Julian Ahmed Karim

Julian Ahmed Karim was born in Pietrasanta, Italy on the 13th of November 1991 to Reshad Ahmed Karim and Rosanna Maria Rita Iacono Karim. He was a beloved son, father, brother, grandson, nephew, cousin and friend. He was a child of boundless energy, who gloried in attention and enjoyed entertaining family and friends alike. A Renaissance man in every way, our Julian was an extraordinary dancer, a black belted martial artist and a gymnast. But his talents extended beyond his physical abilities- he was a deep thinker, a writer, a spoken word poet and a recording artist. His music and lyrics carried his pain and bliss in equal measure. Full of humour, love, darkness, fear and generosity, his poetry was perhaps, next to his children, his greatest passion. He wanted the world to hear the words that bellowed from his soul and his heart. Julian shared his deepest thoughts, his personal tragedies, his triumphs and his emotional inner life with the world. As a spoken word poet, he was a word smith, his ability to rhyme equaling the greatest of lyricists. Words were his outlet; poetic form, vocality and his desire to share showed his true artistry.

As a father, he filled his children’s lives with play. Joyful often, generous ever, Julian taught his children, Giancarlo (7) and Scarlett (4) what it meant to be loved.

He was an epicure- tasting life’s pleasures with no regret or remorse, particularly when it came to food- standing in front of the fridge with a wondering look and a grumbling stomach was a signature trademark when he came home or was visiting any family.

He wanted to be a philosopher – even talked about doing a Ted Talk – so much did he want to get his message out to the world: not to be afraid of the demons inside; not to be afraid of tumultuous emotion, not to be afraid of pain- that this was life, this is what it meant to be human. Burying, suppressing feelings only makes us ill. Julian understood this when so many of us didn’t understand him. In the form we knew him, he is lost to us, and our hearts are broken, but he is not gone. He is, in his own words, dancing on an ‘astral plane’ and each time we close our eyes, we will see him shimmy and when we listen closely to the wind, we can hear his rhymes:

​Don’t forget

​That our minds are still awake

​Makin us gods in a way,

​That, only u can change

​Then love will lead the way.

​​​​(Poetic Jules)