A requiem for a great man.

On the 29th of April, it was 19 years to the day when my maternal grandfather left this world, leaving his family to mourn his death, yet many more to celebrate his life. At the time, he was my best friend, my teacher and my go-to guy for any reason permitted within the subjectivities of this universe. That I'm so curious about the oddest of things has a lot to do with the encouragement (and patronage, even) I received from Dadu.

Growing up, he'd spend one month of his summer holidays at his maternal grandparents' in the country. He'd save money through the year - amounting to no more than a couple of rupees, if that - to buy chhola and gur once there. Then, in the sweltering heat, he'd distribute the chhola, gur and water to weary travellers from morning till evening. He did this every day, for thirty days, every year for close to a decade.

After the Partition, he became the head of an inordinately large family. Instead of buckling under the myriad pressures of such a huge responsibility, he made sure that his brothers and sisters, infinite cousins, other distant relatives, and even friends (or relations of friends and/or their friends) from the East received the best possible schooling, and arranged for all their marriages. He did this without arrogance and sought, instead, to infuse all those he'd cared for with the confidence which would supply the strength to stand on their feet.

As the president of the now-defunct Parents' Council of the school in which I spent 15 years of my life, he voluntarily helped an uncountable number of people through their years in school, from getting them in to providing career advice. His famous wit, which sliced like a knife I'm told, flowed from a natural ease and a readiness to look at the bright side of the world.

I don't remember much of him, though. I can only faintly recollect his voice and the memory of his face is now lost to the few pictures that are left hanging on the walls of his loved ones. What I've received from him, though, I hold very close to my heart: the pursuit of truth. I wish that when I've paid my dues and am ready to set sail, the world is closer to how Dadu envisioned it - more peaceful, more hopeful and filled with the sounds of laughter.

Note of absence.

It's been a while since I've had the freedom to indulge in giving vent to my thoughts on the intrawebs. For those that stare at this blog as their sole means of entertainment through the day, I duly apologise. For those who hardly stop by (or not at all), well, fuck you. One should also notice that I use "intrawebs" instead of "internet." Yeah, I'm cool like that.

For those still in doubt, let me assure you that a lot was happening in the last 6 weeks which kept this blogger away. Firstly, there were term papers to be submitted: 7 of them, all around 5,000 words (give or take a few) of original research, I kid you not! By the time I emerged from the ordeal of reading, writing, rewriting, footnoting, reading some more and throwing my hands up in despair having discovered that there was so much I'd failed to include in my papers, I'd learnt to tell time in three exciting new ways, and my pinkies were twitching with the sensation of a cell-phone vibration.

Secondly, I had exams to take, and they magically commenced a week from the day that term-paper madness was resolved. All's well that ends well, though, and so I know that my finals have been horrible. They ended today with a train-wreck of a French paper which has left me with thoughts of my first ever F and a supplementary to take in August. I wish I could say that what did me in were the fine points of Camus' philosophy which are, indeed, hard to decipher in English, much less elaborate in French. However, it was only a regulation, elementary French exam, in which I could not even differentiate between a pronom possessif and a pronom demonstratif.

There were interesting developments too. An organisation in DC to which I'd forgotten I'd applied for an internship had conveniently forgotten to let me know that they "can't accommodate me this summer." Bah, what else is new? I did get in touch with a very nice professor in California as part of the APSA Mentoring Initiative who should, over the coming months, sugar-coat all my failures to traverse the RTU. I signed up for the UGC's NET, which is a written exam that qualifies test-takers to teach in Indian universities should they pass: so, if you qualify for Lecturership, you've got some slick jizz, and if you also qualify for a Junior Research Fellowship, you're hot piss! The test's on the 29th of June, so I've got some time to underprepare for it. I was also invited to a seminar in DC, which I should be able to attend if some generous benefactors purchase a ticket for me.

Finally, I'm thankful to the great archiving efforts of Google, which have now allowed for this blog to be returned through searches, though one must take care to use quotes. And with that, I'm back to confer my deference to theory and my condescension to the world. Ciao!