(Prakash, 09.09.1953 - 08.09.2018)

Tuesday, September 4th: The hug was tight, the words were warm, 'I have to come and give you some things I want only you to have.' No matter I don’t have the 'things' but I don’t have Prakash either. Our telephone conversations were long, very long. They touched everything from sausages to salsa dancing. They always, but always ended with, 'love to Naushad, love to Alisha.'

We go back a long way, Prakash and I; fifty plus years. We were in the same class and went to all his 'dance parties', as he called them. Prakash loved to dance, he loved jazz, he loved food. Prakash loved life. Man, did he love life. How else can one explain his indomitable spirit and courage as he battled his illness?

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