A local activist and Evergreen Professor passed away a few weeks ago, and his memorial was Saturday. He was a friendly acquaintance who I deeply respected.
A lot of great stories were told about him. He was born in 1939 to a liberal Muslim family in India. When Independence and partition came, his family had to flee for their lives to Pakistan, in spite of being much more comfortable with the comparatively secular Indian culture of the time. One of the final great fuckyous from the British to everyone on the Indian subcontinent was drawing the border between India and Pakistan in a perfectly straight line that paid no attention to actual demographics or geography.
His son told stories of growing up with Zahid as his father. Instead of being taught baseball and basketball, he was taught Bridge and Whist. There was no Monopoly board in the house; but there was an edition of a game called Class Struggle. Junk food in his house was Kebabs rather than hot dogs or hamburgers.
Zahid loved to host parties and at he served chicken curry and Indian and Pakistani sweets he made himself. Some friends made the mistake of inviting him over to see Downton Abby. He watched the program silently, but restlessly; when the episode ended he said, "bloody Brits! I'm glad we beat them at cricket last week!" (We being Pakistan). He was a member of the local Unitarian Church and of the local Islamic Center. I don't know his exact religious beliefs, but whatever the details they were deeply humane, and valued justice and kindness over theological quibbling.
Literally in his last hours on his death bed, he comforted the doctors and nurses at Mother Josephs, telling them not to be so worried. He died during the Muslim holiday Eid al-Adha. His last words were Happy "Eid al-Adha", and "Salaam-Alaikum"