How to Lose A Father and Gain A Father in 24 hours

My spiritual father died on Tuesday, February 4, 2025.

1

I was not ready for this.

My spiritual father died on Tuesday, February 4, 2025.

His Highness the Aga Khan died on Tuesday, February 4, 2025.

Mawlana Shah Karim, the Imam of my time, died on Tuesday, February 4, 2025.

​

[His Highness the Aga Khan, born Prince Karim al-Husseini, was the 49th hereditary Imam (spiritual leader) of the Shia Imami Ismaili Muslims, a community of approximately 15 million people worldwide. In Ismaili tradition, the Imam is believed to be divinely appointed and is both spiritual guide and interpreter of Islamic faith for his time.]

​

The message showed up on my phone. A few paragraphs.

No, no, what?

I read it 3 times and just stared at it with my mouth open.

Then I started crying.

No, no, what is happening.

I went to the homepage of the official website of the Ismaili community.

There it was. The same verbiage. A bright picture of the Imam with dates ending in 2025.

More tears came.

My chest got heavy. My arms and legs got heavy. I sat in my chair and sobbed.


2

I don’t know if you know this, but I have a long history with the Imam.

I have loved him. I have adored him. I have wrestled with him. I have struggled with him. I even tried to ignore him.

Still, he came looking for me.

Again and again.

I’ve heard his voice in my head, as if he was in the room with me.

That’s what brought me back.

He called me.

I answered.

Again and again.

He is the father I never had.

He is the friend I never had.

He is the guide I never had.

He is the light I never had.

​

[Unlike other Muslim traditions where an imam is simply a prayer leader, the Ismaili Imam holds a unique position of spiritual authority, providing guidance for both spiritual and worldly matters. This creates a profound spiritual bond between the Imam and his followers, even if they have never met him personally. He is with each one of his followers spiritually, if not physically.]

​
​

I dreamed about working directly with him one day. I went to study in London to get closer to making that happen.

But then life happened and it didn’t work out.

Writing and teaching became my way of serving the Imam. It became my way of fulfilling his aspirations.​

3

I wrote about him in the preface of my book, Remember Who You Are, in 2017:

---

I am thankful to my teacher, His Highness the Aga Khan IV. When I was a young man, I used to read all your speeches in search of hidden treasures. Two passages from two different speeches stood out for me:

“As the demands on his time increase, every Muslim will find it more and more difficult to seek for himself the answer to the fundamental question of how he should live his life for it to be truly Muslim. It is men such as you who will have to bring forth the answers. Answers which will have to be practical and realistic in the world of today and tomorrow.” (1976)

“What the Muslim world needs today, I suggest, is more of those innovative architects that can navigate between the twin dangers of slavishly copying the architecture of the past and of foolishly ignoring its rich legacy. It needs those who can thoroughly internalize the collective wisdom of bygone generations, the eternal Message and ethic with which we live, and then reinforce them in the language of tomorrow.” (1989)

When I read those words, I knew I wanted to be a part of this movement and to make contributions toward this effort. I wanted to dig deep into the wisdom of Islam and bring forth practical answers in the language of tomorrow. This inspired me to continue my lifelong studies into religion, spirituality, mythology, and psychology.

After I finished college, you supported me in studying Islamic Studies and Humanities at the Institute of Ismaili Studies in London. And then you continued to support me as I got my Master’s degree in Religion from the University of Oxford. Even more years would still have to pass before I could thoroughly internalize and integrate everything I had learned.

I am happy to report, dear teacher, that this book, Remember Who You Are, is the first fruit of the seed you planted in me years ago. And there is so much more to come, inshallah.

Thank you for everything you have done for me. Thank you for your leadership, your teachings, your guidance, your patronage, and your loving blessings. You have made a profound difference in my life. May the peace and blessings of God be upon the Prophet Muhammad and his family.

---

This is the role the Imam has played in my life.

He is a luminous fixture in the landscape of my inner world.

