A Man of Faith And Great Morals

Endearing Personality

Doctor Saeed Ahmad—an individual of distinctive dignity and defined by a captivating harmony of outward presence and inner depth—possessed, in every stage of his life, a special charm and magnetic appeal for people of all ages. His manly handsomeness, his smiling and composed countenance; and beyond that, his refined attire and self-confidence compelled every eye to turn in his direction.

In this context, what follows is an excerpt from the writings of the late Mansur Ahmad, who served as the General Secretary of the Ahmadiyya Movement for many years:

Dark, heavy clouds were swirling overhead when a young man began looking for a sheltered place—rain could break at any moment. The instant he lifted his eyes, they fell upon the face of an impressive, middle-aged man. There was such charm in that face that the young man could not take his gaze away. He had never before seen a countenance so serene.

Before long, it began to rain, and a wave of anxiety spread among the people who had come to the Annual Convention at the Ahmadiyya Buildings. In fact, many were seated out in the open. At that moment, Maulana Muhammad Ali came onto the stage and, in a deeply captivating voice, announced: “Do not be afraid, for this rain is a sign of mercy from Allah the Exalted.”

Everyone sat down again. When the young man looked up once more, he saw on that face a noble smile—directed at Maulana Muhammad Ali himself. Later, the young man learned that this great person was Doctor Saeed Ahmad, and that the young man was none other than the present writer.

I met him again in 1950, when I returned [to Pakistan] after completing higher studies in America.

— The excerpt above is taken from In Memory of the Late Doctor Saeed Ahmad, which appeared in the magazine Basharat Ahmadiyya, published by the Ahmadiyya Movement chapter in the USA.)

What follows next is an excerpt from Masud Akhtar’s writing, Doctor Saeed Ahmad (Late, Forgiven and Granted Mercy).

When I look back into the past, the splendor and liveliness of the Annual Convention gatherings of my childhood still remain etched upon my mind. In those days, friends and womenfolk from various parts of India would, with special care and preparation, come and lend their presence to the Ahmadiyya Buildings for the Annual Gathering; and alongside them, a sizable party of gentlemen from the Frontier Province would also attend—draped in woolen cloaks.

A kind of aura would surround the late Badshah Sahib. Maulvi Abdul Hadi would come with his sons, and among those arriving from Hazara were Ghulam Rabbani Khan, Doctor Saeed Ahmad, and Qazi Abdul Rasheed, along with a group of elders from Kachhi Hazara.

I remember especially the gathering held for the Anjuman’s Silver Jubilee. It was remarkably vibrant. Around the Raja there would always be a crowd hovering around, eager to hear the accounts of his life; but the elders of Hazara had a manner all their own. When Ghulam Rabbani Khan spoke, he spoke in a loud voice. Qazi (Abdul Rasheed) had his own distinct style. In both of them, the stamp of the legal profession was plainly evident in the way they expressed themselves. But the manner of speech of Doctor Saeed Ahmad was of an entirely different color. Gentleness seemed to exude from every word, and a faint, half-smile rested on his face at all times.

At the age I was then, how could a child be expected to grasp how much philosophy or depth lay within what a speaker was saying? Still, the effect of how something is said—the tone and manner—certainly registers. At that time, if the late Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s manner of speaking was unique, there was another distinctive detail as well, whose impression remains with me even now: whereas most of the elders from the Frontier Province wore cloaks in the natural color of wool, Doctor Saeed Ahmad would be wrapped in a white cloak.

From 1940 to 1949 I lived outside Lahore. When I returned in 1949, I once again had the opportunity to attend the Annual Convention regularly. On one or two occasions, I also had the chance to hear Doctor Saeed Ahmad deliver a speech.

The impressions will remain with me always of the devotion with which I saw Doctor Saeed Ahmad meet Maulana Muhammad Ali on the occasion of the Annual Convention, and in one or two private meetings as well—and of the affection with which Maulana Muhammad Ali would receive Doctor Saeed Ahmad. And so, for many years, I continued to see him only from a distance, and I remained influenced and impressed by his noble virtues and gracious conduct.

— Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1998.

And what follows next is an excerpt from Hamid Rahman’s writing, especially commissioned for this biography:

My earliest memories of Saeed Ahmad Khan go back to my childhood, to the period when we were living in Lahore and would go to the Ahmadiyya Buildings to attend the Annual Convention. Because I was so young, instead of listening to the scholarly speeches at the Convention, I was far more interested in playing with boys my own age in the lanes and byways around the Ahmadiyya Buildings.

Even so, among the friends who would come to the Annual Convention from every part of Pakistan, two personalities left a deep impression on me—and they always remained the focus of my attention. There was a striking resemblance between them: fair complexions, luminous faces, neatly trimmed short beards, and the same kind of slightly off-white, British-style coats.

It seemed to me as though the two were twin brothers, and I could not help wondering how two human beings could resemble each other so closely. One of them was Doctor Saeed Ahmad, and the other was Khan Bahadur Ghulam Rabbani Khan.

—  A biographical note for Hayat-e-Saeed.

In these writings, the “outward” aspect of Doctor Saeed Ahmad that is portrayed was, in reality, a mirror of his inner self and an expression of the soul at peace. Behind it lay that truthfulness and certainty which he held toward his Creator and Sustainer, toward the blessed person of the Seal of the Prophets, Muhammad Mustafa (peace and blessings be upon him), and toward the Imam of the age, Mirza Ghulam Ahmad of Qadian.

