It is hard to analyse or theorise anything about Zahid Dar, his persona or his work. Things too intimate can only be told as anecdotes. I met him only a few times for I spent most of my early years in Karachi and then later lived in Islamabad but his name would appear in every other literary conversation one would have, from London to Lahore.
He was like the city he had made his home affectionate and elusive at the same time. Perhaps that’s what erudition brings you. Like a higher form of spiritual experience, you become detached from the mundane but, at the same time, you revel in detail. The contradictions are palpable. That was Zahid Dar a voracious reader and avant-garde poet, who passed away two weeks ago at the age of 84.