The day when the sky opens
The day when the stars turn dark
I will grasp your skirt, saying:
O beloved, for which guilt I was killed
I remember this quatrain cited by Professor Abdul-Hai Habibi in the last session of a literary seminar, in the Intercontinental Hotel in Kabul. I never forget his articulated enunciation whenever he cited a text, and I dare say, whenever he spoke, and after decades, I remember, completely, whatever I heard from him. I can recall his teaching, not only through my ears of head but also through my ear of soul and heart. I wrote ‘the last session’ so where and when was the first?
The firsts were during the best years of my life, when I was studying in the Kabul University. Late Professor Habibi was teaching us Persian (Dari) Classics, or as we used to say, Ancient Texts. I remembered plenty of verses from classic poetry; whenever he cited a piece of poetry or prose, with his sweet Kandahari dialect, I recalled this verse from great poet, Sa’di:
May thousand loving story-teller nightingales
Learn from you Dari conversation and speech.
Entering to the classroom, he would respond the greetings of students, with a smile, and sit. Initially, we were attracted by his two acts: first the use of two seats of glasses, frequently, when he looked at the text and at us, and then the frequent closing of the lid of pen, immediately after writing down a note, even if it was not in use only for seconds. Later we learned the logic of his reasonable behavior. When we were in second year, we watched his public speeches and his directorate in the academic sessions and seminars. It was the Translation Seminar that took place in the hall of the university‘s library. We, sophomores of the faculty of letters, were allowed to attend the sessions, as “listeners”. There, we learned how the world scholars revered and greeted Prof. Habibi, and how they listened fondly, and carefully paid attention when he lectured or even simply spoke, particularly Iranian letterman, late Dr. Natel Khanlari who liked him very much. Khanlari, as the director of the Pahlawi Foundation, agreed to publish Habibi’s works. The graduation years in the university, where we learned from Habibi were over. I worked for two next years in Balkh and Herat, but I missed those beautiful years, and always dreamed returning to Kabul as it came to reality. There was a plan for the constitution of the Afghan Academy in the Ministry of Information and Culture. In the chart, I was chosen as the secretor for the president of The Afghan Academy, Professor Habibi. The Afghan Academy was being founded on the base of the Afghan Historical Society. It meant that I practically became a member of the Afghan Historical Society and reentered to the instructive circle of my previous teacher and faculty professor. Habibi was such a teacher from whom the students could learn through his lectures and writings as well as his behavior. His actions were precise and sound. He would say a little, but meaningful and scrutinized. As for Farsi (Dari) literature and linguistics in which I was more in touch with my teacher, whatever new point he found he would search about it as much as he could. He would use all available means to assure about the accuracy of a newfound subject. Here is an example from my own experiences:
I had written an article (in 1969) which was under his edit to approve it to be published in the Ariana Quarterly. I remember he came to our office-room and asked me where had I seen the word lashgar (army)? I immediately understood that I should have written Lashkar, but not lashgar. I said it is my fault and I apologize for it; I believed it would be easier for Farsi speakers to pronounce lashgar. He said “ yes, and it is why I would like to know if you had seen it in a credible or classic source.” This incident was so important to me, that I learned how thirsty a scholar should be in finding the accurate facts. I appreciated it with myself when I compared his searching to those who, without any investigation say that is wrong or that is right. Professor Habibi’s behavior was instructive for lucky students who worked with him. Today, after 36 years I can feel his presence, his stout stature however in his seventies, at front of my desk, with a microfilm or a sheet of paper in his hand. He could summon me or other colleagues for inquiry, instead of coming himself, but he did not. Perhaps he liked to teach reverence to others, practically.
In those days the Afghan Historical Society office was located in Qal’a-ye-Fathollah. It was a two-story building, a tiny classic house which was rented for the office. With a small lawn, a few ornamental trees and flowers, more natural than decorated, it looked appropriate for a historical office. It was very calm and comfortable.
In the office, each one of our colleagues had a work projects. Some of them were working fast and some slow. The society had its own academic quarterlies, Ariana and Afghanistan. If I am to name the most active and prolific member of the society, there was nobody more active and prolific than Habibi himself. Among Habibi’s students there were two young researchers who had concentrated all there attentions on his instructions; they were Habibullah Rafi’ and Zalmai Hewadmal, both of whom, now, are well-known professors. From Habibi, every student could learn according to his or her own capacity and ability. Habibi’s books and innumerous articles show his versatility in history and literature. His works, even his preliminary works, are among the historical and literary masterpieces in Afghanistan and abroad. The late professor had innumerous edited works (classic texts edited by professor Habibi). My teacher Dr. Ravan Farhadi in the second volume of The History of The Pashto Language Conjugation, has written a comprehensive biography for Ustad Habibi including a long list of his works.