It was this same sincerity and conviction that endowed his worship with a distinctive excellence, and granted him a singular stature in the art of human relations. Those who were initially moved by his personal grace, dignity, and imposing presence, when they were blessed with closeness to him, found him in every circumstance adorned with a believer’s nobility and with exalted character.

Doctor Saeed Ahmad was exemplary not only in fulfilling the rights of Allah, but also held a distinctive place in fulfilling the rights of fellow human beings. The tragic events of 1974, and the historic episodes in the history of the Ahmadiyya Movement, stand as witness to his patience and forbearance, steadfastness and perseverance, resolve, courage, and faith-inspired bravery.

Without revisiting those events here, a few other facets of his fine character are mentioned in the following sections.

Humbleness

Nothing—neither the worldly rank and splendor bestowed by Allah the Exalted, nor the honour, status, and government-conferred awards and titles—ever produced in Doctor Saeed Ahmad any arrogance, self-admiration, or pride. Throughout the region he was known by the titles “Khan Sahib ” and “Khan Bahadur,” and then, when Almighty God granted him leadership of the Ahmadiyya Movement, his honorific title “Hazrat Ameer” also came to be on every tongue. Yet there was no change whatsoever in his tolerance and humility.

He would greet everyone—rich and poor, superior and subordinate, relatives and friends—with a warm handshake. In every action of his, one could see the hue of modesty and self-effacement.

What follows next is a brief excerpt from the writings of Professor Asghar Hameed, the Fourth Ameer of the Ahmadiyya Movement:

Whenever one met the late Doctor Saeed Ahmad, he would shake hands with great firmness—and at times he would hold on for quite a while. I often felt the strength of his grip.

— Excerpt from an article titled The Late and Blessed Hazrat Ameer, published in Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1997.

Professor Ejaz Ahmad has eloquently articulated the aspects of humbleness and modesty in the personality of Doctor Saeed Ahmad as follows:

Sometimes a masterpiece of the Divine can be such that even an unlearned person thinks lofty thoughts. The thought occurred: What is the source of high moral character? The morals of Allah the Exalted. And how are they known? Through the Holy Holy Quran. Where is their practical model? In the pure Sunnah.

The Holy Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) once visited the home of a Companion. From inside, the Companion called out, “Who is it?” The reply came, “Muhammad” (without any title). In the middle of the night, the Promised Messiah, Hazrat Mirza Sahib knocked on the door of a friend to ask for prayers. He was asked, “Who is it?” The answer came, “Ghulam Ahmad.”

It was in my youth—indeed, in boyhood. We were playing. There was a knock at the door. We asked, “Who is it?” The reply came: “It’s me—Saeed Ahmad.” And when we saw that it was Doctor Saeed Ahmad, the Ameer of the Ahmadiyya Movement, who was waiting outside, we were left stunned—overwhelmed with shame and respect [at the same time.]

—  A biographical note for Hayat-e-Saeed.

The following excerpt is from Zahid Aziz’s article regarding Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s humility and modesty:

In early 1976, when I requested that it was my wish to take the religious pledge at his hand, he said: “In truth, the person at whose hand people take the religious pledge ought, spiritually, to be of a very lofty rank—which I am not.” At this I said, “But we are certain that you are.” The moment he heard this, he began to tremble out of humility and fear of Allah the Exalted, and he said, “Astaghfirullah.”

—  Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1997.

An Anecdote Exemplifying his Humility

The drains at Dar-us-Saeed—Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s residence in Abbottabad—had become clogged. Because it was summertime, many people were in the house, and all the residents of Dar-us-Saeed were enduring severe discomfort and distress. The arduous, labor-intensive task of cleaning the drains was assigned to a well-known janitor named Azeem, and he had been working continuously for several hours.

When Doctor Saeed Ahmad noticed him on his way back from the clinic, he went and stood nearby—and remained there with him until the cleaning was fully completed. He then came inside the house and took out a clean, fresh set of shalwar kameez from his wardrobe. Next, he asked his wife for a towel and a good, fragrant soap, and said, “The work Azeem has done today was extremely difficult—none of us could have done it.” Then he added, “Azeem truly is great.”

Forgiveness and Mercifulness

A person who is able to restrain his lower self, and who even forgives the wrongs of someone whose actions or words have hurt him—such God-fearing people are counted among the beloved servants of Allah the Exalted. It is such people who are mentioned in verse 134 of Surah Aal-e-Imran in the Holy Holy Quran:

وَ الْكٰظِمِیْنَ الْغَیْظَ وَ الْعَافِیْنَ عَنِ النَّاسِ  وَ اللّٰهُ یُحِبُّ الْمُحْسِنِیْنَ

And those who restrain (their) anger and pardon men. And Allah loves the doers of good (to others. (Holy Quran—3:134)

In Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s daily conduct, this quality manifested itself frequently—indeed, repeatedly. Allah the Exalted had granted him an exceptional strength for suppressing anger. Even in the face of severe hurt and insulting speech, he had the ability to keep his anger in check.

