Monday, November 29, 2004
Remembering Dad
My family recently held a memorial service for my father in which I gave a funeral oration. So, for those who weren’t there (and for those who were), I’m reprinting the speech that I gave:
They say that when a person who has lived a long time passes away, it’s as if a library has burnt down. With my father, it’s like M.I.T. has been destroyed. (He was that smart!)
Many of you had seen one side of my father. Well, I hope to show you other sides of my father’s personality of which you may not be aware. For one, Dad was a history buff.
Those who know me know that I am the historian. But, what you may not know is that love of history came from my father. My dad didn’t follow history in its details, but he understood his place in it.
So, here’s a brief historical outline of his life in his own view:
My father was born in 1937 during the days of the British Raj. In that year, the Hindenburg disaster occurred.
When he was five years old, in 1942, he was touched by war when he saw three Japanese planes fly overhead.
In 1947, he heard Nehru speak in the midnight hour when India won its freedom.
1957 was a momentous year for my father, not the least of which was the launching of Sputnik, which also launched the space race.
In 1963, the year he arrived in the U.S., he wept with everyone else on another November day when Kennedy was shot.
And, a few months later, he was among 70 million people who watched the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show!
He lived through the tragedies of 1968, and watched in awe as man landed on the moon in 1969.
In the mid-1970’s, he saw both the fall of Saigon and the fall of Nixon.
And in the 1980’s and ‘90’s, he saw his beloved New York Giants win the Super Bowl – twice!
He saw the coming of the new millennium in 2000, and he witnessed the tragedy of 9/11/2001.
My father was inspired by the past, but, most importantly, he looked to the future. In the larger world, he was an idealist. The India that he left was Nehru’s India, and the America in which he landed was Kennedy’s America. Both nations at that time were full of idealism and of hope, and my father shared in that idealism.
Even though after 40 years, both nations have largely abandoned that legacy, my father never let it go. The image of India that my father had was Nehru’s India, and the image of America was always Kennedy’s America. Till the end, he believed in the audacity of hope – the hope that these ideals would once again return to the two countries he loved.
In the world where many of you may have known him, my father was an intense and driven person who worked to the level of minutiae. Whether it was at the office on one of his many projects or at the cultural programs he helped sponsor, he always showed a determination that have either inspired or shamed others to follow his example.
That determination was there when my father ran away from home to go to school in Banaras. It was there again when he came to America to pursue his doctorate. Education was important for him, and that importance was instilled in the younger generation. We were all inspired by my father’s story. We still are.
My father believed in helping young people for the future. He was a mentor for many of us – both family and friends. Whenever anyone came to visit, he would sit with them and ask what their plans were. If they didn’t have any, he would make sure that they did before they left!
Most of all, he loved his family. Even in his frail condition, his was a presence that will now be sorely missed. From the time that he met my mother in a movie theater to the time of my sister’s marriage, family meant everything to him.
One of the last things he did was hold his granddaughter’s hand. With that gesture, little did we know that the past was giving way to the future. So, as a memorial to my father, we shouldn’t remember him as past, but as a guide for the future.
P.S. Thank you one and all for your prayers and condolences. My family and I deeply appreciate it.
They say that when a person who has lived a long time passes away, it’s as if a library has burnt down. With my father, it’s like M.I.T. has been destroyed. (He was that smart!)
Many of you had seen one side of my father. Well, I hope to show you other sides of my father’s personality of which you may not be aware. For one, Dad was a history buff.
Those who know me know that I am the historian. But, what you may not know is that love of history came from my father. My dad didn’t follow history in its details, but he understood his place in it.
So, here’s a brief historical outline of his life in his own view:
My father was born in 1937 during the days of the British Raj. In that year, the Hindenburg disaster occurred.
When he was five years old, in 1942, he was touched by war when he saw three Japanese planes fly overhead.
In 1947, he heard Nehru speak in the midnight hour when India won its freedom.
1957 was a momentous year for my father, not the least of which was the launching of Sputnik, which also launched the space race.
In 1963, the year he arrived in the U.S., he wept with everyone else on another November day when Kennedy was shot.
And, a few months later, he was among 70 million people who watched the Beatles on The Ed Sullivan Show!
He lived through the tragedies of 1968, and watched in awe as man landed on the moon in 1969.
In the mid-1970’s, he saw both the fall of Saigon and the fall of Nixon.
And in the 1980’s and ‘90’s, he saw his beloved New York Giants win the Super Bowl – twice!
He saw the coming of the new millennium in 2000, and he witnessed the tragedy of 9/11/2001.
My father was inspired by the past, but, most importantly, he looked to the future. In the larger world, he was an idealist. The India that he left was Nehru’s India, and the America in which he landed was Kennedy’s America. Both nations at that time were full of idealism and of hope, and my father shared in that idealism.
Even though after 40 years, both nations have largely abandoned that legacy, my father never let it go. The image of India that my father had was Nehru’s India, and the image of America was always Kennedy’s America. Till the end, he believed in the audacity of hope – the hope that these ideals would once again return to the two countries he loved.
In the world where many of you may have known him, my father was an intense and driven person who worked to the level of minutiae. Whether it was at the office on one of his many projects or at the cultural programs he helped sponsor, he always showed a determination that have either inspired or shamed others to follow his example.
That determination was there when my father ran away from home to go to school in Banaras. It was there again when he came to America to pursue his doctorate. Education was important for him, and that importance was instilled in the younger generation. We were all inspired by my father’s story. We still are.
My father believed in helping young people for the future. He was a mentor for many of us – both family and friends. Whenever anyone came to visit, he would sit with them and ask what their plans were. If they didn’t have any, he would make sure that they did before they left!
Most of all, he loved his family. Even in his frail condition, his was a presence that will now be sorely missed. From the time that he met my mother in a movie theater to the time of my sister’s marriage, family meant everything to him.
One of the last things he did was hold his granddaughter’s hand. With that gesture, little did we know that the past was giving way to the future. So, as a memorial to my father, we shouldn’t remember him as past, but as a guide for the future.
P.S. Thank you one and all for your prayers and condolences. My family and I deeply appreciate it.
