An Obituary

The brave die never, though they sleep in dust:
Their courage nerves a thousand living men.
~Minot J. Savage

These words appears no more apt than today as I stand here mourning the death of a dear departed friend. Our acquaintance goes back more than 2 years when I first met him while travelling towards the Whitefield IT corridor. He lay there, as he did all through his eventful life, and made an immediate impact on me. My body reverberated from the impact and I knew I had met someone significant.

As time progressed, I noticed that I was not the only one whose life was changed by this noble being. Millions of others had a similar experience with him. That he was the best in business was a forgone conclusion. He did what was expected of him in a manner which evoked both awe and reverence. Thousands of his brethren were inspired by his deeds and the fame which followed. But they say fame inevitably invites problems. Our friend and his kind were brutally massacred and levelled to the ground on an unforgettable cold day this December by over-eager civil servants. This misdeed was condemned by the millions of daily commuters to the Whitefield IT corridor, for our friend gave them everything they ever wanted - joy, pain and more importantly, a lesson that keeping an eye on the path of life is the best way to avert regrets later. To them, he was the pillar of reliability, one they could rely on to be where he always was found, any day or any season.

To repeat a cliché, pictures speak better than thousand words. You can see him here. (picture courtesy)

He may have died a valorous death, but his soul lives on, in the millions of his followers who will, no doubt, crop up all over bangalore soon and strive to perpetuate his legacy. As Minot says, he has not died, he just sleeps in his dust.