Habibi had a good sense of humor. However he would say jokes, sometimes, in the offices, but he was more humorous outside, particularly when he was in a picnic with friends and colleagues. He had a treasure of epigrams, japes, and jokes, most of them real and practiced or seen by himself. Everybody liked to listen to those pieces and nobody could help laughing loud. Even some memories that were ordinary when said by others, were extremely interesting to hear when narrated by Habibi.
My career in the Afghanistan Historical Society ended next year and I was appointed in journalistic duties outside the Capital, but after two years, I was lucky to find new opportunity to learn from Prof. Habibi, this time more academically. This time it was in the preliminary sessions to a series of academic seminars. To those sessions senior scholars were invited and weekly sessions were chaired by Habibi. However every scholar would express his or her view about the agenda, but most classic information was delivered by Habibi and modern academic methods were presented by Ravan Farhadi. For young members of these sessions, the lectures, instructions and information given by those two prominent professors were equal to a progressive class in a university. There was a reciprocal reverence between both of scholars, Habibi and Ravan.
Concluding theses lines, here is a short account of the quatrain mentioned in the first paragraph. It was the last of abovementioned seminars; last because the system of the government in Kabul was changed and there was no desire for such seminars anymore. But the last one was held because the invitations for foreign scholars had been delivered before the last government was overthrown. The seminar was directed by Professor Habibi while most his colleagues, in other words, most of the intellectuals and scholars, including Raven Farhadi were imprisoned. In the closing session, Habibi delivered a short speech. While tears in his eyes he cited this quatrain:
The day when the sky opens
The day when the stars turn dark
I will grasp your skirt, saying:
O beloved, for which guilt I was killed
He continued: we attended this seminar in a condition that our most prominent friends, among them, Dr. Ravan Farhadi and Prof. Ismail Moballigh are in jail. We are in deep sorrow and profound grief and we ask the government to release our scholarly friends and colleagues. Even though Ravan Farhadi was released two years later, but unfortunately, famous and prominent Philosopher, Professor Ismail Moballigh was martyred.
Ottawa, April 18, 2007 (translated, with abbreviation, in December 9, 2009) – Asef Fekrat
The day when the stars turn dark
I will grasp your skirt, saying:
O beloved, for which guilt I was killed
I remember this quatrain cited by Professor Abdul-Hai Habibi in the last session of a literary seminar, in the Intercontinental Hotel in Kabul. I never forget his articulated enunciation whenever he cited a text, and I dare say, whenever he spoke, and after decades, I remember, completely, whatever I heard from him. I can recall his teaching, not only through my ears of head but also through my ear of soul and heart. I wrote ‘the last session’ so where and when was the first?
The firsts were during the best years of my life, when I was studying in the Kabul University. Late Professor Habibi was teaching us Persian (Dari) Classics, or as we used to say, Ancient Texts. I remembered plenty of verses from classic poetry; whenever he cited a piece of poetry or prose, with his sweet Kandahari dialect, I recalled this verse from great poet, Sa’di:
May thousand loving story-teller nightingales
Learn from you Dari conversation and speech.
Entering to the classroom, he would respond the greetings of students, with a smile, and sit. Initially, we were attracted by his two acts: first the use of two seats of glasses, frequently, when he looked at the text and at us, and then the frequent closing of the lid of pen, immediately after writing down a note, even if it was not in use only for seconds. Later we learned the logic of his reasonable behavior. When we were in second year, we watched his public speeches and his directorate in the academic sessions and seminars. It was the Translation Seminar that took place in the hall of the university‘s library. We, sophomores of the faculty of letters, were allowed to attend the sessions, as “listeners”. There, we learned how the world scholars revered and greeted Prof. Habibi, and how they listened fondly, and carefully paid attention when he lectured or even simply spoke, particularly Iranian letterman, late Dr. Natel Khanlari who liked him very much. Khanlari, as the director of the Pahlawi Foundation, agreed to publish Habibi’s works. The graduation years in the university, where we learned from Habibi were over. I worked for two next years in Balkh and Herat, but I missed those beautiful years, and always dreamed returning to Kabul as it came to reality. There was a plan for the constitution of the Afghan Academy in the Ministry of Information and Culture. In the chart, I was chosen as the secretor for the president of The Afghan Academy, Professor Habibi. The Afghan Academy was being founded on the base of the Afghan Historical Society. It meant that I practically became a member of the Afghan Historical Society and reentered to the instructive circle of my previous teacher and faculty professor. Habibi was such a teacher from whom the students could learn through his lectures and writings as well as his behavior. His actions were precise and sound. He would say a little, but meaningful and scrutinized. As for Farsi (Dari) literature and linguistics in which I was more in touch with my teacher, whatever new point he found he would search about it as much as he could. He would use all available means to assure about the accuracy of a newfound subject. Here is an example from my own experiences:
I had written an article (in 1969) which was under his edit to approve it to be published in the Ariana Quarterly. I remember he came to our office-room and asked me where had I seen the word lashgar (army)? I immediately understood that I should have written Lashkar, but not lashgar. I said it is my fault and I apologize for it; I believed it would be easier for Farsi speakers to pronounce lashgar. He said “ yes, and it is why I would like to know if you had seen it in a credible or classic source.” This incident was so important to me, that I learned how thirsty a scholar should be in finding the accurate facts. I appreciated it with myself when I compared his searching to those who, without any investigation say that is wrong or that is right. Professor Habibi’s behavior was instructive for lucky students who worked with him. Today, after 36 years I can feel his presence, his stout stature however in his seventies, at front of my desk, with a microfilm or a sheet of paper in his hand. He could summon me or other colleagues for inquiry, instead of coming himself, but he did not. Perhaps he liked to teach reverence to others, practically.
