Now boast thee death; in thy
possession lies ... Muhammad Salahuddin
There are some people who make a complete mockery of death: they perish to
prevail forever, die to live forever. Life makes them mortal; death immortal.
They die as martyrs and with their martyrdom, the torch of truth shines even
more brightly to light up the path of righteousness.
...Muhammad Salahuddin, undoubtedly, was one of
them.
He was a fearless journalist and a dauntless writer who tread the path of truth
with the majesty of the midday sun. He was a symbol of honour and integrity, and
an embodiment of devotion and commitment. He wanted to see a united Pakistan, a
prosperous Pakistan and fought against the menace of ethnicity till the last
drop of his blood. His uncompromising and unyielding stance against all forces
hostile to Islam and Pakistan wrote a golden chapter in the history of Urdu
journalism. He was `rewarded' for his veracity and his office was wrecked and
house burnt a couple of years ago. This, however, only increased his commitment
to his profession.
Born in trying circumstances, he battled against the vicissitudes of life with
tremendous courage and perseverence. He was possessed with the determination and
will to fight the impossible. Working day and night he made his way through the
hardships of life. It was his utmost desire to die the death of a martyr and
must have beamed victoriously when a dozen bullets pierced his chest on that
desolate december night. `Cowards', he knew, `die many times before their death;
the valiant never taste of death but once'. His murderers, perhaps, did not know
that death would elevate him to sublimity and glorify his mission.
It was a sheer coincidence that just three days before his demise, he had spent
a whole day at the premises of our institute. The authority with which he spoke
and the conviction with which he presented his views are still fresh in our
memory. We can still hear his voice resounding in our ears and the fragrance of
this immortal being still roams the corridors of "Al-Maurid" and reminds us of
the flower that was Salahuddin.
His life was gentle and the elements
So mix'd in him that nature might stand up
And say to all the world
`This was a man'