It is mentioned in a noble Hadith (i.e. a recorded report about what the Prophet Muhammad said, did, or approved of—typically preserved with a chain of transmitters and used, alongside the Holy Quran, as a source for understanding Islamic belief, law, and practice) that whoever restrains anger despite having the power to vent it, Allah the Exalted fills his heart with peace and security.

Even from relatives, friends, and members of the Ahmadiyya Movement, one sometimes witnessed disrespect, harshness, and severe speech directed toward him. Yet his forbearance was also at the highest degree. Exercising self-restraint, he would strive to preserve harmony and goodwill in the atmosphere. If human frailty ever left him momentarily weighed down, he would seek forgiveness repeatedly, and—fulfilling every demand of pardon and forbearance—he would treat the faults as null and void: he would neither call the person to account nor ever allow the thought of retaliation to enter his heart. Rather, he would forgive in such a way that he did not even consider it proper to mention the matter again.

There were also occasions in his life when the demands of human nature seemed, for a moment, to rise above the requirements of pardon and forbearance—but with a little effort he succeeded in suppressing those feelings. Indeed, whenever he felt that he had, even unintentionally, caused someone hurt, he would take the initiative in resolving the matter.

An incident from his overseas trip in 1984 is recorded in his diary. Doctor Saeed Ahmad was speaking with a gentleman in an effort to resolve differences within the Ahmadiyya Movement, trying to clarify his viewpoint for the benefit of the Movement. In those days he was somewhat unwell, yet that gentleman—who was also his host—while disagreeing with him, became increasingly agitated, and there was considerable bitterness in his tone.

Recounting the incident, Doctor Saeed Ahmad writes:

I too, because of my illness, lost control over myself, and I uttered a few sentences in anger. I said, “Who does not know how to become angry? I too am a sensitive person; therefore speaking with you people is futile.” Saying this, I got up and came into the room and lay down on the bed.

No sooner had I laid down than it occurred to me that my anger in this manner would not have a good effect. I should have exercised patience. In this way the matter will be spoiled, and my anger—my pressure—will become a cause of stress and further distress for this poor, helpless man. And then it will also adversely affect our program.

Within five minutes, while reciting istighfar and with prayer, I left the bed and went outside. The lady of the house had her head on the table—apparently she was crying, or at least about to cry—and the master of the house was in the kitchen, pacing in front of me or doing some work. The moment they saw me and heard my voice, the joy on both their faces was a sight to behold, and the lady began apologizing. I reassured them, then returned to the room and gave thanks to Allah.

What follows is an excerpt from Qazi Abdul Ahad’s writing titled “Doctor Saeed Ahmad, which appeared in the November–December 1997 issue of Paigham-e-Sulh:

My son passed his matriculation with good marks, but I did not have the means to get him admitted to college. I had never taken an educational stipend from the Anjuman for my children, nor did I feel it proper to ask anyone for assistance. In the course of those days, Doctor Saeed Ahmad said something that deeply hurt me. So, by way of a written petition, I informed him of my distress and added, “Do I not have a God Who will set my affairs right?”

He summoned me, had me sit with him, and began apologizing. Whenever that scene comes to mind, tears flow from my eyes unbidden: such a great man apologizing to someone like me. Afterwards, he recited the blessed Kalima and said, “God is my witness, I do not remember it. I am an old man; I become weary and exhausted. Perhaps such a remark slipped from my tongue unintentionally.”

Incidents like these from his life also reflect his magnanimity of spirit.

Self-discipline And Living Within Modest Needs

Doctor Saeed Ahmad Khan was extremely content and frugal by nature. He never felt that the provision granted by Allah the Exalted was insufficient. He never expanded his needs to such an extent that he would feel the lack of anything. He never risked his quality of self-sufficiency by comparing his possessions with those of others, or by wishing to outdo them. Nor did he ever ruin his peace and serenity for the sake of accumulating worldly wealth.

Whatever Allah gave, he spent generously in the way of God. And he always remained faithful to a piece of advice from his father, expressed in the form of this Persian couplet:

؎ کارِ دنیا کسے تمام نہ کرد
؎ ہرچہ گیرید مختصر گیرید

The affairs of the world have never been brought to completion by anyone; 

So whatever task you take up, take it up in a limited measure—that it may be completed.

Underlying this is the truth that whatever work or livelihood one undertakes for one’s sustenance should not be allowed to grow so vast and sprawling that one’s entire life is consumed by it—and the true purpose of life slips out of sight. Otherwise, empty of the remembrance and fear of God, the goods of this world alone come to be regarded as life’s purpose.

Doctor Saeed Ahmad never sought to cultivate friendships for the sake of worldly advantages or privileges. Such was his spirit of self-sufficiency that, after the events of 1974, he lived on extremely limited means. When he no longer had access to the fine wheat from his own fields, he accepted it with patience and contentment, and even found ease in eating flour from the government ration depot.

Yet he did not like to disclose his needs to anyone or become a burden upon others. His sights were set far higher than this world of color and fragrance, and the ordinary necessities of daily life seemed to him insignificant. For the sake of obtaining such needs, he was not willing—under any circumstances—to relinquish his contentment and independence.

Upholding Family Bonds

At the beginning of life, a person’s dealings are confined mainly to those closest to him—parents, siblings, and near relatives—through whom bonds of love are formed. It is from a heart acquainted with safeguarding the rights of one’s kin and with the spirit of silah-rahmi (maintaining family ties) that the springs of compassion and affection flow—springs that can nourish the whole human family.

Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s father (Maulvi Muhammad Yahya) was imparting precisely such a lesson in silah-rahmi to his son when he offered him a comparison between a crow and a dog. Maulvi Muhammad Yahya said to his son: if a crow sees even a small piece of bread lying somewhere, it raises a loud cawing and gathers its entire community. By contrast, if a dog finds even a bone, it goes off to a distance, sits hidden away, gnaws on it, and later buries it in the earth in case it may be useful again. The crow practices silah-rahmi—that is, it shares and eats together with its community—and because of this “keeping of ties,” it lives for many years. But the dog “cuts ties,” and does not live beyond nine or ten years. Silah-rahmi is a noble trait, and Allah the Exalted grants blessing in one’s lifespan through it.

Doctor Saeed Ahmad took his father’s counsel to heart, and through his compassionate and loving conduct, both near and far—relatives and non-relatives alike—continued to benefit.

Whenever Doctor Saeed Ahmad went to Debgaran, he would first present himself to pay his respects to his honoured father. Then he would go to the part of the house where his paternal aunt resided, and only after that would he turn to his own quarters. In the same way, he would visit his maternal relatives, and to recite Fātiḥah at the graves he would go not only to his ancestral graveyard, but also to the other cemetery where his maternal grandparents and other relatives on his mother’s side are buried.

From his diary—which records certain events from 1944–1945 and mentions the passing of his father—one entry states:

My attention was drawn to the fact that God’s mercy descends upon one who is beneficent and who does good to God’s creation. So I resolved that:

1. During my stay in Madras, I must do something of this kind as well.
2. I should treat patients with even greater kindness, love, and forbearance than before, and render them genuine service.
3. I should show greater humility and compassion toward subordinates and the needy.
4. I should be more considerate and gracious toward relatives than I have been before.
5. By Allah’s help (and success lies with Him).

Another entry in this diary (from the days immediately after his father’s death) reads:

On 10 February, I asked Mubarak [his sister’s son] about his program, and he replied, “Whatever you command.” I was pleased by this response and resolved that, to the best of my ability, I would show the utmost kindness to this beloved one of my honoured father. This, too, will now be among my responsibilities that have fallen upon me after the passing of my late father. I approved of his plan to work in Mansehra, and after offering some counsel, he felt reassured. May God grant me the ability (to fulfill this), and may He make him highly successful and fulfilled.

From the writings of Abdul Aziz Mubarak:

Doctor Saeed Ahmad treated his relatives with tenderness and love. In my life, I have not seen anyone more affectionate and compassionate than he. In the days when my honoured father (Mubarak Abdullah) was employed in Azad Kashmir and we lived with our mother in Mansehra, Doctor Saeed Ahmad cared for us in every way. Whenever he was traveling from Dadar to Abbottabad—or returning from Abbottabad—he would stop by our home to see us. With affection, he would seat each of us siblings in turn on his lap, gently place his hand on our mother’s head, and ask after everyone’s wellbeing. He would spend some time with us, and when leaving he would give each brother and sister one rupee, and would give our mother a separate amount as well.

Guardianship of the Destitute and Orphans

Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s home was a safe refuge for the helpless, the destitute, and orphans. His tenderness and compassion were not confined to his own family or acquaintances; even strangers, finding safety under his protection, benefited from his extraordinary generosity and patronage. A few incidents from his life are mentioned here:

• Doctor Saeed Ahmad was posted as an Assistant Surgeon at the hospital in Mansehra. A near-dying, utterly friendless woman placed the hand of her young daughter into his hand, and then peacefully surrendered to death. He brought that orphaned, unprotected girl home. Before long she became attached to the household. After receiving a good education and upbringing, she was married to a respectable, educated Ahmadi young man who was gainfully employed. Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s home remained her parental home: she would come and go freely with her children—especially on Eid and other festivals, when she would be sure to visit. Allah the Exalted has blessed her children with every kind of favor.
• In another case, a convict had already been sentenced to death and was spending his final days in the District Jail in Abbottabad. He conveyed to the jail superintendent his wish to meet Doctor Saeed Ahmad. He went to see him. The man requested support for his two young sons. He gladly accepted this responsibility and raised both boys with excellent care.
• A widowed woman—oppressed and wronged at the hands of her own relatives—set out with her two innocent children in search of a safe shelter. She was known to a family in Abbottabad who were aware of Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s compassion for the poor, and knew that there could be no safer refuge for such a helpless woman than his home. They personally brought her to the Dadar Sanatorium and entrusted her to him, asking that he secure some employment for her at the sanatorium. At that time, there was no vacancy on the hospital staff. The woman agreed instead to do household work in his home. The very next day, her two children began going to school alongside Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s own children. For four or five years she served in his household. When a post finally opened for a government job, Doctor Saeed Ahmad—placing her better future above his own household’s comfort—gave her that position, and she moved with her children into government housing. Both of her children received a good education, and in life Allah the Exalted granted them excellent opportunities for progress.

