My colleague the artistic Akhtar was never given institutional recognition

 inam ul rehman 

Like all great artists, and concerned citizen of his community, Akhtar Rasool was a lonely person. He had several friends, was a star of his community, but he held many views which were contrarian. He groomed artists, gave them suggestions, and didn’t shy in saying that Kashmiri artists do not have that perseverance, grit, and imagination to grab the attention of clients.    

Akhtar Boss, as I fondly used to call him, belonged to a minority community which is also marginalised in Kashmir. I used to see his artistic work in the Greater Kashmir pullout magazine. It was Urdu weekly Kashmir Uzma, where he changed the view of newspaper editors and layout designers. He designed Kashmir Uzma in his own novel way. His frontpage illustrations combined with Riyaz Masroor’s editing skills made this weekly a household name.  

In 2007, I joined the daily Etalaat, an English newspaper. Here I came to know Akhtar boss’s work. He was the overall head of this newspaper. At that time newspapers in Kashmir would come out with banal layout design. He made sure that the Etalaat was a game changer. And sure it was when it came to layout design, fonts, its colours, and placement of pictures, and news, Etalaat was above everyone. It forced many newspapers to concentrate on its layout. The closure of the Etalaat always remained a regret for him. Whenever we had a discussion, he would lament the closure of the Etalaat, and partly blamed his community for not embracing it. He believed that the Etalaat would have uplifted his community, and given a say in Kashmir affairs if it had survived.  

 After the closure of the daily Etalaat his proteges were taken up by many newspapers, and it resulted in improved layout designs and fonts. Sadly, in this part of the world, no one will give credit to Akhtar boss for improving the layout design of most newspapers and websites. And this is not limited to newspapers even within the University of Kashmir, and the Educational Multimedia Research Centre, Srinagar, where he was working, he was not given the due credit. He designed almost everything in the University besides the routine work at his centre, yet he was not given any institutional recognition.  

At times his credit was omitted from award winning films, but no action was taken. He wanted to do work on an Urdu calligraphy project, after initially getting the nod, he was not allowed to do so. It rankled him. It resulted in him skipping office picnics. But on September 18th of this year, he agreed to come to a picnic cum farewell of our colleague, it was not an official picnic, but what we call in Kashmir, baradari trip. 

His last selfie with office baradari.

He introduced EMMRC, Srinagar to Apple technology. He had a great eye on the emerging technologies in the world. He always kept himself abreast with the latest developments in technology, but sadly his inputs both in production and technical were not valued. To show his anguish with the official system he was making a face illustration which he had titled Lava. He was also hurt from the behaviour of his community friends working in the University.

 Apart from being an artist par excellence, he was a resourceful person. As a member of the minority community in Kashmir, I had many opinionated discussions with Akhtar boss. He always maintained a decorum. It was he who told me that not all Shias in Kashmir are pro-Iran, he told me that Ayatollah Sistani had a greater following than any Iranian Ayatollah, he was resentful about waving the flag of Hezbollah in Kashmir, was critical of Iran not doing anything for the Shias of Kashmir without becoming their proxies, particularly on educational front. He would brief me about minority politics, fears, complexes that minorities have, and importance of symbolism in Shia sect, et al.  

He was a foodie, believed in quality life, and when he would dirge for the martyrs of Karbala his poignant voice would bring tears to the eyes.  A couple of years ago he was operated on for a throat problem. It recurred this year. He consulted his doctor and was planning to get under the knife again, but before destiny we are helpless. 

He leaves behind a three-year-old son and eight months pregnant wife. The University would absorb his wife and secure the future of his children, but we will never get back our Akhtar boss. His parents, wife and children will continue to miss him, and so will we, perhaps.