Farewell, by Jagjit Singh I have been asked to say a few words by Leana and the family on this sudden and sad occasion. I do so on behalf of my brother, Gurdial, who unfortunately cannot be with us today from India on account of his own ill-health. However, he and Shafiq have been the closest of friends - all the way from their childhood through to their student days in London and their political careers in Uganda. We have always looked upon Shafiq as an elder brother - almost a father figure, and derived great inspiration from his leadership in East Africa in civic and political matters. He has had a most illustrious political career in East Africa from the 1960s to the 1980s. To put things into perspective, in the 1960s soon after Uganda achieved its independence, when I was taking my GCSEs and 'A' levels, Shafiq was already a member of parliament, a member of the Cabinet, Minister of East African Community Affairs, and a household name in East Africa. We remember him fondly both as a great sportsman and a great leader in his own right, from the early 1960s when he was part of the freedom movement that led to Uganda’s independence in 1962. Our two families go back along way - effectively to the turn of the last century, when Shafiq’s father and my father travelled together on the same ship from Bombay to Mombassa in the early 1900s. They were both employed in the East African Railways and Harbours. Shafiq and my brother Gurdial grew up together in the teens in the 1930s and 1940s. They were students together in Uganda and later in London in the 1950s. They were then involved in the political struggle in Uganda in the 1960s until their exile from Uganda in the early 1970s following the military takeover by Idi Amin. They were then both involved in Uganda politics again in the 1980s in representing Uganda overseas - Shafiq representing Uganda in London as its High Commissioner, and Gurdial representing Uganda in India. That relationship has continued into their retirements so much so that they would communicate with each other almost on a weekly basis to keep up with family and world events. We have all drawn great inspiration from Shafiq’s contribution to political and civic life in East Africa. He was a radical, both in his personal secular beliefs and in his politics. I am sure that he will continue to be a living inspiration for us all even though he is no longer physically with us. I am always reminded on such occasions of a poem by Dylan Thomas in memory of his father. Writing about his father’s death, Dylan Thomas wrote: “Do not go gentle into that goodnight, Rage, rage against the dying of the light” However, in the light of the philosophy of eastern mystic saints and particularly of Sultan Bahu and Bulleh Shah, it seems to me that on an occasion of this nature it would be more appropriate to say: “Go gently into that new dawn, For every ending has a new beginning, Every cloud has a silver lining, Every winter must bring forth a new spring.” For as the Sufi mystics have so often said, the body is merely an outer garment that we wear and death does not affect the soul that is imperishable. I should therefore like to end by quoting from a poem of the great Persian Sufi mystic saint, Maulana Rum when he states: “Everyone is so afraid of death, But the real Sufis just laugh: they have no fear of death in their hearts. What strikes the oyster’s shell does not damage the pearl within.” We are gathered today here briefly to say farewell to a dear and beloved friend who meant many different things to many different people - as a husband, a father, a grandfather, a brother, a friend. The important thing, however, is that death does not diminish a man of such stature and for him, the end of one journey is merely the beginning of another journey somewhere else, and whilst we say farewell here, by way of spiritual closure, we ask the Lord’s blessing for the new journey of this beloved departed soul. Jagjit Singh 24/3/05 Kensal Green Cemetery