A BELOVED father and grandfather whose shop was at the heart of a Bradford community has died, aged 77.

Hanif Ahmed Sheikh is remembered here in a moving tribute by his son, Qaisar Sheikh, who runs Rimmington Pharmacy in Bradford:

"My father was born in 1943 in Chowki Samani, a small village in Kashmir, Pakistan. He was a man who appreciated the values of hard work and ambition. Working on the farmland with his father from a young age he knew exactly what it took to yield the best crops; care, love and patience. It was this same philosophy he applied to his own life, dreaming of a brighter future for his much loved and cherished children.

The year was 1963 when my father arrived in the UK. He spent his first few years travelling the country trying to establish a life for himself. This period in his life brought him experiences of homelessness, racism, humility and heartache with the death of his father.

During the 1960s there was a strong sense of hatred and anger towards migrants coming from a newly independent Pakistan. Those once colonial Pakistanis came thinking they would be welcomed by people they had seen during their childhood in what was British occupied India. My father would tell me of working at Lister Mills, a white foreman would tell him to eat his lunch in the farthest corner of the corridor. He mocked him and claimed that smells coming from the curry and chapatis made him feel sick. Years later an encounter in Mumtaz restaurant brought my dad to tears. This same foreman was there enjoying a meal with his friends. The rich aromas of cardamon and spices filled the room. After a moment of contemplation my dad approached his old foreman and gave him the biggest hug he had ever given. The foreman realised who he was, and they sat and spoke at length. The hardship my dad and his generation encountered are lessons for us today.

My father settled in Bradford and queued all night for a ticket for the Beatles at the Gaumont Theatre. He would always speak to us about integration, recognising and accepting differences and learning from people around us. Although he would reinforce our cultural and religious values, there was always a sense of wanting to belong to this country.

In 1970 my father established his own business, a corner shop in West Bowling. It was a huge achievement for a man who came to this country with nothing. Hanif Food Stores was the heart of the community. Here he was able to connect with young and old, advising, guiding, inspiring. This corner shop was my 'internet' growing up; I learnt through the views of an eclectic community.

Unlike today, an era of online shopping, it was these corner shops that defined communities. My father, through this modest shop, guided me and my brothers and sisters to our professional lives. The values and morals I learned in that shop will stay with me for the rest of my life.

In 2006 my father was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease and faced it with positivity and courage. Being a pharmacist, I tell my patients that taking your medication on time is paramount to the quality of life you have. Routine was always part of my father’s life.

Growing up watching my father feed the pigeons outside his corner shop, and in later years in his garden, I now appreciate his caring nature. He did this every day for 60 years. He would say: 'These pigeons have migrated from far lands, as I did all those years ago. Take care of them.' On the day of his funeral we passed his old corner shop and there perched on the rooftops were his beloved pigeons, maybe to send their final farewell.

From being a young boy who began life in a remote village in Kashmir, growing wheat and barley from the land, he spent his final days with a small patch of soil nurturing his apples and pears. At the age of 76 he made it his mission to take his own pear from his tree in Bradford to Pakistan where his story began. There in the garden of his childhood home he buried it with the hope of a lasting memory, and inspiration for those that heard his story.

My dad always put his family first, he nurtured his children with the same discipline, love and honour. In his footsteps we endeavour to raise our own children with the same ethos. My father understood what was required to bring something to its potential, whether that was his community, children... or his beloved apples and pears."