In those days the Afghan Historical Society office was located in Qal’a-ye-Fathollah. It was a two-story building, a tiny classic house which was rented for the office. With a small lawn, a few ornamental trees and flowers, more natural than decorated, it looked appropriate for a historical office. It was very calm and comfortable.
In the office, each one of our colleagues had a work projects. Some of them were working fast and some slow. The society had its own academic quarterlies, Ariana and Afghanistan. If I am to name the most active and prolific member of the society, there was nobody more active and prolific than Habibi himself. Among Habibi’s students there were two young researchers who had concentrated all there attentions on his instructions; they were Habibullah Rafi’ and Zalmai Hewadmal, both of whom, now, are well-known professors. From Habibi, every student could learn according to his or her own capacity and ability. Habibi’s books and innumerous articles show his versatility in history and literature. His works, even his preliminary works, are among the historical and literary masterpieces in Afghanistan and abroad. The late professor had innumerous edited works (classic texts edited by professor Habibi). My teacher Dr. Ravan Farhadi in the second volume of The History of The Pashto Language Conjugation, has written a comprehensive biography for Ustad Habibi including a long list of his works.
Habibi had a good sense of humor. However he would say jokes, sometimes, in the offices, but he was more humorous outside, particularly when he was in a picnic with friends and colleagues. He had a treasure of epigrams, japes, and jokes, most of them real and practiced or seen by himself. Everybody liked to listen to those pieces and nobody could help laughing loud. Even some memories that were ordinary when said by others, were extremely interesting to hear when narrated by Habibi.
My career in the Afghanistan Historical Society ended next year and I was appointed in journalistic duties outside the Capital, but after two years, I was lucky to find new opportunity to learn from Prof. Habibi, this time more academically. This time it was in the preliminary sessions to a series of academic seminars. To those sessions senior scholars were invited and weekly sessions were chaired by Habibi. However every scholar would express his or her view about the agenda, but most classic information was delivered by Habibi and modern academic methods were presented by Ravan Farhadi. For young members of these sessions, the lectures, instructions and information given by those two prominent professors were equal to a progressive class in a university. There was a reciprocal reverence between both of scholars, Habibi and Ravan.
Concluding theses lines, here is a short account of the quatrain mentioned in the first paragraph. It was the last of abovementioned seminars; last because the system of the government in Kabul was changed and there was no desire for such seminars anymore. But the last one was held because the invitations for foreign scholars had been delivered before the last government was overthrown. The seminar was directed by Professor Habibi while most his colleagues, in other words, most of the intellectuals and scholars, including Raven Farhadi were imprisoned. In the closing session, Habibi delivered a short speech. While tears in his eyes he cited this quatrain:
The day when the sky opens
The day when the stars turn dark
I will grasp your skirt, saying:
O beloved, for which guilt I was killed
He continued: we attended this seminar in a condition that our most prominent friends, among them, Dr. Ravan Farhadi and Prof. Ismail Moballigh are in jail. We are in deep sorrow and profound grief and we ask the government to release our scholarly friends and colleagues. Even though Ravan Farhadi was released two years later, but unfortunately, famous and prominent Philosopher, Professor Ismail Moballigh was martyred.
Ottawa, April 18, 2007 (translated, with abbreviation, in December 9, 2009) – Asef Fekrat
