How did you turn up suddenly that night? Kaifi, will it never be possible for you to return unannounced and for me to lose myself in your arms. I know this will never be, I shall have to accept the truth that you have gone away to a far-off place from where no one returns. Why does this happen? When will this burden on my heart be lifted? For how long will I have to go on living without you?

Kaifi was not just my husband, he was my friend who never tried to impose his views on me. He never pressured me to do anything I did not like. My wishes and my happiness were always dear to him. In fact, he always tried to help me progress in my work, create a name for myself, be independent and to win people’s approval.

In 1947, before we were married and Kaifi was staying at our house in Aurangabad, I had given him a slip of paper on which I had scribbled, ‘With you by my side, life will pass by like the morning breeze caressing flowers.’ I am amazed how quickly these fifty-five years have passed. My heart remains unfulfilled. I wish Kaifi had stayed with me longer.

In 1977, Kaifi was tackling the stairs of his hotel when he sprained his foot and fell, fracturing his hipbone in three places. His friend, who was with him, had him admitted to the Lucknow Medical College. I was in Bombay; his friend called me, and I took the first possible flight from Bombay to Lucknow. Kaifi’s friend Sayyid Muhammad Mehdi was also called from Delhi where he was living at the time. In the hospital I found Kaifi surrounded by doctors. He had tubes coming out of his nose and mouth. His intestines had stopped functioning because of the shock of the fall. I went up to him and whispered in his ear, ‘Kaifi, I am here, there is no need to worry.’

After about fifteen to twenty minutes, Dr Goyal, the orthopaedic consultant, said, ‘Your presence has given him strength, and slowly but surely, he is improving. If his condition had persisted, we would have had to operate on him.’

Mehdi informed me that the doctors were of the opinion that Kaifi should be kept in Lucknow because it was not advisable to move him to Bombay in his condition. I could do little, but agree. Kaifi was moved into a tiny room with an ensuite bathroom, a kitchen and a small courtyard. Dr Goyal set the bone with skilful precision, but Kaifi’s skin was too sensitive to be put in a plaster-cast, and his left leg had to be kept in traction for four months. I stayed with him throughout that time. He could not even turn on his side without assistance, everything had to be done with him lying flat on his back.