by Mohammad Aaqib Khan
His humility was such that, despite my reverence for him, he insisted on treating me as an equal. This was the kind of environment he nurtured, one grounded in respect and mutual regard.
On the morning of 25 June 2025, while I was at my clinic attending to my routine work, I received a phone call from my friend Ajaz Ahmad Khan. He informed me that Parvaiz Sir had passed away. Shocked, I immediately uttered, Inna Lillahi Wa Inna Ilayhi Raji’un, ended the call, and rushed to his home to join the funeral prayers.
There are individuals whose contributions to society are so profound that even after their passing, they continue to live on in the hearts and memories of people. Parvaiz Ahmad Khan, a private teacher at the Islamic Educational Institute in Kuzwera, Khanpora, was one such individual. His life, marked by sincerity, simplicity, and quiet dedication, left a lasting impression on his students and his community.
Parvaiz Sir was an exceptionally intelligent and capable teacher with nearly two decades of experience. He taught all major subjects, Mathematics, Science, Social Science, and English, at a school that offered education up to the eighth standard. His remarkable memory was widely known. He had internalised the textbooks, down to the page numbers.
Despite the school’s modest salary, he never allowed it to affect his dedication. He continued his work with grace and integrity. For him, teaching was not just a profession but a mission and a source of deep personal fulfilment.
Along with his academic strengths, he had a sound knowledge of Islam and was a devoted follower of the Prophet Muhammad (ﷺ). He regularly participated in Milad-un-Nabi gatherings with sincerity and conviction. His presence in these programmes reflected a faith that was firm and unpretentious.
Even as he battled cancer, he continued to support such events financially. Despite the rising costs of treatment, his love for the Prophet (ﷺ) remained unshaken. May Allah bless him with the intercession of the Prophet (ﷺ). He also contributed to social work through his involvement with the Baitul Maal, where he worked with honesty and purpose, setting a standard for others.
He was also deeply attached to the Awliya (saints), especially Sheikh Noor-ud-Noorani, whose teachings and remembrance inspired him.
The true legacy of Parvaiz Sir is found in his students. Many went on to become doctors, engineers, teachers, paramedics, lawyers, police inspectors, and other professionals, not only across the region but even in his village. His efforts laid the foundation for many of these lives. His students remember him not just for his teaching but also for his warmth, kindness, and unwavering commitment to their growth.
When I enrolled at the Islamic Educational Institute in Kuzwera, I was registered as Aaqib Ibni Fayaz. It was Parvaiz Sir who changed my name to Mohammad Aaqib Khan. This small gesture meant more than a correction. It gave me an identity I now carry with pride. That moment has remained with me ever since. His thoughtful act made him an enduring part of my story, and through such moments, he continues to live on in the hearts of his students.
Though I once sat in his classroom, I later had the privilege of working alongside him at the same school, where he served as principal. To share a workspace with the man who had once taught me was not only professionally significant, it was personally meaningful. Life had come full circle, from being taught by him to teaching under his leadership.
As a colleague, I saw the same dedication I had admired as a student. His calm decisions, respectful demeanour, and thoughtful leadership left a lasting impression. Working with him deepened my respect and admiration. These memories remain close to me, a source of personal and professional inspiration.
When I joined the school as a teacher, he welcomed me with his familiar smile and said, “I will not interview you because I know you.” Those words held more than affection. They carried trust and acceptance. He saw me no longer as a student but as a fellow teacher. Still, to me, he remained my teacher and guide. Whenever he entered my classroom, I would stand up from my chair in respect. Each time, he gently reminded me, “You are now a teacher, not a student.”
His humility was such that, despite my reverence for him, he insisted on treating me as an equal. This was the kind of environment he nurtured, one grounded in respect and mutual regard.
He also had a unique way of addressing me. He never called me simply “Aaqib.” He always used my full name, “Mohammad Aaqib”, and did so with affection and respect. That voice still echoes in my memory. Some voices do not fade. They remain etched in our consciousness.
We pray that Allah grants Parvaiz Ahmad Khan Sahib the highest place in Jannatul Firdous, blesses him with the company of the Awliya, and fills his eternal resting place with light and peace. May his grave be a garden among the gardens of Paradise. May his soul continue to receive the rewards of the knowledge he imparted, the students he shaped, and the love he spread.
Indeed, people like him never truly leave.
(The author is pursuing a PhD in Islamic Studies. Ideas are personal.)
