I do not know what kind of a person I would have been if I had not come across Edward Said at the point in my life that I did.

First time in my freshman year, in my Islamic Studies course, where my instructor mentioned him in passing and I ran a quick google search sitting in

class, afraid he was part of the assigned reading that I had not done.

Next in my Soph year. First lecture of my course on Imperialism in India. My history professor asked me, "Who told you India was in decline when the British arrived?" and everything changed.

Then in my junior year, an all-women comparative lit seminar course on Orientalism. Admittedly, we studied more of what Said was talking about, and less of Said himself. But once in a while, there was a giggle or two at the thought of him.

"Said was a literary theorist, the historians are not too fond of him," my English teacher told the class.

"Well, fuck historians," I, a history student, murmured under my breath.

This attitude I carried forth to my subaltern course in Senior year.

Where, aware of what was to come in a history session about Said, I did my reading with the sole intention of defending him in class the next day.

And even though it was a small inconsequential, forgettable moment but when my (favourite) professor a little exasparatedly said, -

"Wait Aimun, I am coming to it," when I opened my mouth to defend Said yet again, I felt a surge of pride for having done my job well.

I think what has me so in awe about Said is the absence of any intimidating pretentious airs about him. Said's text, despite being extremely

complex never put in my hear the fear of having to spend hours decoding what a really, really intelligent man had written in order to show off just how intelligent he was.

In his text, I could detect the grief and pain which had motivated him into writing it.

Thus, even as I studied long complex texts, I felt like I knew why they had been written. It genuinely felt that Said wanted to communicate the grief of being otherized, and having his home torn away to his reader.

And through his writing, assured the reader that those suffering

from this affliction were not alone.

Slowly, over the four years, as I got to understand Said better, I found home in my own skin. He made me the center of my story.

There is great joy in coming across a genius who can hold your attention for a 25 line long sentence. And at the same time, speak with such conviction and emotion for his people who were so unabashedly either demonized or forgotten by the world.

And in doing so, gives you a language and a world where you not your own other.

Of course, the deeper you look into Said, the more endearing a character he becomes.

Like that time he recounted about being sorely disappointed as he watched his heroes fall at a dinner party -

when he realized that Foucault and Simone de Beauvoir were not the anti-zionists he had expected them to be given their bodies of work.

Or that time @AhmadRiazLodhi6 shared with us about Said sitting with Eqbal Ahmad and Faiz Ahmed Faiz in a dingy Beiruti restaurant -

as Faiz read out his poetry. Said mentions how as the night wore on, they stopped translating the poetry for his benefit, but he didn't needed them to. For her understood the grief of exile.

The idea of this world renowned genius recounting a moment with such joy, despite it

being a moment that did not cater to him, was so heartwarming in a sea of anectodes about one learned man after the other being absolutely unbearable in a personal capacity.

This humility that Said possessed was, at the expense of sounding like a fangirl, very attractive to me.

The idea of Said is so comforting.

A genius, a defiant voice in a world that had used the "East" to milk for itself a fortune, in politics and academia. A man seeking to convey the pain of exile and otherization. As humble as he was gifted, reclaiming the world word by word.

Rest in peace, Said.

Thank you for the words, the ethic, and most importantly for creating for me possibilities to love myself in a world so intent on hating me.

Here is Ahmad's GREAT thread recounting Said and Faiz and Eqbal Ahmad in Beirut https://twitter.com/AhmadRiazLodhi6/status/1196475380544217091

(Also I realize that this thread has a lot of grammatical errors, but in Said's spirit, we are decolonizing ourselves.)