My uncle, Rubyshankar Mathur 1927-2013 (below right sitting with my father to the left), died about a week ago.
An ex-discipline sergeant in the army, ex-headmaster, ex-peanut farmer (in that order), I remember my uncle particularly well because we both shared, in equal measure, both creativity and eccentricity.
When I was small, I once helped him cover his house in plastic sheeting to stop a tropical rain storm flooding his house. Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect and collected water that, of course, completely inundated the building.
On another occasion, when I was older, we had a long, head-spinning discussion about time-travel, paradoxes, loops and alternate universes in the public garden outside Quatre-Bornes library.
Then, a few days ago, on the 3rd May 2013 at Pailles, there was a bus accident. Ten people were killed, including my uncle’s daughter, and forty injured on their way to Port Louis from Vacoas.
Life is transient and unpredictable, but memories are priceless. Remember those who have passed in stories. Write them down, tell them to friends and strangers alike.