By Kulbhushan Kain
The one thing that I dislike about writing is, writing obituaries. However, when someone very dear and close leaves the world – there is no better catharsis then to pen down the accumulated grief. Yesterday evening, a dear friend Sudhir Arora passed away. He was no ordinary friend. He was a friend whom I knew from school since 1965. We grew up together. We met occasionally though not frequently. But he was like a fixed deposit in a good bank. I never feared losing him. I also knew that the friendship would only multiply and grow. And it did till death struck him. All of a sudden, I feel like a man whose lifelong earnings have vanished. As the Terry Jacks song goes:
“Goodbye to you my trusted friend
We have known each other since we were nine or ten
Together we climbed hills and trees,
Learnt of love and ABCs
Skinned our hearts and skinned our knees….”
The sun and the seasons are never going to be the same ever again.
He was a brilliant student in school. He was amongst the toppers of our class. He was a voracious reader and a lover of literature. He wrote fluently and later in life became an expert on military history. He was an encyclopedia of knowledge. But he kept a low profile. He never flaunted the fact that he was an alumnus of the IIM Ahmedabad (the Harvard of Business Schools in India) nor that he was the President of the prestigious Doon Club. He was an indefatigable problem solver. Along with another lovely classmate of mine, the late Suhash Chaddha, he created our batchmates’ WhatsAap group. It was he who tirelessly ironed out the differences of opinion which erupted on it – on and off. He would always consult me – as I am sure he must have others as well. I have transcripts (lengthy ones) of my chats with him. They are a lesson in diplomacy, firmness and persuasion. These qualities came naturally to him.
The last time we talked to each other was about 6 months ago. He rang me up and told me he was selling his property just opposite Welham Boys Main Gate. I asked him where he was planning to relocate. He told me, “Thano. Dalanwala is no longer the place I have spent my life in. In Thano, I will write a book. Maybe two.”
I interrupted him, “Maybe 3, 4, 5, 10 Sudhir.”
He laughed it off.
I have lost a dear friend. Dehradun has lost an eminent citizen.
He never missed a cremation or a prayer meeting. I always met him. He was there to share everyone’s grief.
I used to get feedback about his health. At times, I was told that his life hung by a slim thread. At other times, I was told he was recovering.
I always prayed for him, but to no avail. As Javed Akhtar wrote
“किसी ने खुदा से दुआ माँगी,
दुआ में अपनी मौत माँगी,
खुदा ने कहा, मौत तो तुझे दे दूँ मगर,
उसे क्या कहूँ जिसने तेरी ज़िंदगी की दुआ माँगी”
God will have to answer me one day. Farewell Sudhir.
Bon Voyage to the world of the Gods.
