Willie Weng!! Or as we Bengalis are prone to pronounce it – Billie Beng!!! (and to the veterans of that character building exercise called Toshiba project from i2 days – simply Wiilie-san!!)
A pleasanter person I have never met in my life!
Since my first meeting with him in 1995, he has been the example of personal humility that I have fruitlessly toiled to emulate…
Business trips to Dallas always means opportunities to quickly reconnect.
Ran (barely managed to keep up is a better way of putting it) 5 miles with Subrata. I had met him way back in 2001 – and they promptly left for China! (Yeah! I kind of have that effect on people 🙂 ) Our original connection was that my sister and his wife were elementary school classmates.
Next time I met him was in 2010 – Jan 1st when a bunch of us Bengalis went out for a run in Dallas to welcome the New Year.
Today, after the run, we sat down at the Starbucks to get to know each other a little more. Like me, he was born in a very small village! Unlike me, his rest of his growing up was in the same village. (That village got electricity after he moved to US).
Now get this. There is another small village nearby from there. Both our sisters are married to two guys from that other small village!! Same age group! We are trying to find out if they knew each other!! His brother-in-law’s dad was the headmaster of the school that my brother-in-law went to!!!
Go figure!!
Remember my point about intersection points!!! 🙂
… a week after I heard the “news”
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
Poet: Mary Elizabeth Frye (1905-2004)
It finally hit me like a ton of bricks this morning. As I drove away after dropping my daughter at school and headed to office.
He is not going to be there. I will not see him. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Howmuchever I loiter around his cubicle.
I was able to block away the thought of he having died the whole of yesterday. I kept reminding myself about how I walked up to his cubicle to wish him a happy birthday just a few weeks back.
Staring at the road waiting at the traffic light with dawn barely breaking, I realized that his wife will soon be on the road like me – dropping their kid or grocery shopping – and realizing that he will not be home when she went back. Not that day. Not the next day. Not ever.
Remembering how my daughter told me “I will see you in the evening” before she trotted off to school, I realized there is not going be any such evening for his three kids. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not ever.
It is the finality of death that quashes all hopes of being ever together – even for a fleeting moment. And it is that snatching away of any hope of being together that I cannot ever deal with.
I am the guy who is still looking for his friends who crossed his path 40 years back.
He crossed my path barely a few days back.
If only – if only – I was given one more “intersection point”, this is what I would say-
“Teach me how to be humble like you, teach me how to always smile like you, teach me how to be a great father like you”.
God, I miss you, David Yankey.
The nagging sense of a missed opportunity to smile at a kid was powerful enough that I went back to the same running route this morning. Figured I might be able to see the kid on his way to school – if that is where he was heading the previous day.
On my way forward, I did not see him.
On my way back, I went past the school again and still did not see him.
Just as I was going to turn into the road back to Starbucks, I spotted him at a distance – with his mom. This time I was determined.
Changed my route, ran towards them and then slowed down. Smiling ear to ear, I took my cap off and told the kid that the previous day he had waved at me. I felt very special and that nobody usually does that. (Completely skipped the smiling part 🙂 ). He gave that same awesome smile and looked up to his mom.
His mom and I exchanged pleasantries (he is a kindergartner and goes to the school that I ran past). Then we fist bumped each other (I mean the kid and I – not his mom and I :-)) and proceeded on our own “lines”.
Now that is an intersection point I can live with!!!
