From Shekhar Fufaji

Shekhar Fufaji and Deepa Bua are the closest friends of the family. Bua met Tutu in Sydney briefly, and Fufaji never at all. It hasn't stopped him from being a wonderful source of consolation, and of courage. In the darkest days, it was his mail 'किसके रोके रुका है सवेरा (For who has been able to stop the dawn)' that was the light at the end of the tunnel. You'd have loved Tutu, Fufaji.

"Dear Sonu,

Thanks for including me in this circulation despite the fact that I did not have the privilege of meeting Tutu at all. Therefore, I have come to know him only vicariously. But from what I have come know, it's obvious that while he lived his short life well ... and will live forever in the hearts and minds of those who dearly loved him. I am reminded of the following lines:

The Song That Will Never End

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 glint on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you wake in the morning hush,

I am the swift, uplifting rush.

Of quiet birds in circling flight,

I am the soft starlight at night.

I am the song that never ends,

For I am the love of family and friends.

I am the child who has come to rest,

In the arms of the Father who knows him best.

When you see the sunset fair,

I am the scented evening air.

I am the joy of a task well done,

I am the glow of the setting sun. \

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there, I did not die!

AMIT DUTTA

(16 May 1975 – 21 Jan 2009)

Yours in his remembrance,

Shekhar Uncle"

From Pradeep Da

Pradeep Da, Amit's uncle (mesho), sent a picture he had taken on 06 January '09, just two weeks before. Amit was attending his cousin Diya's dance recital at the Habitat Centre in Delhi.

From Samir

Friend first, TCS colleague later, Samir sent me this video several months back, and in many ways, started me thinking about doing this. I wanted to document how many people loved him, and in so many, many different ways.

His mail said he had played it at the TCS annual sales meet last year. Samir's mail sat there in the inbox for a long, long time before I could gather the courage to play it. Samir, hate you for making me cry - everytime.

For you, Mota.

"The summer of life just gave way

To the Wintery nights of you gone away..."