Irrfan, you’ll continue to inspire

The best of men cannot suspend their fate/The good die early and the bad die late. — Daniel Defoe

THE moment I heard the terrible news of Irrfan Khan’s demise, this couplet flashed through my mind. I can empathise with his demise all the more as we were at the same hospital in England, getting treated by the same oncologist, Dr Neil Parker. While Irrfan was suffering from an extremely rare kind of brain cancer, I was getting treated for leukaemia. Seldom does one come across a person like Irrfan who, despite suffering from an incurable type of cancer, showed utmost courage and mental strength.

The French word ‘sangfroid’ encapsulates his joie de vivre. Since our oncologist was common, we’d often meet. An extremely well-read person, he was an MA in Urdu from Rajasthan University. He philosophised death nonchalantly, and would quote John Donne’s ‘Death Be Not Proud.’ Never for a moment did he wallow in self-pity. An agnostic, he would often tell me, ‘Aapki tarah mujhe bhi kisi Creator pe yaqeen nahin hai.’

I saw him get emaciated and lose weight. Yet, he remained cheerful. Fond of cricket, he had represented his university in the sport. He would watch cricket matches on TV and even visited Lord’s, the Mecca of cricket, to watch a Test match between England and Australia.

Urdu poetry was his forte. His favourite poets were Faiz Ahmad Faiz and Bashir Badr. He would quote Bashir’s famous couplet, ‘Ujale apni yaadon ke humare saath rehne do/Na jaane kis gali mein zindagi ki shaam ho jaaye’ (Let the glow of your memories be with me/ Who knows, when the evening of life, death, descends upon me).

The doctors treating him later told me that he never asked them whether he would live. His question to them was: will life again be qualitatively as good as it used to be prior to the diagnosis? He believed in the quality of life, not in a vegitating existence. Blessed with a fabulous sense of humour, he would crack jokes, even in the face of abject adversity and negativity.

Surprisingly, he didn’t talk much about his movies. He was self-effacing to a fault. Most of the time in his hospital room, one would see him pore over an Urdu or English book. He preferred Urdu over English, though he spoke English very well. Because of his frequent visits, he called London his second home.

Whenever I feel depressed about my state, I think of him and get inspired. I’ll cherish the memories of my meeting with him in London, when we sailed in the same boat.

I’ll continue to be inspired by you, Irrfan. Be happy whichever realm you’re in. Adieu, my friend.