In Eternal Memory of a Mentor Whose Legacy Transcends Time, Sir Yaseen Irfan Mohtisham.
By: Ruqayya Kobatte
Innā Lillāhi wa Innā Ilayhi Rājiʿūn.
There are souls whose presence is so profound, whose influence so enduring, that even in their absence, they continue to illuminate lives. Sir was one such individual—a man of rare character, whose life was defined by purpose, humility, and unwavering service to humanity. To articulate the kind of person that he was is a task far beyond the reach of words for me, it will never fully capture the essence of who he truly was.
From the humblest of beginnings, he rose gracefully with quiet strength, such unshakeable resolve and resilience that he became a beacon for generations to follow. Choosing not the path of personal gain, but that of collective upliftment. Though an advocate, he declined to practice in a profession that, as he often said, might compromise his values. Instead, he dedicated himself fully to the noble craft of teaching, not merely as a profession, but as a sacred responsibility.
He didn’t just teach—he moulded, nurtured, and elevated every soul entrusted to his care. We weren’t just his students, we were his own.“Bete,” he’d call us, and he meant it with every fibre of his being. His academy was more than just a centre for learning. It was a sanctuary, a place where aspirations were born, confidence restored, and futures shaped. I joined it with a simple goal of learning Urdu while switching schools, but it soon became my second home. Sir’s teaching style was unlike anything I had ever experienced—immersive, captivating, transformative. He would often organise engaging quizzes where creativity mattered more than scores, each one crafted to spark curiosity. Even the prizes were unique—a reflection of his own originality. In his own quiet way, he was redefining what joy of learning truly feels like. Sir had the rare ability to make a classroom feel like a world of its own, and under his guidance, Social studies became my favourite subject and a perfect score of 100 wasn’t just an academic achievement—it was a tribute to his vision, his uncompromising standards, and the brilliance of his meticulously crafted notes that left no space for mistakes. With him, History or any other subject for that matter wasn’t merely a subject but a lived experience. The motto of Sir’s academy is ‘Aspire High’—and true to its words, He inspires every student to reach beyond limits and aim for excellence. To this day, Mohtisham Academy remains etched in my heart—not just for what it gave me academically, but for what it instilled in me spiritually. While delivering my acceptance speech for Rabita award I made it a point to proudly mention due credit to Mohtisham Academy first—because that’s where it all began. As soon as I stepped off the stage, I called Sir and he had said with joy in his voice, “I was listening to the live telecast whilst driving bete, I heard every word of it and I’m proud of you. His voice held the same warmth, pride, and encouragement that he had offered me and countless others for years. That moment remains one of the most special memories of my life. He made us believe that our success was not just personal—it was a trust, a means to give back, to uplift our Nawayath community, to serve humanity.
“Khidmat-e-Khalq is Khidmat-e-Khuda,” he would often remind us.
Having spent five formative years under his mentorship, I eventually transitioned from the nurturing walls of the academy into the demanding world of Medicine. Yet, even as I moved forward, his unwavering support remained constant. He held a vision for my future with the same sincerity and pride as my own parents. But this profound care wasn’t just unique to me. Everyone who had the honour of being his student would bear witness to this truth—He was, in every sense, an educator in the truest, most selfless form. Sir had an almost sacred commitment to keeping track of our journeys, as if every student’s story was a thread in the fabric of his life’s purpose. He knew each student by name, by strength, by struggle. No child left his academy unnoticed—no hunger ignored, no voice silenced, no dream dismissed. If ever our means of transport was delayed or unavailable from the academy, he would take it upon himself to ensure we reached home safely—always accompanied by his wife. He paid special attention to the underprivileged and held a sacred reverence for the education of girls. “Educate a daughter,” he would often say, “and you uplift an entire generation.” For us he was a father figure. Every encounter with him ended with a string of duas wrapped in kindness, as though he was quietly lighting the path ahead for us.
In a society where people often fall short of recognising the true value of women especially daughters, He cherished his daughters and wife deeply. After the birth of his first daughter, We would often hear him say with quiet pride, “I pray that Allah blesses me with three daughters,”—and indeed, Allah fulfilled that heartfelt dua of his. I vividly recall how he had once introduced them to me with a glimmer of pride in his eyes, saying, “I pray for them to be just like you” And I, overwhelmed, remember saying ‘’Sir, With someone like you as their guide Allah will undoubtedly shape them into the best versions of themselves’’ In sha Allah.
In one of our last conversations, Sir had invited me to visit his academy saying “Ganwath ailaan please academy visit kar bete, Bhalli sar updates deun kaas tuka, Mashware karu kaas” and I had promised to visit. That one meeting, still remains pending—etched in my heart, suspended in time. The day I got the news of his departure, I had come across his photo in my gallery and instinctively smiled assuming he had been felicitated for something that he has achieved again and was ready to message him and congratulate, only to discover the heart-wrenching truth after reading what was written beneath Sir’s photo, a farewell note. His departure serves as a reminder of how fleeting this life is and how eternal the next.
People may say he is survived by his 3 beloved children and wife, but his students know that he leaves behind thousands mourning, each carrying a spark of his light, each a living continuation of his legacy. And yet, even in grief, there is gratitude. Because we were among the blessed—to have known a man who was so dignified in character, generous in spirit, and committed to the betterment of our society. He was a man of vision—deeply pained by the untapped brilliance of Bhatkal’s youth, and fiercely determined to awaken it. With remarkable character, a poetic soul, and a heart that beat for the Nawayath community, he left behind not just a legacy, but a blueprint for a better future of our community. Yaseen Sir lived the words he preached. He didn’t merely instruct us to remain rooted—he exemplified it. He didn’t just advocate for service—he embodied it. May Allah help us carry his vision for a stronger, more enlightened Bhatkal forward—with the same sincerity, service, and love with which he lived. Ameen.
May Allah ﷻ ease all his affairs in the hereafter and grant him peace in every stage of the journey to Jannah, envelope him in infinite mercy and grant him the highest of ranks in Jannatul Firdous, let every word he taught become a source of eternal reward, let every soul he nurtured become a light in his grave. Accept his life as one of Sadaqah Jāriyah—a continuous charity through knowledge passed on, hearts transformed, and a generation awakened. Grant his beloved children strength, honour, and the tawfiq to walk in his radiant footsteps. And when it is our time, reunite us in the company of the righteous, beneath the shade of his mercy. Ameen
He wasn’t just a mentor—He was a force of positivity, a movement in himself and the legacy he leaves behind is nothing short of admirable.
And I will proudly remain with reverence Umeed-e-Mohtesham, a child of Sir Yaseen Irfan Mohtisham’s vision.
