Living in Riyadh in eighties had its challenges. Workplace was fulfilling and challenging; however there was a void in home entertainment. There was one TV channel in Arabic. This vacuum was filled by enterprising businessmen; Indian movies and Pakistani dramas on VHS tapes appeared for rentals. They were surreptitiously distributed from concealed counters fearing omnipresent “Mutawas”,the religious police, wielding batons safeguarding public morality.
With increasing expatriates this underground business grew. Risk takers developed connections withincompounds housing expatriates permitted use of satellite TV. Western programs were videotaped and rented.Those days the most popular serial was “Dallas”. It wasabout feuding oil baron families in Texas. Its main character was
JR Ewing, patriarch of one of the families. He was cool, tough as nails and charismatic; characteristics that fitted our friend Javed Randhawa. Thus we nicknamed him JR, then based in Dammam, Saudi Arabia.
My friendship with JR goes back to early seventies when we were in Punjab University. I was deeply entrenched in student politics when Randhawa joined, fresh off the boat, from Jauharabad in Khushab District. I had completed my Masters in Economics and stayed on to complete my law degree. As the outgoing Union President, we were gearing up to have Javed Hashmi elected as President. The hotbed of student politics was Hostel No 1 during my time. Now its focus shifted to Hostel No 7.
Z A Bhutto was in power and young and brash Mustafa Khar was the all powerful Governor, Punjab. Bhutto had wiped out opposition in the 70’s election of what remained as Pakistan after Bangla Desh. Punjab University Students Union was the last remaining bastion of resistance. Heavy handed Khar was hell bent to prove to his boss that he can conquer and prevail on these irritants.
As Khar’s repressive techniques mounted, it triggered our resolve to resist. It was led by IJT. It was no more “Mr. Nice-guy” format that prevailed during my term as President. Governor Khar had police and administration under his thumb. He used them to create harassment. Using official financial resources, he cobbled together left leaning student organizations led by PSF. They had green signal to use force to subdue “Jamiatias”.
We prepared to face this onslaught assembling our group of diehards. I had a lot more freedom to maneuver in asupporting role. Our group leader was Shahid Iqbal, akaChacha Shahid, due to premature graying of hair. Our core group was Hafeezullah Niazi, Javed Randhawa, Saleem “Jungle” Chaudhry, Farooq Ghazi, Hamayun Mujahid, Kaleem Khurshid, Rashid Masood “sheeda pistool”, Khawaja Falah and many more.
Javed Randhawa got close to me for his very endearing traits. The best way to know a person is through facing adversity together. He was fearless in the face of danger;honest, reliable and fiercely loyal and trustworthy. Youknew you had your back covered. Deeply anchored and confident, he not intimidated by authority or power; hisresponses were measured, strategic and bold. Physicallyfit, he kept his jogging routine all his life. These qualities and value system only grew over time; JR the reliable for me all his life.
Despite brutal resistance and humungous challenges we succeeded in getting Javed Hashmi elected President; standing firm and tall in our beliefs. I will dwell on these experiences in another article.
After University everyone went their own way. I re-connected with JR after I moved to Saudi. My friend and confidante for over four decades, Afzal Ghauri and Randhawa were together in Dammam. When Ghauri joined me in early eighties we were back in the loop; Randhawa was involved in travel business. At the end of his Saudi tenure, despite the choice of moving anywhere in the world, he chose Pakistan as diehard Pakistani.
Since then we have been close no matter where we were located physically. We would have “gupshup” at least once a month. My travel to Pakistan was always coordinated with JR. His wide circle of friends would facilitate if I needed any help. In early 2020 Covid was at its peak, JR was dealing with a condition that forbade exposure. He came out of isolation to get me a fantastic deal for flooring in a house I was building. There would be an active debate between JR and Pervez Bhandara as who will host my first dinner. We spent beautiful times together in company of friends. His loss will hound me for the rest of my life. My reasons for returning to Lahore continue to dwindle.
JR’s loss brought back memories of friends who are no more. My soul mate Rashid Butt who left us so early, my friend and political mentor Iftikhar Feroze, my body armor Maj Rahim Din, my loving parents and my doting sisters each left a void that I have totally failed to fill. My anchor in Hong Kong Pervaiz Syed and I regularly chat about our emotional dents we are encountering as our crop of buddies dwindles.
I was condoling with Amir Randhawa, JR’s son using each other’s shoulder to weep. He recounted JR’s advice “you only have three unconditional friendships in life, your parents, your spouse and kids who respect and care for you, and your lifelong enduring friends.” It is the juice of life that I shall convey to immediate family before I pass on. I regularly pray for those who have moved on and those around that I relish and share my golden years with.
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