sawme, and signalled with his head and eyes for me to come .near him. He madeone last attempt and whispered, "Fati, Khuda Hafiz. ...... La Ilaha Il Allah ......Mohammad ...... Rasul ...... Allah." His head dropped slightly to his right, hiseyes closed.I ran out of the room, shouting, screaming, "Doctor, doctor. Be quick. My brotheris dying. Where are the Doctors?"In a few minutes they were there, examining him and giving him injections. Istood there, motionless, speechless. Then I saw them cover his whole body,head to foot, with a white sheet. I knew what it meant. Death had come to takehim away from this life that must end to a life which is Eternal; Immortal.Col. Ilahi Bux walked on heavy feet towards me, put his right palm over my leftshoulder, and wept like a little child. Those tears, in a language without words orvoice, conveyed to me the fatal news. I searched for tears, but the well whereone finds them had dried up. I wanted to scream and cry, but my voice had sunkinto the abyss of speechlessness. I dragged myself to his bed side, and flungmyself like a log of wood on the floor.The news of his death must have spread far and wide. The huge iron-gates ofthe Governor-General's House, where normally strict security measures preventunauthorised entry, opened themselves wide, and endless streams of peoplescame from all directions.Soon many of them were in the room, where he lay, undisturbed, in a sleep thatwas beyond awakening. I sat there, oblivious of my surroundings. I lost count oftime, I had completely lost myself in my irreparable loss.I do not know how long I sat there, staring at the white sheet that covered mybrother's body.But I remember that an elderly lady, whom I had never seen or known put her arms round my neck, and quietly whispered into myear a verse from the Holy Quran:From God he came, To God he returned.