Baskadia

On a humid afternoon in Saddar, Karachi, I came across an elderly man whose warm smile seemed to defy the weariness of age. His name was Karimdad, an 80-something-year-old hailing from Mansehra, who still works each day at his modest fruit juice stall. Intrigued by his story, I sat down with him, hoping to understand the secrets behind his contentment and enduring spirit. Our conversation unfolded like this:

Tashfeen Rizwan: “Karimdad, why are you still working at this age? Don’t your children support you?”

Karimdad (pausing, a smile spreading across his face): “Ah, beta, I have three sons. All of them are well-settled, holding good positions in government. They keep saying, ‘Baba, you’ve done enough; rest at home now.’ But what they don’t understand is that I’ve spent 62 years working hard. Now, I don’t want to rest. If I stop, I feel I’ll become ill and meet my end sooner. My work keeps me alive.”

His words carried a deep sense of purpose—something not everyone manages to hold onto at his age. I could see that he wasn’t clinging to work out of necessity; it was his way of staying connected to life.

Tashfeen Rizwan: “What is your secret to such good health? You seem so full of energy.”

Karimdad (leaning in as if sharing a cherished recipe): “I eat in moderation, beta. Just two meals a day. My morning meal is two rotis made with pure wheat and some desi ghee. No matter what, no lunch, even if it’s just a glass of juice or some fruit. And dinner—I never miss it. I make it a little heavier, so I sleep well.”

He spoke with a simplicity that belied the wisdom behind his routine. His approach to food was balanced, yet carried the discipline of a lifetime.

Tashfeen Rizwan: “Tell me, do you have any regrets about your life?”

Karimdad (his eyes glinting with the light of gratitude): “No, not a single one. I am truly thankful to God for everything. I’m happy with what life has given me.”

It was a rare thing to hear—no regrets, no complaints, just gratitude. He seemed to have made peace with every turn his life had taken, a peace that many of us strive for and yet often struggle to find.

As we continued to chat, I realized that Karimdad’s story wasn’t just about a man who chose to work in his 80s. It was about a spirit unbroken by time. He didn’t labor away at his fruit juice stall for the money; he did it because he could not imagine a life without purpose, without the simple joy of doing something meaningful every day. In his words, I found a reflection of a life that embraced every moment, and every struggle, with open arms.

Despite not having great wealth, Karimdad had achieved something far more valuable. His sons were educated and successful, his needs were simple, and he lived each day with a sense of fulfillment that money couldn’t buy. He had built a life of quiet dignity, and even now, he found joy in serving others a cool glass of juice under the Karachi sun.

Tashfeen Rizwan: “Karimdad, people with more wealth, power, and status often seem less happy than you. What advice would you give them?”

Karimdad (smiling thoughtfully): “Beta, there are two ways to live life—either accept and cherish what you have or go after what you think you deserve. But no matter which path you choose, you must find peace within yourself. Without peace, no amount of money or status will make you happy.”

As we wrapped up our conversation, I left with a sense of clarity. Karimdad had shown me that true wealth lies not in material riches but in the strength of character, in the ability to find joy in the simplest of things.

His story was a reminder that sometimes, the key to happiness is not in adding more but in appreciating what is already there.

Real-life interview with Karimdad, Saddar, Karachi.

Interviewed

by Tashfeen Rizwan