YOU may not have seen him but, if you belong to my generation — on either side of the border — it is impossible not to have heard Moin Akhtar, whether in India or in Pakistan. His ‘comedy' audio cassettes were all the rage in the subcontinent and they tickled a whole generation. In fact, Pakistan's most celebrated stand-up comedian, who died in Karachi Friday, has left behind him a legion of fans who will always raise a chuckle whenever they remember him. Akhtar took his comedy seriously. Very seriously. Though Akhtar started his career as an actor and then even took to singing, he finally found his calling as a stand-up comedian. It was during my early childhood — I spent some of my best days as a child and teenager in Pakistan — when his first music album, a tribute to the legendary Pakistani singer, Ahmed Rushdi, was released. All the songs in this album were originally sung by Rushdi. Coincidentally, it was also the album my cousin Sarah Hassan launched her singing career with. (Sarah was his only female co-singer in that album.) It was during this time, that I crossed path with Moin Akhtar or Moin uncle, as I fondly called him. Though he was my uncle's friend and used to meet him every weekend to rent old videos, I still remember the squeaking of his car's horn as he wound his way toward my uncle's house. Once I spilled hot tea over him while he was talking with my uncle. I first got scared and then suddenly giggled. Obviously, my uncle got angry but Moin uncle stopped him despite being hurt. “Don't be angry… look what a cute smile…. if this makes her smile… let her throw the tea on me again and again,” he quipped. Indeed it was such kind gestures that endeared Moin Akhtar, the human being, to me and to all his fans around the world. I remember he was there to toss a ball when we were playing cricket in the streets of Karachi outside my home; he was there to support us when we organized community events; and he was there to pat our backs when we attempted to do our small bit for the society. I was a bold and adventurous child. Once, when I had busted an Afghani drug ring — a gang of local boys who were selling drugs in my residential area ‘PECHS Block 2' — the first one to come over to our house and congratulate us with lots of chocolates was none other than Moin uncle. However, after he praised me, I could sense he was more concerned that my identity remained undercover. “No one other than us should know that your daughter had given this tip off to the police,” he cautioned my mother gently. “I know your daughter has done us all proud but she should keep this to herself, lest the drug dealers start looking for her.” Not surprising then that Moin uncle left an indelible impression in my young mind. I found him humble, lively and patriotic. He valued children and encouraged them to play an active role in strengthening the society. But, by all accounts, what mattered most to him was to laugh and make others laugh with him. True hallmark of a good human being — a human being who did his best to alleviate the sufferings of those around him with his comedy. And it was thanks to this intrinsic quality as a human being that I bonded with Moin uncle. It took time but I realized that Moin uncle was a man of emotions. He was keen to make others around him laugh because he understood their pangs of pain and suffering. I recollect him in tears when my kitten was accidentally crushed under his car. I started crying loud — Moin uncle got off his car, held me close to him and sobbed as well. After that incident, I never saw him park his car in the same place. He later confided that it reminded him of my dead kitten. Then, as I moved to Saudi Arabia after my marriage, I lost touch with Moin uncle. He became a part of my childhood memory but those memories used to rush back each time I saw him in his myriad TV shows. Clearly, he has fan following not just in the subcontinent but around the world. I know many Urdu-speaking Saudi families here who admire his ‘decent' wit and satire, and enjoy watching his shows like “Loose Talk”. They may not know him personally but his fans in the Kingdom are equally grieved by Moin uncle's sudden demise. I visited many blogs on him and found unanimity; they all joined in to praise Moin uncle's genius and pay tribute to an artist and human being par excellence. I am sure everyone who knew or had the chance to meet and interact with Moin uncle has his or her favorite moment with him that they will continue to cherish. I have mine: the abovementioned incident when I accidentally spilled piping hot tea on him and, forgetting his pain, Moin uncle smiled back as I giggled innocently. That incident made me realize what Moin uncle was most fond of: smiles! To him the most important thing was to smile — and to spread smiles. Even in the face of adversity. After the tears have dried up, I am pretty sure Moin uncle would like his fans to remember him not with tears rolling down their cheeks but with smiles lighting up faces. That's a tribute that is fit for someone who spent his lifetime spreading smiles.
