{"id":1867,"date":"2026-09-29T14:03:48","date_gmt":"2026-09-29T09:03:48","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/?p=1867"},"modified":"2026-09-29T14:03:48","modified_gmt":"2026-09-29T09:03:48","slug":"never-forgotten-remembering-my-father-20-years-after-his-death","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/?p=1867","title":{"rendered":"Never forgotten: Remembering my father, 20 years after his death"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

Twenty years have passed since my father, Khalique Ibrahim Khalique, died on September 29, 2006, at the age of 80. Twenty years is a long time, but some losses never fade. We learn to live with them, but the memories remain. My father may no longer be with me, but his words, values and lessons continue to shape my life.<\/strong><\/p>\n

When I remember him today, I do not think only of his achievements as a filmmaker, writer and poet. I think of him as my father and of the lasting influence he had on my life. His professional achievements mattered, but for me, his greatest contribution was the person he helped me become.<\/p>\n

My father believed in honesty, hard work and good character. He taught me that success was not simply about money, position or recognition. What mattered more was how you live and how you treat other people.<\/p>\n

This was one of the most important lessons I learnt from him. He believed that a person should remain honest at all times. Doing the right thing is not always easy, but it is always important. When life offers an easier path, our character is revealed by the choices we make.<\/p>\n

He also taught me to have the courage to stand by my principles. He had strong views and was never afraid to express them. He believed people should think for themselves rather than simply follow others.<\/p>\n

His own life reflected this belief. Through his work as a documentary filmmaker, he explored subjects that encouraged people to think about Pakistan, its history, culture and people. He believed films could do more than entertain. They could educate, preserve history and make people see familiar things differently.<\/p>\n

He began his professional career in the 1940s and later became one of Pakistan\u2019s pioneering documentary filmmakers. During his long career, he produced many documentaries, and his work was shown in different parts of the world. He received several awards and honours for his contribution to filmmaking.<\/p>\n

But I never saw him as someone mainly interested in awards or fame. What mattered to him was the work itself. He wanted his films and writings to have a purpose, to make people learn and think about something or see the world from another point of view.<\/p>\n

That taught me another important lesson that whatever work we do, we should try to give it meaning. Recognition may come and go, but meaningful work can leave a lasting impression.<\/p>\n

My father taught me never to stop learning. He encouraged me to ask questions and listen to others. As I have grown older, I have realised how valuable that lesson is. We live in a world where people are often quick to form opinions. He taught me to listen first and understand before making a judgement. Listening does not mean that we have to agree with everyone; it simply means respecting others enough to hear what they have to say.<\/p>\n

He also had great respect for ordinary people and their experiences. He understood that everyone has a story. A person\u2019s social position, wealth or profession did not determine their worth, and we should value people for who they were.<\/p>\n

We should treat people with respect and kindness and never look down on anyone. We never really know what another person has experienced or what difficulties they may be facing. Many of his lessons did not come through long speeches or direct advice. I learnt them simply by watching him.<\/p>\n

Children learn a great deal from their parents without realising it. They watch how their parents deal with problems, speak to people, behave when they are angry and respond when things do not go according to plan.<\/p>\n

His career was not always free from controversy. One of his documentaries on Mirza Ghalib was banned in Pakistan during the period of General Zia-ul-Haq. Yet experiences like this did not stop him from expressing himself or pursuing his creative work.<\/p>\n

Another lesson I learnt from him was the importance of humility. Despite his achievements, he never behaved as though he was better than other people. He valued knowledge but remained willing to learn. He achieved recognition, but he did not allow it to define him.<\/p>\n

That lesson has stayed with me. Success can be useful, but it should never become the measure of a person\u2019s worth. There is always more to learn and always a reason to remain humble.<\/p>\n

My father also encouraged us to have dreams. He believed people should aim high and make the most of their abilities, but he also believed that ambition should be guided by good values.<\/p>\n

I have come to understand this better with age. It is important to work hard and aim for success, but how we achieve that success matters just as much. There is little value in reaching a goal if we have to sacrifice our honesty, kindness or self-respect along the way.<\/p>\n

My father lived through a period of enormous change. He witnessed the final years of British India, the creation of Pakistan and many of the political and social changes that followed. His life was closely connected with the history of Pakistan.<\/p>\n

Through his films and writings, he tried to record parts of Pakistan\u2019s history and culture. He understood the importance of preserving the stories of a country and its people. His work remains part of that cultural record. However, for me, his most important legacy is not found in his films, books or awards. It is found in the lessons he left with his family.<\/p>\n

As the years have passed, I have come to understand my father differently. When I was young, he was simply my father. As I grew older, I began to appreciate the person behind the role, the challenges he had faced, the work he had done and the values that guided him. There are many things I wish I could discuss with him today.<\/p>\n

I would like to tell him how the world has changed and hear his views on the world we live in now. I would like to share some of the experiences I have had since his death and ask what he would have done in situations where I have had to make difficult decisions.<\/p>\n

That is one of the hardest things about losing a father. Life continues, but there are always moments when you wish you could pick up the phone, sit down with him or simply hear his voice again.<\/p>\n

Over the years, I have realised that although I cannot speak to my father in person, the lessons he taught me are still with me.<\/p>\n

When I face a difficult decision, I often return to the values he taught me; be honest, be fair, listen to people, treat everyone with respect, do not be afraid to stand by what you believe is right, keep learning, stay humble and never allow success to become more important than character. These lessons have become part of me.<\/p>\n

Like everyone, I have made mistakes. I have not always followed these principles perfectly. But having been taught them has given me something to return to when I lose my way. That, perhaps, is the greatest gift a father can give a child.<\/p>\n

A father cannot always protect a child from difficulties. He cannot make every decision for them or prevent them from making mistakes. But they can give them values that help them find their way through life. My father gave me those values.<\/p>\n

Twenty years after his death, I do not want to remember him only through the date on which he passed away. I want to remember the life he lived, the work he did and, most of all, the person he was.<\/p>\n

I remember his love of ideas, his interest in people, his commitment to his work and his belief in honesty and character. I remember his encouragement to think independently and keep learning. I remember the importance he placed on treating people with dignity. These are the things that remain.<\/p>\n

A person\u2019s life does not end completely when they die. Something of them continues through the people they influenced, the work they left behind and the values they passed on to others. My father left all three.<\/p>\n

His films and writings remain part of his professional legacy. His work continues to tell stories about the country and its people. But his greatest legacy for me is personal. It lives on in the way I think, the values I try to follow and the choices I make.<\/p>\n

I still miss him. I still think about him. I still wish I could have one more conversation with him. But I also feel grateful.<\/p>\n

Grateful that I had him as my father. Grateful for the lessons he taught me. Grateful for the example he gave me. And grateful that, even after his death, his influence remains part of my life. I cannot bring back the years we have lost. But I can honour his memory by trying to live by the values he taught me.<\/p>\n

That is how I remember my father, Khalique Ibrahim Khalique, and that is how he continues to live on in my life.<\/p>\n

The writer is a seasoned journalist and a communications professional.<\/strong><\/p>\n

He can be reached at tariqkik@gmail.com<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Twenty years have passed since my father, Khalique Ibrahim Khalique, died on September 29, 2006, at the age of 80. Twenty years is a long time, but some losses never fade. We learn to live with them, but the memories remain. My father may no longer be with me, but his words, values and lessons continue to shape my life. When I remember him today, I do not think only of his achievements as a filmmaker, writer and poet. I think of him as my father and of the lasting…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1867","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-english"],"gutentor_comment":0,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1867","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1867"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1867\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1867"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1867"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/ipp-news.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1867"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}