Samoresh Das: 1939-2007

Dear dad,

So here we are, this cold winter's day, a million miles from the heat and humidity of mother India, as you prepare to take your final journey.

The sadness we all feel today cannot be described; family, friends, colleagues, all over the world, our words cannot even come close to expressing the grief, the sense of loss, the hole in our lives that has been left by your passing.

You touched many, many lives with your kindness, warmth and generosity, always smiling, seldom short. You instilled in me and Sandip the values of decency, respect, discipline, fairness and effort, values by which we live our lives, values all men should hold true.

More than four decades of working in this country, nearly a half-century of employment from Selfridges to JFS and not a single day absent or late. An incredible record, a record of which to be proud, one to inspire and extol.

You also passed on to us a great passion for sport, namely cricket. I can see you shaking your head in resignation at the horror-show at the MCG, as appalled at India's capitualtion as you would have been delighted by the Windies' resurgence at Port Elizabeth.

And, come midsummer, the Saturday of the Lord's Test, the glorious twelfth day of July, amidst the sizzling sun and lengthening shadows, I just know you'll be up there in the Long Room in the sky, alongside Johnners, the Don and WG, pint of Old Speckled Hen in hand, bemoaning another batting collapse by England or marvelling at the class of Smith and Ntini.

We've also inherited your passion for politics, for the cause, for doing the right thing. I remember the first time you took me to vote, that historic May day in '97, when all was rosy.

It feels like only yesterday.

The boycott of South Africa, forgoing the opportunity to watch the great Graeme Pollock, refusing to buy their produce, marching, protesting. Just one man playing a small part maybe, but, in this era of apathy, an example of real people effecting real change, saving real lives.

The voluntary work cannot go unmentioned, nor can the charity donations. The Scouts, Bangla School, Mitali, Sribhumi, the alleygating committee, in the neighbourhood, in the community, globally whenever disaster struck. The time, the energy, the money, appreciated by all.

So much to say, so many memories, a life lived to the full but with so much more to give, cruelly cut short.

You'll be with us forever, in spirit, in mind and in soul.

We'll never forget you.

Till the next time dad, till the next life, till we meet again.

Your loving son,

Shamik

Sri Samoresh "Manthu" Das (1^st June 1939 - 25^th December 2007)