Respect for Elders and Teachers

Doctor Saeed Ahmad attached immense importance to honoring and respecting elders. The senior members of his family and of the Ahmadiyya Community, as well as his teachers, were deeply revered by him. The elders of the Community always treated him with love and kindness, and he, too, would sit before those venerable figures—and address them—in a distinctive manner marked by courtesy and deference. He had an especially deep affection for Maulana Nur-ud-Din and Mirza Yaqub Baig. His esteem and respect for Maulana Nur-ud-Din had endured since his student days. As for Maulana Muhammad Ali and Mirza Yaqub Baig, their company in Lahore gatherings afforded him abundant benefit. Both of these elders regarded him as a son, and their protective, affectionate care remained over him. It was his good fortune that two of his daughters were married to the sons of these elders, and thus the bond of love and respect was transformed into a firm familial relationship.

With his honored teacher, Maulana Sadr-ud-Din—the fourth Ameer of the Ahmadiyya Movement—he maintained a lifelong relationship of respect and reverence. Among the Ahmadiyya Community’s elders known for spiritual insight and revelatory experiences was Sayyed Asadullah Shah. Doctor Saeed Ahmad felt a profound attachment to him and regarded him as a fatherly elder; and Sayyed Asadullah Shah, in turn, considered him like one of his own children. In the summer season, he would stay with Doctor Saeed Ahmad and his family in the capacity of a senior member of the household, and in his absence, Sayyed Asadullah Shah would take special care of the children’s upbringing. In his late-night prayers, Doctor Saeed Ahmad and his family held a place of priority. By the grace of Allah, Sayyed Asadullah Shah received frequent Divine glad tidings concerning him. Doctor Saeed Ahmad would preserve Sayyed Asadullah Shah’s inspirations in writing, and would have him confirm them with his signature in writing. In this way, hundreds of such inspirations were committed to writing and are preserved in two or three volumes.

An indication of Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s feelings for Maulana Nur-ud-Din can be inferred from a letter he wrote to Maulana’s daughter-in-law, Amat al-Latif, wife of Abdul Wahab. What follows is an excerpt from that letter:

In your writing you have greatly honored me by calling me a “sincere admirer” of Nuruddin Azam. In truth, I hold feelings for this great soul far beyond that—feelings which, if I could express them, would become a spirit-uplifting tale. May Allah the Exalted raise his ranks, and may He grant us, in both worlds, a share of his spiritual blessings and bounties.

(Note: Amat al-Latif Tahira Umar gave me this letter a few months before her death. )

— Note by the biographer, Safia Saeed

Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s three revered teachers lived in the Kihal area of Abbottabad, and their residences were adjacent. In this way, he could be honored with meeting all three of his teachers at the same time—something that brought him great comfort. The first of these was Sheikh Muhammad Ibrahim, who had been the headmaster of his school during his student days in Mansehra. The other two were Professor Minhajuddin and Professor Husamuddin, known as “Baba Ji,” teachers at Peshawar Islamia College. He also maintained friendly relations with the children of these esteemed figures. He held even his own children’s friends in high regard and maintained excellent relations with them.

Regard for Friends

Doctor Saeed Ahmad was beloved and widely admired within his circle of friends. His companions took pride in his friendship, and his own hospitality toward friends was of a high order, grounded in selfless affection and sincerity.

Do not count as a friend the one who, in days of ease,
boasts of friendship and brotherhood.
I call him a friend who takes a friend by the hand
in times of distress and helplessness.
— Saadi of Shiraz

This, indeed, was the standard by which he measured friendship, as expressed in the verses of rhyme above by Shaikh Saadi of Shiraz. Doctor Saeed Ahmad stood with his friends in both sorrow and joy. In every hardship and trying time, he remained by their side, and when need arose, he helped them to the fullest extent of his ability. Yet, for himself, he never attached expectations to anyone. He welcomed the cheerful exchange of gifts, but giving or accepting presents for show, or to secure special favors, was a burden to him. He would say, “The true accounting of friends is kept in the heart. The giving and taking of gifts as mere custom or display can wound the sentiments of friendship.”

Even after his companions had passed from this world, he would continue to maintain ties with their families—looking after them, checking on their welfare, and offering appropriate support and guardianship.

Whenever he visited a place where one of his friends, or their family members, resided, he would go to their homes to meet them. For the Annual Convention, he would make special preparations, bringing regional gifts such as honey, corn flour, walnuts, and other local provisions, and would present them as tokens of affection to his fellow members of the community, relatives, and close associates.

Some Reflections

Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s affection and hospitality extended even to his children’s friends. He would greet each child’s friend warmly and take care to treat them with special kindness and consideration.

One summer, Mian Rashid Ahmad—in upholding the tradition of his father—sent mangoes from Multan to Doctor Saeed Ahmad as a gift. After keeping what was needed at home, he instructed that the remaining mangoes be sent to relatives according to their share, and he said in particular: “Be sure to send a portion to Shaheen [my friend]. She, too, is like a daughter of our household.”

— Note by the biographer, Safia Saeed

An Example Of How Much He Valued His Friends

The extent to which he valued and appreciated his friends is evident from a letter he wrote to Begum Abdul Wahab Umar. He wrote:

In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful
4 November, 1993

Dear Begum Abdul Wahab,
Peace be upon you, and the mercy of Allah, and His blessings.

