'He died too young'

Artist Sayed Haider Raza draws a portrait of the artist as a young man

He was young at heart. ninety five is just a number, Maqbool Fida Husain, was a loner, a friend to few, an example to many others, and had much more to offer. He died young." This is what celebrated painter Syed Haider Raza, Husain's contemporary and one of his closest comrades in the art fraternity, says of India's Picasso who passed away in exile in London.


Syed Haider Raza, a contemporary of MF Husain, at his Delhi residence.
The artist, who moved to France in the early '50s recently returned to
India with the aim of starting an arts foundation with Lalit Kala Akademi
chairman Ashok Vajpeyi. pic/Subhash Barolia

It is Saturday evening, a day has passed after Husain's death. Raza, 90, is sitting in his wheelchair, remembering his old friend, and the 1950s when they started out together. A time when Mumbai was Bombay and Indian art was passion, not investment.

Raza, who spent 60 years of his life in France doing art, fondly remembers the time they spent together.

"Husain was a dear friend, although we never spent much time together since artists are serious people and are thoroughly engaged in themselves. But I liked his company," he says, putting on his glasses with wavering hands. "What I shared with Maqbool was our passion for painting. We never spoke much nor did we meet often, but whatever little association we had, it was pleasant. We communicated with each other through our art."

"Back in the '50s, we used to meet either on Saturdays or Sundays. It was a different time then. We used to talk about work over cups and cups of tea. Those days it was difficult to make a living as an artist, with no recognition and little appreciation."

Talking about Husain as an artist, Raza says he was an important painter. "He is there somewhere in people's awareness of art. His best works were on realism and Rajasthani paintings. We both loved ancient art of the 18th and 19th century."

"I think we had a mutual understanding and respect for each other, without being jealous or proud of the other. We used to joke about women and paintings, recite poetry together. He had a terrific sense of humour," says Raza.u00a0

With a faraway look, Raza remembers their last conversation, in November 2010. "We were in London for an art exhibition. I proposed that both of us meet up the next day and talk. We agreed on a meeting at 6 am. I reached and waited for an hour. He never came. And I never called back. That was our last meeting, one that didn't happen, not a very pleasant memory. And now he is gone. Too early."