The peels of His laughter that lived with us, fade away. The Master’s jester who made us fall laughing in love with Him, has taken a final bow. The expert conversationalist who drew from the Divine’s absolute silence, precious gems of wisdom, dissolves into that very silence. Having translated Him in words and then in deeds, he now ends his translation. Our beloved Anil Kumar sir, whom we would fondly refer to as MAK (just to capture his vivacious persona and for no other logical reason) has drawn curtains on what is the most enviable of lives.

The very embodiment of mirth and geniality, a mere accosting by him from afar would send out ripples of laughter and make the one thus endearingly ‘assaulted’ feel seen and loved. You could be anyone, he will not hesitate to pull a quick one on you and for it, he would use his incredible memory. But that’s not what made him special. With no hubris whatsoever, he would denigrate himself before a crowd if need be; if only it could make Swami laugh or even grin. It was all worth it for him, for what is a life where your dignity chokes the very child within, even as you stand before the Mother of all? ‘Chandrakala, Chandrakantha, Subbulaksmi’ and many more such names became epithets Swami would use for him. Hidden in that playfulness perhaps was a truth Swami was proclaiming – you are to Me more than just this body and name, our bond older than your this personality, you are much dearer than you can ever muse you are to Me.

Hearing him speak about Swami’s message was like listening to a connoisseur of food describing a delicacy. His intoned expressions would make you relish the nuances that were lost on you otherwise. And when he spoke of Swami and His ways, it gave one the pure magical feeling of believing in fairytales again. I can’t count the hours I’ve spent listening to his talks, crying silently, feeling so close to Swami, and just being grateful for knowing Him. Sir’s words, his laughter and the heart-tugging chokes in between, would melt all complaints, worries and bitterness in the mind and quietly replace them with a throbbing emotion, that could voice but two words – “My Swami!”

I will remember him ever and tell myself, Swami’s presence in my life too should manifest as the Joie de vivre that he embodied. Little fortunes in life make us happy, what limitless delight should be my lot knowing I have Him as my own. Till the very end, Anil Kumar sir’s laughter, his humour, and his every word shone with that unsullied childlike joy. A joy so fulfilling that in his prayer to Swami, he sought to refuse even the coveted liberation. He said, Swami, what have I to do with Moksha? Let me come again and again, merely to spread Your glory!

We can never think of Anil Kumar sir’s histrionics without remembering Swami’s chuckle, we can never hear his voice and not remember His voice, and we can never remember Prof Anil Kumar ever without being reminded of his Swami. Can there be a greater achievement than becoming such an indelible part of the Eternal? Dear Sir, whoever has heard you has only loved Swami more. As those who owe a little of the depth in our love for Swami to your words, we express gratitude to you, and to Swami, for you.

J Prem Anosh MSc Chemistry 2004 Prasanthi Nilayam