Appreciations

If Dad was living today, he would cut this out, photocopy it and pass it around his staff in the office. He was my biggest fan, because in many ways I lived a dream that was not to be his. My father, Yusuf Ibrahim Jafferjee, died on January 15, this year, two months after turning 80 on Poppy Day 2006. Many would say this was a ripe age to live to and passing away cannot be grieved. My father, though, was young beyond his years; and death, although for him a life-long fascination, was one that came too early.

My father lived a life of unfulfilled dreams. He could have been the proverbial poet. Instead of fathering two children and nurturing a flourishing business as one of the pioneers in the timber trade, he could have wandered the world and penned his poems for his and others’ pleasures. His writing was a mix of prose and poetry, often joyful, usually pensive and emotive, and sometimes caustic and blistering. He had a power of the written word that came to him young in his life, nurtured by the hours he whiled away at the library of St. Joseph’s College and the Public Library.

Among his proudest achievements that he carried throughout his life, was obtaining a Distinction in English at the S.S.C exam in 1945; which under colonial standards was no small achievement. I believe that his ability to quote flawlessly from poems read fifty, sixty years ago was a reflection of his passionate encounters with dead poets, as much as an impressive memory for detail.

His wit was also legendary. He had a gift for coining phrases of people, situations and circumstances that made eyes roll, faces flush and bring forth peals of laughter on many an occasion.

He had the talent, I the opportunities. And it was I who realised some of the ambitions he dreamed for himself. I disappointed him no doubt, and conflicts we had aplenty. Yet, my father forged ahead finding fulfilment, even happiness, in running his trade and watching it flourish. And in the end, being the family man he also essentially was, accepted what he could not change and loved us as we are. He sacrificed much, so that I could be who I am today.

Thank you for the sacrifices