IN MEMORY OF 

                                      A.A. RAVOOF 

                        By Mr. S. Abdul Ghaffar sahib in Crescent dated 26th October 1975

"To meet, to know, 

to love and then to part 

is the sad tale of many 

a human heart."

On the night of the 22nd of Augusr 1975, a scintillating star slipped of the journalistic horizon, Janab A.A. Ravoof saheb, who strode the world of Muslim journalism like colosses for nearly four decades, left this world after performing his prayers which were to be his last prayers of his life on "Shabe Qadar". It seems as though God needed him more in the Celestial abode than we in the terrestrial region. 

To meet Ravoof saheb was simply to love him. Any stranger who met him got the impression that he was treated like a life-long friend. Amiable by disposition and genial by temperament Ravoof saheb endeared himself to one and all. 

LOVERS OF IQBAL AND GHALIB

My association with him lasted half a decade. But I cherish with love and gratitude every meeting of mine with him. Hardly was there an occasion when our conversations were not lively. 

Being ardent lovers of Iqbal and Ghalib we used to ravel in recitation of Urdu couplets. Once he was very busy with his works. Not wanting to disturb him, I remained silent for a while skipping over a magazine lying on his table. Suddenly, he stopped writing and turning towards me, recited this verse from Iqbal:

"Yah khamushi kahan tak,

       lazzate faryad paida kar"

I promply replied with a couplet from the same poet:

"Nahin minnat kashe taabe 

            shuneedan dastaan meri

Khamushi guftugu hai 

             bezubani hai zuban meri"

Ravoof saheb felt so happy at this as to remark that there was a mini 'Mushaira' at the Crescent office. But our mini 'mushairas' were not confined to "Crescent" office. They were held during our telephonic conversation too. 

I have a flair for writing which began from my college days. I leaving the college, I contributed articles to a few leading newspapers and when "Radiance" radiated from Delhi, I took more interest in that Muslim journal. But real opportunities for the full satisfaction of my inner urge to write came when the "Crescent" appeared on the horizon of Madras under the able editorship of Ravoof saheb. This gave me many pleasant opportunities of meeting this great man who was a "gem of the purest ray serene". 

PERSONAL LETTERS

It was my proud privilege to receive personal letters from him asking me to contribute articles for the special issues of "Crescent" and at the same time, making kind enquiries of my family. I remember it was in 1970 that for certain unavoidable reasons I could neither write for the weekly nor could I see him for a few weeks. One day, after finishing the day's work, he, along with his right hand man, Janab Jalal Zackariah saheb, honoured me by his visit to my house. After making kind enquiries and finding me O.K., he said: Now I am terribly relieved of my anxiety." Such was the affection he had for me. 

Ravoof sahib believed in hard work. On more than one occasion he told me that he was never afraid of hard work. Though his heart was weak - he had suffered from heart ailment- he possessed indomitable will and invincible courage. 

Sullen life is no life at all. Life is to be pleasant, should be marked by civilised humour. Ravoof saheb was noted for his witty humour. Once I asked him why some writers reproduce copy-right material without due permission. Pat came the reply: "Because, copy-right is their right to copy." Ravoof saheb's intellect was as sharp as razor and his heart as soft as velvet". 

To be a prolofic writer, one should be a voracious reader. Ravoof saheb was a man of vast learning who can be described as a walking encyclopaedia. According to him, books are the most useful and most harmless companions of man. They speak to you only when you go to them. Otherwise, they rest where they are kept.

SIMPLE STYLE 

Simplicity of style in writing is not that easy. Ravoof saheb's style was unique in that his diction was simply superb. Beautiful phrases and idioms flowed from his pen with tremendous ease and power. 

He was a conscientious man. Otherwise he would have had drawn fat salary in any National newspaper. When I asked him why he had rejected the offer of a post in a leading daily in Madras, he said that acceptance of the offer meant smoothering of his conscience, for, he might have been forced to write in a manner prejudicial to the interest of the Muslim community.