Gently Into The Night...

India has lost a former finance and defence minister. Our democracy is now bereft of one of the finest parliamentarians that has adorned its chambers. Justice weeps, for it has lost one of its fairest and most illustrious sons. Cricket is today much the poorer, its finest strategist having departed ...

- Suhel Seth

BY THE TIME THIS PIECE appears in print, almost everything anyone knows would have been written about Arun Jaitley. From those who thought of him as a friend, to those who considered him to be a mentor or for the many who swore by his legal acumen and his political chutzpah.

For me, none of the above actually defined him: neither individually or as a composite whole. To me, Jaitley was and will remain, the quintessential humanist: the man who got off a 15-hour flight from New York and came straight to the prayer ceremony for my late father.

Or the one who would hold my father’s hands just when his knees were giving way and actually sacrifice an onshore excursion just so that he could keep my Dad company.

Many have rightfully spoken about his love for his staff; his respect for his juniors and the affection he showered on those who needed help.

But then again, there was more to him than that. Like celebrating his birthday and that of his children by feeding orphans: not by sending them food but by actually visiting them and spending long hours with them.

Jaitley suffered alone ...

Jaitley suffered alone if he had to, but he would do everything to help the world smile: that was his leitmotif. That was his birthmark: and the reason why he was this way was that under the bravado and the charm and the irresistible wit lay a deeply sensitive human being who was soft to the core.