14 September 2017, Mandai Crematorium Singapore, Singapore
Written by Divya but read by her husband Vivek because Divya was in Australia
“Mom, why do the best people die?”
“When you’re in a garden, which flowers do you pick?”
“The most beautiful ones.”
There was only one kind of Pankaj. He was the guy with a funny bone, he could make you laugh so hard, you had to beg him to stop because he’d keep going till tears were streaming down you face.
He was a storyteller, he’d take inane situations and narrate it with his own twist - dialogue and action, it was his gift. He loved seeing people laugh. The more you laughed the more he notched it up. His joy was seeing others happy.
He was a gentle giant at 6 ft 4” with a big heart. He felt strongly about everything. He loved his parents and sister fiercely. He was besotted to Bably. His girls were his pride and his late pet Paris (an English Mastiff) proved he never did anything low- key.
They say if you want to know a person, see how he treats his staff. He never had a negative thing to say about his help. Even when he didn't need the additional support he got while his dad was ill, he refused to let her go because he couldn't imagine her being without a job.
He was a friend collector. Once he made a friend, he cherished them. He kept in touch with friends all the way from his college days. That’s how I got to know him. Pankaj and my husband Vivek did they Engineering together in India. My husband not the best at staying in touch, bumped into Pankaj years later in Singapore and that’s how our families became friends. His house always had guests. If it wasn't family, it was friends. He made it a point to meet them when he travelled to their destination or they visited him in Singapore.
He was a talker. When he called, you couldn't make it a quick one because he called to catch up. To share something about his life or find out about yours. He cared about everyone that crossed his path. He was emotional. He was deeply affected by the 2012 Delhi gang rape case and wanted to join politics to bring change. He wanted people around him to be equally affected and he could convince you with his passion.
He was a sharp business man and a wealthy one at that. Everything he touched turned to gold. He loved making money and living the good life. But he was also a giver. He gave without expecting anything in return.
He had impeccable taste. From his car, to his house, to his clothes, to his dog, he could raise an eyebrow with his eye for style. And Bably raised the bar with him. His one weakness was good food. He was a small eater but every morsel had to count. And he was very appreciative of good food, exclaiming in joy with every bite, the effort of the cook couldn't be more valued.
He was a homebody. He enjoyed staying in and entertaining over heading out for the evening. He was an attentive host who took pains to find out what you'd like to eat and drink, then he’d shop with Bably, and come up with a menu so amazing, it beat restaurant standards.
His table conversation covered unspeakable things. For those who were not familiar, it could be a real shock at first but soon warm up to the sex, toilet habits and a whole range of taboo topics.
He kept in touch with his masis, buas (aunts), mama (uncles), cousins like they all lived in the neighborhood. He cared for the wellbeing of his in-laws and Bably brothers like his own. He had a short temper but only his dearest got to see that side of him.
When his dad was diagnosed with mild lymphoma in August 2014 in India, Pankaj brought him to Singapore for treatment because he didn’t want his parents to go through that alone. That was an intense year for him, Bably and he had just had their 3rd child in May that year, but he was the ever-devoted son. Unfortunately, on the cusp of his father’s cure came the diagnoses of his cancer, acute lymphoblastic leukemia in June 2015. He was worried but didn't cave under that pressure, instead he went equipped with all the knowledge he could gather and this time, got the best doctor for himself. Every time something came up, he came up with another alternative. He never gave in to cancer. He was positive to the last day that he would beat it because he left nothing to chance.
But being a practical chap, he started thinking about his young wife with equally young girls. He came up with SA-ME-ZA a father’s love for his daughters. The name represented his 3 daughters - Sana, Meher and Naweeza. He devoted 2 years while undergoing treatment to make this premium basmati rice brand Bably’s new venture, because he wanted his family to have a backup plan if things went south for him.
His biggest disappointment today would be, he didn't get the better of cancer. Not once did he cower in the face of the disease. He faced it like he did everything in his life, looking for a solution. He wanted to live because he loved life. He wanted to live so he could continue to love Bably. He wanted to live because he wanted his daughters to grow up having a father.
Today, each of us grieve the loss of one man but in so many different forms: a devoted son, a doting brother, a caring nephew, a loving cousin, a friend who had your back, a besotted husband and a proud dad. What will stay with us though is his laughter and his love for life which was snatched too soon from us.
Bably, Sana, Meher, and Naweeza your loss is irreplaceable.