When you and your daughter came, I did not recognize you properly by the name “Umm Tahir,” and I was unable to do justice to the privilege of meeting you. I am deeply sorry. God willing, when I have the opportunity to meet you again, I will make amends—and the affectionate, sincere memory of the dear Mian Abdul Wahab will also be refreshed.

In any case, I am grateful for your visit and your kindness.

With peace,
Saeed Ahmad — Dar-us-Salam.

Background to the abovementioned: Begum Wahab had come to offer condolences on the passing of the mother of Muhammad Saeed. Only a servant was at home, to whom she introduced herself as “Umm Tahir.” Since he was not familiar with this identification, he later apologized in this manner.

Note: Mrs. Abdul Wahab gave me this letter as a keepsake some time before her death. 

— Note by the biographer, Safia Saeed

Affection and Love for Children

Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s heart was a deep spring of love, one from which everyone drew comfort and nourishment. He regarded children as delicate buds and flowers—ones he always wished to see verdant, thriving, and blossoming. His calm smile and love-filled heart naturally drew children toward him. Even unfamiliar children would run to him without hesitation, take his hand, and want to climb onto his lap.

For part of the year 1951, Doctor Saeed Ahmad stayed in Sweden. A local physician there invited him to his home. The doctor’s little daughter, upon seeing him, instinctively came toward him and—despite her mother’s attempt to intervene—climbed into his lap. She studied his face intently; then, touching his beard with her hand, she burst into delighted laughter and said, “Rosa”—meaning, “This is a flower.”

All the children in his family were fond of him and felt at ease with him, and each child, in his or her own mind, thought of “Doctor Saeed Ahmad” as belonging to them alone, respectively. His son Zahid Saeed and Ahmad Sadiq’s son Tariq Ahmad, who was around the same age, were playing in the courtyard. As they played, they got into an argument. Zahid Saeed innocently insisted that Doctor Saeed Ahmad was his, while Tariq Ahmad—equally innocently enough—kept saying, “Doctor Saeed Ahmad is mine; Allah Mian has given him to me.” Neither was willing to relinquish this “right.” Finally, Khurshid Bibi (wife of Professor Khalil-ur-Rahman) stepped in and settled the dispute by saying that Doctor Saeed Ahmad belonged to both of them—and, indeed, to all of them.

He would not scold children for their innocent mischief, their noise and commotion, or even for rummaging through and disturbing his belongings. He would also advise others that constant reprimanding does not leave good impressions on a child’s mind. Once, a longtime friend came to visit him and, during their conversation, expressed strong irritation with his grandsons and granddaughters, complaining about their noise, which disrupted his rest. After the guest had left, Doctor Saeed Ahmad mentioned the matter at home and remarked that, thanks be to Allah the Exalted, he never becomes resentful in that way over the innocent mischief of children.

Spirit of Sympathy and Caring

Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s heart was filled with compassion and graciousness. Sharing in others’ joys and sorrows brought him peace and comfort; these noble sentiments were an essential part of his character. While healing the sick was naturally part of his medical profession, he would become a source of support for anyone in distress. He considered it his duty to visit the ill and to go and offer condolences to the bereaved families of those who had passed away. If it was not possible to do so in person, he would still inquire after them by letter or by phone. After he moved to Lahore and could only travel to Debgaran after long intervals, he would make sure, during those visits, to go and convey condolences to the families of those who had died in the meantime.

At times, he would even undertake long journeys simply to visit the sick or to offer condolences. His friend, Mian Ataullah, had also been under his care. A few hours before his death, Mian Ataullah’s wife called him in Abbottabad and, in a state of deep anxiety, said, “Mian Ataullah is very ill. He is remembering you.” He immediately made his travel preparations and set off for Multan. But while he was still on the journey, Mian Ataullah’s soul departed its earthly cage. He stayed there for a day or two with the family, and fulfilled the rights of friendship and kindness.

When Begum Muhammad Ali and Begum Ghulam Rabbani Khan passed away, Doctor Saeed Ahmad was abroad. Upon returning, he went to wherever their bereaved relatives were residing and shared in their grief.

Whenever a death occurred in a household, he would invariably send a simple meal for one or two sittings. In this way, the grieving family would not have to bear the burden of hosting guests and managing household chores—and this was fully in accordance with the Prophetic Sunnah. However, in his view, arranging elaborate formal meals was not especially desirable.

A Simple Life

There was no trace of affectation or ostentation in his life or in the way he lived. Whether in the official bungalow at Dadar Sanatorium, in Abbottabad at Dar-us-Saeed, or in Lahore at Dar-us-Salam, one never saw any arrangements or preparations of a showy, formal kind. His residence contained all the necessities of life, but he did not approve of unnecessary, display-oriented decoration and ceremonial fuss. Because of his simple, unpretentious lifestyle and the pleasant atmosphere of his home, there was always room—collectively, in the rooms, verandas, and courtyard—for dozens of people to sleep or sit.

In the summer months especially, when his sons and daughters, their children, and other guests were present, arrangements for everyone’s food, drink, and lodging were made with ease. Had there been even a small element of formality or pretension in his mode of living, the home could never have had the same liveliness and bustle that it did. He regarded the arrival of guests in the home as a source of blessing and mercy.

