Aqiq M. Khan

Our Nana, "Bismillah al rahman ir raheem. In the name of Allah, the most beneficient, the most merciful."

Mohammad Aqiq Khan, passed away on Thursday, December 13, 2012 at 4.25 in the afternoon in Fairfax Hospital, a place he said was like a home to him. He left his daughters, sons-in-laws and five beautiful grandchildren behind, knowing that they would take care of each other and continue to live the lives he and our mother had always wanted for us.

Nana lived the most amazing life. He defied every odd, tried everything and anything, and pursued every second with wonder, curiosity, and awe. He was born in Bara, a village near Varanassi, one of the holiest sites in India. He played in the Ganges River, had a goat, and knocked mangoes out of their trees when he was a boy and was a dutiful and loving son who made sure his parents, brothers, sister, nieces and nephews—whom he thought of as his own—had the education and support they needed to be successful, independent, happy, and cared for.

Nana studied medicine in India and Pakistan and met our mother, Eu-Eng Khoo, in the U.K. where they were both practicing physicians. They married in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia and set up home in Karachi, Pakistan, in the early seventies until political instability led them to the United States. They arrived in Columbia, Missouri on a day marked by President Nixon’s resignation. Nine months later, they moved to Northern Virginia, where Nana thought, correctly, that his Indian-Pakistani/Chinese-Malaysian family could take advantage of all of the opportunities and benefits that the U.S. had to offer.

Our parents established a private medical practice in Burke, Virginia, where they met and cared for countless other people who became friends and family to us and remain so to this day. By 1994, his entire family had become U.S. citizens, something he was so proud of and never took for granted. They worked hard to make sure their three daughters got excellent educations, from high school to college and graduate school. And they helped us become established, successful individuals with families and careers of our own.

Nana was a Renaissance man like no other. He gardened, skied, and played tennis and traveled to every corner of the world—he met penguins in Antarctica, followed Darwin’s footsteps in the Galapagos, skied every mountain in the U.S. and Europe, went on safari in Africa, and made lifelong friends every single place that he went. He celebrated not one, but two birthdays a year. After he retired, he taught adult education classes on religion and health, organized ski trips for his dear colleagues at Fairfax Hospital, served as a polling place volunteer, was a tennis instructor to kids more than seventy years younger than himself and became a docent at the Library of Congress. He would proudly show you his parking pass to the Library of Congress where he volunteered every Wednesday, driving into D.C. in his Corvette, before stopping by his granddaughter’s preschool where he became a beloved, if not slightly eccentric, presence.

He taught us that nothing is more important than education. That all people, religions and gods are equally good and demand our respect. He implored us to think for ourselves, take care of each other, and trust the good in all people. He thought of every child as his own and made no distinction when it came to his unconditional love and support.

Nana worked so hard and was so determined through the very last day of his life. He loved his home, his family, and his friends. He would want us to celebrate him and each other; read everything; save our money; always vote and drive carefully; and live life with humility, curiosity, and joy.

In lieu of flowers and cards, he would want everyone to give to others in whatever way they can.

We love you, Nana. You are the best father anyone could ever have. Thank you for everything that you’ve given to us. We’re so happy that you are with Mom, and that we will see you in rainbows, flowers, ocean waves and in the faces and lives of our children.

We love you,

Mina, TK and Lulu, Alex, Raheem, and Scott, Noah, Tarik, Malik, Khaleed, and Safiya Eu-Eng.

Kahlil Gibran - On Children

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children

as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves also the bow that is stable.