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Zulfi My Friend (English Version)

Zulfi My Friend (English Version)

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Published by Sani Panhwar
Zulfi My Friend (English Version)
By: Piloo Mody
Produced in PDF Format
By: Sani H. Panhwar
Member Sindh Council
Zulfi My Friend (English Version)
By: Piloo Mody
Produced in PDF Format
By: Sani H. Panhwar
Member Sindh Council

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Categories:Types, School Work
Published by: Sani Panhwar on Aug 20, 2008
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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01/05/2013

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Zulfi My Friend; Copyright ©www.bhutto.org 1
 
Zulfi My Friend; Copyright ©www.bhutto.org 2
Preface
I
 
LAY NO
claim to objectivity, nor is this a biography in the true sense of the term. As afriend I find it difficult to attain the first—though I shall try; the second requires intensiveresearch and a scholarly approach, either of which I refuse to plead guilty. In undertakingthis task I have allowed myself the luxury of time that I cannot afford and fulfilled afancy which I will not discuss. My excuse for writing this book is really a request madeby the publisher and a pandering to a vanity I would have preferred to conceal.Zulfikar Ali Shahnawaz Bhutto has been, and will always continue to be a very dearfriend—not because he is the most sensible of men, not because he is balanced and fair-minded, not because be is truthful and forthright, not because he is the President of Pakistan, but because he is Zulfi, warm and loyal to those whom he loves, affectionateand tolerant to human weakness. He also happens to be the central figure and dominantpersonality in the six most formative years of my life between 1945 and 1950, betweenthe ages of 18 and 24.For India and what later became Pakistan, these were the crucial years. In 1945 Pakistanwas a pipe dream; by 1946 it was an obsession, by 1947 an established fact. For twoyoung men living in post War India it was the beginning of things, the fulfillment of national pride with the prospect of a great and glorious future. Our interminableconversations invariably started and ended with politics, having run through the entiregamut of life as we saw it— entertainment, movies, books, friends, sex and back topolitics. Nehru, Jinnah and Mahatma Gandhi were all distant figures in a drama thatinvolved considerable heat but little action. Had we agreed then, there would have beenno argument: if we were to agree today, there would be no dialogue.By background, tradition, custom and family life we were poles apart; yet it made nodifference. Its politics I was with India and Nehru, Zulfi was with Jinnah and Pakistan.Over the years I might have drifted away from Nehru, but Zulfi’s loyalty remained firm.
New Delhi Piloo Mody
 
Zulfi My Friend; Copyright ©www.bhutto.org 3
1First Encounter
W
AIT, I AM going down!” were the first words that I ever uttered to Zulfikar AliShahnawaz Bhutto. I was ten, and he was nine years sold. Both of us were at theCathedral Boys’ School in Bombay. I was even in those days generously endowed andZulfikar was only skin and bones held together by a squeaky high-pitched voice. Zulfiwas really the friend of my cousin, Jehangir Mugaseth, the son of my mother’s youngersister. Of all my cousins, Jehangir was the closest to me, being of my age-group: he wasonly slightly younger than I; and his sister Silloo was only slightly older. As kids, wethree grew up together, my own brothers being too old for me: Kali is four years mysenior and Russi almost nine years older. Silloo and Jehangir always had a roomful of toys arid I used to go, or rather was sent, to play with them in the house where they livedat Byculia. Often they would come and spend weekends with me where we lived atCuniballa Hill.Soon thereafter the Mugaseths moved to Marine Lines, Sjlioo went to the CathedralGirls’ High School, and Jehangir followed me a year later to the Boys’ School. Zulfi,whose background I have already described, unfortunately had not gone to any school buthad been taught this and that at home; he was being sent to school about the same time.Our Principal, Col. Hammond, thought that perhaps Zulfi should join the Girls’ Schoolbefore he could be admitted into the first standard at the Boys’ School. But Zulfi revoltedat the idea and Col. Hammond patted him on the back and said:“That’s the spirit, boy!” and admitted him into the first standard of the Boys’ School,where Jehangir was also studying.This is perhaps the main reason why Zulfi’s early school career was not as bright as itmight have been, considering his potential—he was always trying to make up for theyears lost in kindergarten and primary school. It is here that the two boys met anddeveloped a friendship which included going to each other’s house to spend the day andplay. It was on these occasions when Zulfi was playing at Jehangir’s house that I used torun into him. I still recall quite clearly seeing Zulfi in his boy scout’s khaki uniform, withits half pants, its broad leather belt, black woolen stockings and white sneakers, with acouple of green ribbons displayed at the calves to indicate that he belonged to SavageHouse of the Cathedral School. His whole make-up coupled with his high-pitchedsqueaky voice always seemed somewhat incongruous to me.That is how he remained in my memory as I went to the Doon School for the next fiveyears. Zulfi continued at the Cathedral till I returned to Bombay in 1945 after havingfinished my H.S.C., to meet him again as a grown boy entering his final year inpreparation for his Senior Cambridge examination at the Cathedral. His voice hadimproved, and he had grown to be a tall and good- looking adolescent with tolerablemanners and the correct amount of deference.

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