An article by Maulvi Abdullah (California, USA), titled Qasr-e-Ameer, may Allah the Exalted Strengthen him”, was published in the 5 October 1983 issue of Paigham-e-Sulh. Maulvi Abdullah likely chose this title by way of comparison with Rabwah’s Qasr-e-Khilafat (Palace of the Caliphate). What follows is an excerpt from that article:

As soon as I got off the bus in Rabwah, I met an elderly man with a white beard. After exchanging greetings and a brief introduction, this elder invited me to see the Qasr-e-Khilafat. I immediately replied, “Sir, I have come from America, where magnificent buildings can be seen everywhere. I have come here to meet the elders of your Community—not to see buildings.” After that, the elder took me to the Secretary’s office and introduced me to him.

I did not have the opportunity to see the interior of the Qasr-e-Khilafat, but from a distance this building does appear prominent compared to other houses. However, I did have the opportunity to stay in the house that has been attributed with the name Qasr-e-Ameer. This house consists of five or six rooms, including a kitchen and dining room, and a house of the same size—adjacent to it—is for the settlement’s superintendent. In other words, by not creating any distinction in housing between the Ameer of the Community and the superintendent, a true example of Islamic culture has been presented.

Thanks be to the Gracious Lord that the elders and leaders of our [Ahmadiyya Movement] community—Maulana Nur-ud-Din, Maulana Muhammad Ali, and Maulana Sadr-ud-Din—never expressed any desire that the Anjuman build grand mansions for their residence. They adopted a life of humble austerity and did not allow display or outward grandeur to come near them. The same is the state of the present Ameer, Doctor Saeed Ahmad. Even in this very settlement of Dar-us-Salam, grand houses have been built and are being built, yet he has never asked the Anjuman to build a large house for the Ameer of the Community. Whatever house was available for residence, he considered it a blessing…

Refinement and Elegance

Doctor Saeed Ahmad was a refined man of cultivated taste. His neatness and aesthetic sensibility were particularly evident in his dress and table manners. Whatever he wore seemed to harmonize with his personality. Whether it was a British-style suit or a shalwar kameez, whichever outfit he chose in keeping with the occasion was always clean, crisp, and unwrinkled. At times a turban could be seen on his head, but generally he wore a karakuli cap or a woolen one. His footwear was invariably clean and well polished—most often boots or Peshawari sandals. On the two Eids, he liked to wear a waistcoat or a sherwani over his shalwar kameez.

His standards of dining etiquette were also distinctly his own. There was refinement in how he served food, refinement in how he formed each morsel and brought it to his mouth. Whether he ate with his hand or used a knife, fork, and spoon, his hands always appeared spotless. He would take only a small portion onto his plate with care, so that nothing would be left over, and so that no food would be seen smeared about the plate.

He appreciated a table set with clean, carefully chosen utensils and neatly presented food. If someone inadvertently placed a wet dish or piece of fruit on the table, he would feel slightly unsettled and would gently draw attention to it. He enjoyed all kinds of food and never found fault with what was served. For lunch he preferred fruit, and with dinner he preferred something sweet. Among fruits, mangoes were especially dear to him. He also enjoyed the tart fruits of winter with relish. He would prepare fruit in an exceptionally elegant manner—peeling it and slicing it into even pieces. And as for cutting mangoes, he had a method all his own: he would cut them in the middle so that they became two bowl-like halves, with the pit separated; then he would eat the pulp from these “bowls” with a spoon.

His books and reading-and-writing materials—and the items kept in his desk and cupboards—were arranged with a distinct orderliness. And he would tend to this organization with his own hands.

His meticulousness and refined taste generally left a strong impression on people.

Hospitality

Doctor Saeed Ahmad always kept a generous table. Hosting and looking after guests was an indispensable part of his everyday life. Neither he nor his family ever became flustered when guests arrived; rather, his door was always open to them, and everyone who came to his home was welcomed with a warm smile.

In his hospitality one could glimpse the Abrahamic guest-honoring tradition; hospitality of this kind reflects the highest refinement of human character. True hospitality is to place before the guest—without first asking whether they will eat, or what they would like to eat or drink—the best food that can readily be provided and lies within one’s means. In other words, even questioning the guest can, in a sense, be a shortcoming in the manners of hospitality. Nor was it merely a matter of arranging a variety of dishes before a guest; personally serving them and urging the guest, with insistence, to eat was among the hallmarks of his hosting.

Once, Mian Umar Farooq visited the home. That day, the meal included karhi (a yogurt-based curry-soup, often thickened with gram flour and sometimes containing fritters aka pakoras). Mian is a man of means; his own table must be adorned with every sort of delicacy. Yet the taste he experienced in that karhi while eating with Doctor Saeed Ahmad is something he still remembers to this day.

He regarded a guest’s arrival as a cause of blessing and mercy. He believed that Allah the Exalted Himself provides the sustenance apportioned for a guest. What follows is an entry from Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s diary:

75/3 [March, 1975]. Master Abdullah has come from America after 43 years, accompanied by his daughter, Farida. Some people received him at the airport; I went as well. After spending two days in the Ahmadiyya Buildings, he came to my place and took up residence in my home. His daughter stayed at the home of Nasreen Gul. I counted it as Allah’s favor that he chose me—this humble one—to host a traveling brother in a city like Lahore, where dozens of his friends are present, yet He selected me in particular. How can I ever thank Allah for such kindness? That same day, or the next, a former patient (Saleem Khan) came from Haripur and brought a tin of pure ghee; and two other patients from far-off places left forty rupees each. Allah the Exalted sent, along with the guest, the means to cover his expenses. In any case, I do not run a regular clinic.

