Prof. Mohammad Sharif Chaudhry Rest in Peace

A tribute to my father, Prof. Mohammad Sharif Chaudhry

Yesterday, on my flight back to the US from Karachi, I sat with my laptop, attempting to write this tribute as I wished to honor the wonderful man my father was. I started and stopped several times, each time struggling thru the tears trying to find the words to describe how it feels to be here without him. A week without him, and I still don’t know.

You see, I had a father for 90 years and have only not had a father for eight days, so anything I say today must be understood as the words of someone only eight days old. But still I will try. When fathers go, the kids, no matter how old they are, feel that a shade is lifted and the person who had known them the most, is gone and now they are amongst a generation who knows them as adult only.

As family and friends mourn him, daddy leaves behind a rich legacy of kindness, hard work, honesty, courage and hope.

Born in pre-partition India in Jalandhar to a humble, loving and progressive family, his mother dreamt and prayed for her oldest son to become a “famous heart doctor”. She died when he was only 12 yrs old, but it became his mission to fulfill her dream, graduating from King Edward Medical College in 1952 as the best graduate of his class. After he got married, my mother who had her Masters in Economics, urged him to apply for the coveted Commonwealth Scholarship for his postgraduation, despite the fact that he had a thriving general medicine practice. It was in the late 50’s and he was selected as the only candidate from Pakistan and sent on the scholarship to the UK, receiving his MRCP from Glasgow and Edinburgh in Medicine and Cardiology, and was granted Fellowship (FRCP) in 1976. Some six decades later, it is hard to visualize how prestigious it was in those days to be sent to England for education or training. Daddy was very patriotic and returned from the UK after declining a prestigious consultant position. He felt proud that he was going to contribute to his fledgling country for which his family had sacrificed a lot at partition. He served as the regional overseas adviser to the Royal College of Physicians. For his great contributions to the field of Cardiology, he was awarded the ‘Lifetime Achievement award” by the Dow University of Health Sciences in 2012 and by the APPNA in 2015.

Daddy was considered a dedicated teacher and mentor among the thousands of medical students and doctors who had the fortune of working with him. He served the profession with exemplary dedication, punctuality, intellectual honesty and clinical brilliance. He would often tell others to give back to the country’s institutions as “your country gives you everything – including identity and honor”, something he himself set an example of with singular devotion. He filled his niche and accomplished his task; and left the world better than he found it, by giving it the best he had of himself. He joined Civil Hospital Karachi in the early 60s and rose to become the Prof of Cardiology and then Principal of DMC, and where he worked until his retirement in 1989. During this time, he built the 6 bed cardiology section to a full department, established the first Coronary Care Unit and the first Cardiac Cath lab in Sindh at Civil Hospital Karachi, funded by donations from his grateful and generous patients. He was very involved with Patient Welfare Association of CHK as well. After retiring from government service, he was a visiting Prof at AKU and continued teaching and volunteering his time to free clinics all over the province.

Besides his professional activities, he was involved in a variety of social and charitable organizations, serving as the president of the Karachi Rotary Club and volunteering his time seeing patients for various charities. His loved poetry and my favorite couplet that he taught me as a kid was by the poet Mir Dard:

“Dard-E-Dil K Wastay Paida Kiya Insaan Ko

Warna Ataa’at K Liay Kam Na They, Kar-O-Bayaan”

In summer vacations we would go to Ziarat taking bags of medicines – the patients would wait each summer for us to come, maintaining contact thru the village schoolmaster. Daddy’s work, in a curious way, was a kind of prayer — a way he connected with something beyond himself, a way he tuned into the meaning of service, of giving to others in unreasonable ways and teaching his kids by example. He was a religious man, but his religious devotion was not just rituals, but it found sublime expression in a personal conduct grounded in honesty and a compulsive desire to help others. He would pray for the health of his patients, and also for those that had passed away and held a special place in his heart at the end of his prayers -most times his duas would be longer than his prayers we would joke as we waited for him to finish so we could all eat dinner together.

All his successes in life came by virtue of his personal integrity, professional skill and an uncommon ability to exude warmth and sincerity and unflinching support of our mother. He worked hard with honesty and lived a simple life without any greed and never compromised on his principles. He had inherited no family fortune, political influence or any other similar advantages; just the opposite.

He inspired us to become better persons with his noble deeds and setting an example of sacrifice and content. As a young girl, I did not understand my father at all — why he worked so hard, so late, and so much. It was only later, after I had my own trials in life/career, that I understood. He worked so I might play. He worked so I would have the best education he struggled for himself. He worked so he could give his best to his patients.

As a young man, he was a swimmer, kabaddi player and a runner – he was famous as the fastest walker in the family!

When he drove us to school, he would quiz me on math tables, and as I entered high school, he taught me math, physics and chemistry on weekends. Daddy was present for every frustration, every challenge, and every celebration. He would look me in the eye and say “no effort in life is ever wasted and you will get its rewards at some point in life”. He gave me the greatest gift any parent could give a child: unconditional love and to value myself. There was never a minute in my life when I felt my father didn’t love me. He took an interest in everything I did. He was a great listener. But most of all, he gave me his time. And most importantly, every time I would go home to Karachi, he would make sure I had my favorite chicken sandwiches from KG before I took off. My goodness, how I miss my Dad.

He spent many hours in our beautiful garden, where he and my mom cultivated and grew everything you could imagine – his love and pride were his roses, which he would buy from garden centers in Islamabad and grape vines from Quetta and Turkish fig trees, Singaporean papayas, etc.

As we children one by one left our parents home for the US, building our lives, they would call us regularly. Later on were his emails and Skype video calls…at a time when most of my friend’s fathers were not tech savvy, he wanted to learn to stay in touch with us. Calling his emails as emails would be an injustice however. These weren’t emails — these were strikingly beautiful expressions of emotion towards us. Robert Frost would have approved of these emails. They were short, witty, emotionally charged, colorful and brilliant.

He cared, he was listening, and he was going to help in any way he could. I’m going to miss that so very much. I never made a big decision in my life without him by my side every step of the way. Fathers always want you to measure up to something – and he would keep pushing us to achieve in every way. He was also kind, sweet and generous. “Are you keeping warm in the winter? Are you eating OK – remember, don’t skimp on good nutrition” he would always say in his phone calls. “Do you have enough money?” As he’d slip an envelope with money into your hand as you were leaving back for the US.

A dad is someone who wants to catch you before you fall but instead picks you up, brushes you off, and lets you try again.

Daddy, I love you so much. May you rest in peace always, and when I see you in Heaven someday, we will hug each other, and I’ll look into those loving eyes again.

As a wise man once said: “You’ve lost your father only if you forget everything he taught you. He lives on through you and the so many lives he touched.”

I end this note what he taught us throughout his life, “Always be kind and forgiving. It is always your deed that counts the most. Have faith, believe in God, never give up hope and good days are ahead of you”. He is and always remain my hero, my inspiration, my mentor and the wind beneath my wings.

O Allah, O Lord of the universe! Welcome my father in the beautiful paradise of Firdaus. Forgive him, have mercy on him, comfort him in his grave and lighten his stay (in the grave). O Allah, accept his good deeds and let them increase by many means and surely through his children. O Allah! Elevate his status among the guided people. AMEEN. (To God we belong, and to Him we shall return)