Monday 24 December, 2012

An Obituary

The old man breathed his last this morning. The end took a while to come. But, Time catches up with everyone. Years of toil and age have taken a toll on his health; his frail body looking a distant shadow of his former self. The ‘who’s who’ of the city gathered outside his mansion to pay their last respects. In the queue are business magnates who transacted with him, big shots from politics, celebrities, IIM understudies he mentored, his detractors who for all their professional rivalry still revere him, friends of his older days, and the general public who venerate him to heavenly proportions.

What has this man did that deserves this level of adulation! It’s no simple accomplishment for one who came into the city with nothing more than a ruck-sack. I look back at the times when the old man was still The Man. Looks like distant memories, the days when he, as a kid moved into the settlement with his brothers, and begun their family trade in a small hut. Gradually, his youthful blood and natural instincts developed the business into one of the best in the city. Growth brings wealth; and wealth tends to extinguish the inner fire for excellence. His brothers un-winded gradually; but he went on, chugging like a steamer on full fire. He single-handedly built the family trade into one of the best business empire of the city. What was their hut has now metamorphosed into one of the grandest mansions in the city.

History was in the making. His success story kindled the aspirations of the city’s youth. A new generation grew inspired by his success story; he shone brightly as a guiding light in their lives. His fame attained legendary status; people revered him as their god father to say the least.

But, Time is a great equalizer. Came Fame, Then Came Fall. Age brought with it ailments. Health failed and so did his reputation. His children bickered over his business empire; once the jewel, he was now seen as a liability. The very mouths that praised him, the very hands that waited to shake hands with him, began ignoring and foul-mouthing. The saying one is only as good as his last achievement bore true yet again.

He could sense the end was nearing; but his obsessive passion for his business blurred his vision and masked the reality. His very children showed signs of dissent and sidelined him. Off late, he would withdraw into a shell and dwell over his predicament in silent contemplation. Rational reasoning would advise him to step down, but his passion would inevitably pull him back; bursts of energy would propel him for a few days only to dump him back in sickness and desolation sooner.

Finally, the day has come. Today, the city mourns his passing away; they recollect the hay days of his life, the ordeals that this man went through, the one-man army that bore the burdens of the business and hopes of millions. Superlatives fail to describe his success. To dream is one thing, to achieve it is another! But to have passion in the blood, and not letting the blinding adulation and glory diminish the heart’s burning desire to excel is no mean achievement. This old man deserves a salute just for that!

PS: A scruffy attempt on an obituary. How I wish I could name the old man!

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