4

On Tuesday February 4, 2025, Mawlana Shah Karim passed away. For over 50 years, he’s been that fixture in my life. And then he passes away.

I lost my father.

I lost my friend.

I lost my guide.

I lost my light.

​
A million memories come rushing back to me. The earliest memories of seeing his picture. The earliest memories of seeing him physically in a large encampment in Pakistan where he was giving an audience (didar) to his followers. Then again many years later in America. Listening to his voice. Seeing him on video.

​

When I was a grad student at the Institute of Ismaili Studies in London, he even came once to meet the students. And there he was, standing in our classroom, asking us to use our education to make a difference.

​

A lifetime of memories. Like standing under a waterfall. So much that you can hardly contain it. It overfills the mind. It overfills the heart. Lost under the currents.

What can you do? There is no relief from this. So you just sit with it and try to give up the need to resolve it anytime soon. There is nothing to resolve.

This deep grief is only matched by a deep gratitude.

5

I wish I could have known him personally. In the last years of his life, he was quite ill. We were never told what it was.

Still, I wish I could have made him some soup or a sandwich or told him Knock Knock jokes to make him laugh.

​

Knock, knock.
Who’s there?
Interrupting cow.
Interrupting co—
Moo!

​

More laughter. More tears.

How do you measure a life?

How do you measure the impact of a life?

​

He was a world figure conversing with other world figures, moving every conversation toward a more humanitarian direction. He built schools. He built hospitals. He championed pluralism.

He impacted millions over seven decades.

​

He is a light by which I walked. He sent me to grad school, to London, to Oxford. He impacted my one life in a million ways.

​

He is with his grandfather now, Mawlana Sultan Muhammad Shah.

​

He is with his ancestors now, the long line of Imams that stretches from him all the way back to Mawlana Ali over one thousand four hundred years ago.

6

But the story doesn’t end here.

​

There is a plot twist.

Every Imam, before his death, appoints the next Imam.

In Ismaili Islam, there is always a living Imam in the world to guide his followers and all of humanity.

Before Mawlana Shah Karim died, he appointed one of his sons to be the next Imam.

[The Qur’an states: “He will provide for you a light by which you shall walk.” (57:28)]​

The Light never leaves the world. It passes from one Imam to another so that the world is never left without that Light.

​

[In Ismaili tradition, the institution of Imamat continues through hereditary succession, with each Imam designating his successor from among his male progeny before death. This ensures the community is never without living spiritual guidance. The chain of succession has remained unbroken since the time of Prophet Muhammad's cousin and son-in-law, Ali, the first Imam.]

​

On Wednesday February 5, 2025, the Will of the Imam was unsealed and it stated that his son Shah Rahim will be the next Imam.

It might take me a minute or a month or a year, but I will take all the time I need to mourn the passing of Shah Karim and to celebrate the coming of Shah Rahim.

I go to the official website and there is a bright picture of the new Imam, Shah Rahim, with the words “Mawlana Hazar Imam,” indicating that he is now the Present Imam of our time.

​

I look into his eyes.

And all I can think is:

He is now my spiritual father.

What was in his father is now in him.

​

He came looking for me.

Again and again.

He is not leaving without me.

He is not leaving without us.

​

I see him.

I recognize him: Imam of my time.

And I see behind him his father and his great grandfather and all the Imams, all the way back to Imam Ali.

This is the rope of Imamat.

​

[The Qur'an states: "And hold fast to the rope of Allah, all together, and do not become divided" (3:103). In Ismaili interpretation, this rope represents the unbroken line of living Imams.]

​

I thank Allah for the rope of Imamat.

​

One Imam after another offering humanity a rope to pull themselves higher and higher into the celestial realms through prayer, contemplation, kindness, generosity, and doing good in the world.

​

It’s a beautiful vision, isn’t it?

​

That’s what brings us back.

​

Yesterday I lost a father.

Today I gained a father.

In 24 hours.

​

I was not ready for this.

​
—Rahim