The anecdotes presented below have been excerpted from Abdul Khaliq Taj’s essay, “Muhammad Anwar Khan – Aik Zinda Dil Insan,” appearing on pages 149 to 156 of the anthology Gilgit-Baltistan ka Urdu Adab.
Among the memorable personalities of Gilgit, Anwar Sahib stands out as a man of rare humor, quick wit, and subtle social insight — one who could blend laughter with wisdom in every word. His anecdotes have long transcended the boundaries of ordinary conversation and become part of local lore, quoted fondly by those who knew him and retold with delight by those who only heard of him.
A Father and Son — Rustam Meets Sohrab
Anwar Sahib’s eldest son, Imtiaz, once served as the Chairman of the Gilgit Municipality (Baldia Gilgit). On one memorable occasion, a friendly polo match was organized between the Local Government and the Municipality. On the Municipality’s side rode the son — Imtiaz; and on the Local Government’s side — his own father, Anwar Sahib. It seemed as though Rustam and Sohrab were once again facing each other on the field of honor.
When the trumpet signaled the start of the match, Anwar Sahib rose, tightened his waistband, and pointing toward his son exclaimed in mock prayer:
“O God, blacken the face of the enemy!”
The crowd burst into laughter — the entire ground turned into a carnival of joy and amusement. Such was Anwar Sahib’s charm: humor always spontaneous, never malicious.
A Visit to the Mosque
At times, when in the right mood, Anwar Sahib would visit the mosque. On one such day, after the prayer, he stood in the mosque courtyard engaged in light conversation. A robust-looking Sheikh Sahib also arrived. Someone introduced him to Anwar Sahib:
“This is Sheikh Sahib, a graduate of a well-known religious seminary abroad. He now serves the faithful in a nearby village.”
Anwar Sahib looked him over from head to toe, smiled, and said warmly:
“Delighted to meet you, Sheikh Sahib. You are blessed with enviable health — may you deliver fiery sermons and quote Qur’anic verses freely… and explain their meanings just as you please!”
The entire gathering, including the Sheikh himself, burst out laughing. The Sheikh, still smiling, asked, “So you are Anwar of Khomar?” — and nodded in good humor.
The Loudspeaker Incident
On another occasion, Anwar Sahib happened to pass by a cleric loading a Suzuki van with loudspeakers and related equipment. Greeting the cleric courteously, he pointed to the loudspeakers and said with playful gravity:
“Ustad, beware! Perhaps you are preparing these instruments to torment us again!”
The cleric laughed heartily and replied, “Ah, this is Anwar — who could ever take offense at his words!”
The Famous Saying
One of Anwar Sahib’s witty sayings became proverbial in Gilgit:
“When a Shin grows old, he turns toward the goat pen; when a Yashkun grows old, he heads for the mosque.”
This line, teasing yet insightful, reflected his sharp observation of local community behavior and became part of common speech.
The Raja’s Question
Once, Anwar Sahib was visiting Raja Sultan Feroze Sufi, who was personally fitting a horseshoe onto his horse. The Raja, with a smile, asked,
“Anwar Sahib, you have said what Shins and Yashkuns do in old age — but tell me, what does a Raja do when he grows old?”
Anwar Sahib instantly pointed toward the horseshoe and replied,
“When Rajas grow old, they fit horseshoes — what else can they do?”
The sharp reply delighted Raja Sufi, who repeated this anecdote with laughter wherever he went.
“The Hooras Are in Trouble”
Khaliq Taj, one of Anwar Sahib’s close companions, recalls a delightful moment:
“One day, as we were walking together, two hefty-looking clerics were walking ahead of us. I drew Anwar Sahib’s attention toward them. Without missing a beat, he said, ‘Well, the houris (maidens of paradise) are surely in trouble now!’”
The Retirement Banter
Another unforgettable instance took place at the farewell of a senior officer, a colleague of Anwar Sahib, who was retiring — just days before Anwar Sahib’s own retirement. When given the floor to speak, Anwar Sahib comforted his departing colleague with characteristic humor:
“Don’t worry, dear brother! Before your shroud even gets soiled, I’ll be joining you. We’ll have a good time together — two corpses meeting again!”
The audience was left roaring with laughter; even today, participants recall that evening with fond amusement.
The “Pet Snake”
Once, a high-ranking friend of Anwar Sahib visited his home. While waiting at the main gate, he saw a man in white clothes and a prayer cap walk by. Curious, he gestured toward him inquiringly. Smiling, Anwar Sahib reassured him:
“Don’t worry — harmless, nonpoisonous, just a pet snake that lives on water!”
The guest laughed heartily, understanding it was another of Anwar Sahib’s good-natured jests about an overly pious neighbor.
The Sermon and the “Aircraft”
On another occasion, a fiery preacher delivered a passionate and sectarian sermon, raising the emotional temperature of the gathering. Disliking bigotry, Anwar Sahib could not bear such excesses. At the end, he politely remarked:
“Respected preacher! You’ve taken the aircraft too high into the clouds — it’s shaking now, passengers are vomiting, and those booked for tomorrow’s flight have already started returning their tickets! For God’s sake, please bring the plane back to a safe altitude.”
This metaphor left everyone in fits of laughter, but behind the humor lay a serious message — that faith should be free of fanaticism and extremism.
Anwar Sahib always distanced himself from the disease of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. He believed in a broad, inclusive, and tolerant understanding of Islam — a faith of humanity and compassion. Yet, as he once lamented,
“Who listens to the voice of reason in a marketplace of noise?”
The rulers, politicians, clerics, and society at large — he would say — remain much the same: directionless, pretentious, and unrefined, just as they had always been.
Legacy of Laughter and Wisdom
The anecdotes of Anwar Sahib are not merely tales of laughter; they reveal a rare intellect — one that understood human folly and expressed it through the prism of humor. His words often carried a sting of truth, wrapped in mirth, and delivered with grace.
Those who heard him once never forgot him; and those who tell his stories today keep alive the memory of a man who could make truth palatable through laughter.
In the tapestry of Gilgit’s cultural life, Anwar Sahib’s wit remains a shining thread — a reflection of both laughter and wisdom intertwined.
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