Generally, there would always be something in the house for entertaining guests—cold drinks, fruit, and the essentials for tea. And if word came in advance that a guest was arriving, further arrangements would also be made. However, in caring for guests he did not like unnecessary delay. In a cupboard in his room he would keep a few edible items—such as dried fruit, biscuits, toffees, and chocolate—and he himself would offer them to visitors.

Impressions of his hospitality appear in many writings. Here are a few excerpts:

1. My younger sister contracted tuberculosis, and we had to take her to the Dadar Sanatorium for treatment. For nursing, my mother and my sister had to go with her. Doctor Saeed Ahmad insisted that they stay with him in his home. This was a time when I had completed my education and could observe people’s character well. During my sister’s illness I began teaching at a school in Abbottabad, but I kept making trips to Dadar. His home was a haven for sick members of the Ahmadiyya Movement. From morning till night, there was a constant stream of guests. Neither his servants grew weary, nor did a crease appear on the foreheads of the household.
   — Excerpt from “A Few Memories, A Few Words,” by Razia Madad Ali, Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1997.
2. In Lahore, the virtue of his that I had the good fortune to witness—and to benefit from—was his readiness to meet anyone, his hospitality, and his informal manner. Whoever wished could meet him at any time and, without ceremony, go and sit with him to talk. This continued even during the last three years of his illness, except when he felt a greater need for rest. For a guest’s refreshment he would have food and drink brought, and with great affection he would set it before us. At times he would personally peel fruit and place it onto our plates.
   — Excerpt from “Our Compassionate Guide and a Shining Example,” by Zahid Aziz, Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1997.
3. In Abbottabad, too, I witnessed remarkable scenes. People would come from far-flung places for prayer. He would also treat them to food and tea.
   — Excerpt from “Mention of a Striver and Lover of the Holy Quran,” by Raja Muhammad Bedar, Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1997.
4. [In Abbottabad,] Eid Day was a source of immense joy for us. We would go to the mosque for the Eid prayer, which adjoined his home. Along with enjoying Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s uplifting sermon, we would also savor the special sweets prepared at his house for the Eid gathering.
— Biographical note by Hamid Rahman.
5. I still remember those days when I would eat in Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s room in his company. He himself would place a piece of chicken on my plate and say, “This is especially from me—for you.” Even if I was already full, I would never refuse to eat it.
   — Biographical note by Samina Malik.
6. Once my mother and I went to Dar-us-Salam to meet Doctor Saeed Ahmad at his home. He called his daughter, Safia Baji, and then, with great love, said: “These are the children of our very dear and sincere people. Honor them, serve them, and show them due hospitality.” I will never forget that manner of Doctor Saeed Ahmad. In any case, people who truly honor others are rare these days.
   — Biographical note by Aftab Ahmad Kachhi.

Excellent Treatment of Employees

At times, in order to help with the household work, several employees would be present in the home simultaneously. Doctor Saeed Ahmad treated each of them with kindness, and to them as well—just as to the rest of the family—he was, simply, Janji. Many employees spent their lives in his household. Neither were they willing to leave him, nor would he ever dismiss anyone without reason. He would overlook minor mistakes and also pay attention to their moral upbringing. He would include them in prayer with him, and if a servant had not even learned to read the Holy Quran in the basic recitation manner, he would encourage them to learn. Several female attendants lived in his home along with their young children. He arranged educational facilities for those children as well. And when the children grew up and found employment according to their abilities, they took their mothers with them; he would bid them farewell with happiness. When young girls reached puberty, he would arrange their marriages himself, or—according to the wishes of their guardians—send them off in the best possible way.

He addressed employees respectfully and instructed his children to do the same. If a servant happened to have a meaningless name, or if some undesirable nickname was being used to call them, he disliked it and would give the person a good, meaningful name, so that they would not feel any sense of inferiority.

What follows is an excerpt from the writings of Razia Madad Ali:
Simple dress and simple food—a portrait of true equality. His children would address male servants, according to age, as Lala or Kaka, and would call a female worker Masi. His children and the children of the staff studied in the same uniform at Dadar’s primary school.
— Excerpt from “A FewMemories, A Few Words,” by Razia Madad Ali, Paigham-e-Sulh, November–December 1997.

When Muhammad Zaman Lala entered the service of Doctor Saeed Ahmad, he was still young. He married and, along with his wife and children, remained under Doctor Saeed Ahmad’s protection—so much so that in 1974, when Dar-us-Saeed was surrounded by rioters, he remained continuously involved in defensive measures. Likewise, the household worker Sarwar Jan Masi stood by the family with loyal devotion. Indeed, she also took part in the defensive effort and suffered minor injuries from gun pellets. At the time of migration, these two self-sacrificing servants came with him to Lahore.

To separate and set down in writing the noble qualities of Doctor Saeed Ahmad is not so easy, because in each one of his virtues one can see a glimmer of another. Yet the final, complete embodiment of character—adorned with every human quality—is, in the end, none other than Saeed Ahmad himself: a humble human being.