Sous-chef. Musician. Teacher. Brother.

Born April 1, 1949, in Karachi, Pakistan; died April 22, 2021, in Ottawa, of stomach cancer; aged 72.

Abdul Zakir didn’t have much when he arrived from Pakistan as a young man in the 1970s. But what he did bring was a gift of music that he shared with countless people over the years. He could bring an audience to tears when he sang ghazal, a form of couplet-based poetry that evokes both love and pain. Singing it well requires mastery of Indian ragas (classical music) and a deep understanding of Urdu poetry. He had both. For decades he was a beloved performer and teacher in Ottawa’s South Asian community.

Abdul was the youngest of nine children born to conservative parents in Karachi. His family didn’t exactly encourage his natural musical abilities. But fate intervened. A neighbourhood street sweeper spent his lunch break playing the stringed bulbul tarang, or Indian banjo. The soulful, melodic sounds intrigued Abdul and he asked the worker to teach him to play. Before long, his fingers were making magic with the banjo and he later taught himself to play the harmonium, a reed organ central to South Asian music. By day, he studied textile design at a college and worked at a textile factory. By night he was expanding and perfecting his musical skills.

In 1975, Abdul’s older sister and her family helped him move to Canada and he arrived in Ottawa eager to start a new life. He trained as a chef and worked in the restaurant industry.

He wasn’t in Ottawa long when his parents summoned him back to Karachi: They had chosen his bride, as was the custom. Yasmeen accompanied him to Canada and their love grew deep and enduring as they built their lives and raised two sons, Osman and Zeshan.

Abdul may have worked as a sous-chef at the Ottawa Marriott Hotel, but it was music that brought him joy and acclaim. He didn’t charge for his many performances. No matter how busy, he rarely turned down a request to perform. He became known as Zakir bhai, brother Zakir. His melodic voice, musical mastery and willingness to teach his craft filled the city with music. A dozen people would regularly cram into a basement studio in his home, eager to learn the intricacies of South Asian music from a master.

His talents were known outside of Ottawa as well. When famous Pakistani singer Tahira Syed needed a last-minute fill-in on her Canadian tour, she asked Abdul. She was so pleased with his skill that she invited him to perform with her in the United States.

Onstage, Abdul exuded immense confidence and charisma. Offstage, he was a gentle, unassuming man who doted on his wife, sons and four grandchildren. Osman inherited his musical talents and taught himself to play the tabla (hand drums) when he was just four years old. The father-son duo often performed together. Both sons lived within walking distance and Abdul and Yasmeen enjoyed taking care of all four grandchildren and teaching them about their heritage.

Abdul didn’t pursue a formal music career. He always remembered the kind teacher in Karachi who gave him the gift of music. He wanted to pay it forward. The joy of sharing his music was payment enough.

Perhaps his greatest gift was his ability to inspire students, even those with little or no musical talent. He had a knack for finding the inner musician in everyone, young and old. Some of his students had talent and others, not so much. It didn’t matter to him. He touched many lives with his kindness, generosity and willingness to share his music. When Zakir bhai died in April, some of the music left our lives.