His name was Kaka Rabbani. He was my Maternal Grandfather’s brother, and one of the very close friends of the former King of Afghanistan, Mohammad Zahir Shah. They shared a deep bond, and during the King’s reign, he was often by his side. Kaka Rabbani would visit the royal family frequently. The King’s driver would come to his house to pick him up and take him to the royal residence.
At home, as I had heard since childhood, he had a rather serious nature; family members found it hard to get along with him. That was simply his temperament. He loved books and had a large collection — a true man of reading. He loved poetry and poets alike.
My Mother was one of his favorite nieces, my Father was rafiq with him and so he had grown very attached to our family. Our respect and love towards one another was mutual. From the time I was in the ninth grade until my third year of university — 7 years in a row — he would visit us every other evening for dinner. We would eat together; he would talk with my father while we made jokes with him. Respectful Jokes. He used to call me as “Qandi Jaan e Gul e Ma”. He had a bicycle which he would ride back home around ten at night.
He had only once traveled abroad in his youth and never developed any affection for foreign lands. When King Zahir Shah returned to Afghanistan during Hamid Karzai’s era, Kaka Rabbani longed for years to meet him through mutual friends, but for some reason, it never came to happen.
His rooms were filled with books. He used to feed the cats, and often ate from canned food himself. From the time of Daoud Khan to the Karzai era, he lived alone — a very mysterious man.
He despised ignorant and arrogant people.
He always encouraged me to read. He gifted me three of his own books — treasures I will keep forever.
He showed great respect for children, often writing them individual letters that made each one feel special. His handwriting was exquisite (I still have his letters as keepsake) .
Every day, he would write his memories in a notebook. Only a few members of his family had ever seen his bedroom. He had made his bed from an old wooden door. He lived in great simplicity. In the hardest of times, he stayed in his house alone, lighting a single candle to pass the nights.
Eventually, he fell ill with diabetes. He never avoided unhealthy foods. In the last month of his life — God knows what came to his heart — he went to Pakistan to visit his younger brother. There, he ate as many sweet jalebis as he could, ignoring everyone’s advice to refrain from unhealthy diet. His condition worsened; suffering from pain in his legs, he made it back to Kabul, was hospitalized a week later, fell into a coma, and passed away.
He passed away — two years before the King himself. He never got to see him again.
After his death, his family paid little attention to the books he had left behind. They sold them all cheaply. Nothing of him remained. He vanished completely from this world.
I always pray for the peace of his soul. He had no wife or children. I wrote this memory to say that there are people whose lives and mysteries only God understands.
May God bless his soul.
Kaka Rabbani, rest in peace ! I will love you forever !!
Noorin Khwaja Eshaan 