Bala Annai, we have not spoken much after the early years during which you used to dispense sound guidance from that reclining chair on MangayarMaami’s Verandah. Nobody knows the profound influence those words would have on my career. Only I know how inspired I was by those ponderings dispensed generously from that famous chair. Nobody knows that how you produced impeccable research work during the spare time of yours to help me. Nobody knows how those things helped me resurrect my sinking dreams at a time when I did not know any better. You showed me how correspondence college tutorials can help avoid big-city life for the sake of professional attainment. When the government service opportunity opened before me, you insisted that I pick it up as a way for securing my studies. You arranged Thamibithirai to accompany me for that interview so that I do not miss a rare opportunity to pay for my ambitions. Yet there is one little secret that even you did not know. Over a few hundred people who would choose Management Accountancy, emulated what you preached me or just followed whatever I did following your guidance. Isn’t that a great feat for that worn-out reclining chair? During a later time, you, me and Thambithirai huddled on the bunds or Rathinannai’s Paddy fields to chart the future of our families together. Except for Thambithurai, no one alive today would know all those details. During our recent our conversation on your latest birth anniversary, you opened to reminisce those matters. You were delighted that I did remember well and did not disappoint you. Fate had a different plan when you wanted to follow up on it a week later. I missed your call. How am I know your days to be numbered? Sorry that I missed a fantastic opportunity. Today, I have two incongruent choices to celebrate you. Either cry over spilt milk or celebrate a life lived well. May your dignified soul find eternal bliss under the holy feet twain of the Great Cosmic Dancer Lord Natarajan