My Father, My Pride
Four years have passed since Daddy left us on 12th September 2021, yet his presence feels as alive as the language and culture he so passionately nurtured. On 14th September 2025, when I sat in Tagore Hall Srinagar among scholars, writers, poets, and admirers gathered for Youm-i-Aziz Hajini, I did not just see an event—I felt my father’s soul smiling through every word, every song, every tribute.
Daddy beyond the stage
For many, my father was Dr. Aziz Hajini—a poet, critic, translator, playwright, teacher, administrator, and cultural activist. For me, he was Daddy—the man who taught me to respect knowledge, to love my mother tongue, and to live with humility. Listening to the speakers, I realised how seamlessly he had woven his personal and professional lives together. What he lived at home, he carried into the world; what he carried into the world, he brought back home. To me, he was my sun, moon, sky and the planets – my whole cosmos all rolled into one. He was the embodiment of kindness, grace and affection whose love knew no bounds, whose kindness knew no limit, whose generosity exceeded all bounds. To me, there never was nor will anyone ever be like him.
When people called him “a guardian of Kashmiri language and culture”, I remembered how, even at our dinner table, he would gently remind us never to feel shy of speaking Kashmiri. When they said he was “a beacon light for all Adab activists”, I recalled how he encouraged every young learner he met, no matter how small their beginning was. Never did he ever make a beginner feel intimidated, nor ever a novice felt there were being lectured – they inevitably found themselves basking in the glory of his genius and mastery.
Hearing his words again
One of the most touching moments for me was the presentation of Daddy’s poem “I and My Animal”. The analysis by Dr. Shafqat Altaf brought alive the depth of his thoughts—the conflict between reason and instinct, the struggle of being human. To the audience, it was an academic discussion. To me, it was Daddy speaking again, his words echoing across the hall, reminding me of nights when he would read poetry aloud and then fall silent, lost in thought.
Living through others’ memories
As speaker after speaker recalled their association with him, I felt both proud and humbled. Prof. Shad Ramzan described him as a “literary hero who played his utmost role in promotion of Kashmiri language”. Prof. Naseem Shafaie said that even if Daddy is not physically with us, “his soul watches our activities.” Dr. Rafeeq Masoodi called him “a great personality”, and Dr. Mohammad Shafi Wani remembered him as “a clean man with love for Kashmiri culture in his blood.”
Each of these words was a mirror reflecting Daddy’s life. I realised that the man who was simply “my father” was also a guide, mentor, and companion to so many others.
His legacy in young hands
The felicitation of students who won the Prof. M.D. Hajini Memorial Essay Competition and the conferring of the Aziz Hajini Gold Medal brought tears to my eyes. This was Daddy’s true legacy—nurturing young voices, passing the torch to the next generation, ensuring that Kashmiri language and culture would always have custodians.
The music of his soul
When Waheed Jeelani and his team sang Daddy’s Naat and Ghazal, the hall fell silent. I closed my eyes and listened. It felt as though Daddy himself was there, smiling gently, proud yet humble as always. Music carried his words beyond time, beyond death, into eternity.
My silent promise
As the evening drew to a close, Prof. Zaman Azurdah reminded me and my brother, Azhar, that we must carry forward our father’s mission. Sitting there, I whispered a promise to Daddy: We will, Daddy. We will keep alive the mission you began—with the same honesty, courage, and love that you taught us. The mission can never be forgotten as the covenant is too sacred to be ever forgotten or ignored.
Daddy, you still live
For the world, Daddy was Dr. Aziz Hajini—a scholar, activist, and literary giant. For me, he will always be the father whose quiet presence gave me strength, whose vision shaped my dreams, and whose words continue to guide me even in his absence.
Daddy, you are not gone. You live in every Kashmiri word spoken with pride, in every poem written with truth, in every young heart inspired to love their roots. You live in me, in Azhar, in Aamir, and in all who carry forward your mission.
And as long as Kashmiri language breathes, so will you. As Shakespeare truly said: So long as men live and can see/so long as lives this and gives life to thee.
