Our story lit with borrowed powers
Rather, by what our spirits burned,
Embered in words, to us returned.
-Vikram Seth in An Equal Music
History repeats itself, after seven hundred years. Seven centuries ago, the Italian explorer Marco Polo took the Silk Road to China. He crossed rivers, marched across deserts and reached every destination he set out to reach.
The narrative of his travels runs into hundreds of pages. Both the journey and the narrative were remarkable feats. It was an age when modern day transport had not yet been invented. The path was fraught with dangers. The journey took its toll on even the most valiant souls.
But not much was known about their ventures. For the printing press was not in existence. And recording such journeys was so arduous a task that it was rendered impossible.
Nevertheless, Marco Polo’s exploits were so extraordinary and his stories so engaging, that the travelogue not only acquired form, it also became one of the most important perspectives of the Orient.
Times have changed since then. Huddled together in a craft, we breeze westwards, airborne. We flip through glossy magazines. And the moment the seat belt sign is turned off, we take out our laptops and type with furious keystrokes. Before long, the chronicle of our journey is on a blog, regaling many.
Times have changed. Or have they really? The rudiments remain the same. A burning desire to accomplish, an indomitable spirit, unbridled enthusiasm, camaraderie with fellow travelers all remain as the essential ingredients of any enterprise.
Tony, like his famed predecessor, brought all this and even more to us in less than seven months. For me it was the reenactment of an epic journey that took place seven hundred years ago.
I remember how mere months ago, Tony stepped in and helped us through every escalation. He was there to guide us when we needed him. He was there to fight for us when we struggled. He was there to reprimand us when we goofed up. For me personally, he has been mentor and friend, guide and confidant.
Tony, we will miss the thunderous energy, the signature anecdotes, the witticisms, the arguments, the deft manoeuvring in meetings and that acclaimed shoulder tap!
Even in your absence, you are there everywhere. As I walked down the stairs, a gust of wind opened the door. For a second, I stood disbelieving and thought you were round the corner, holding the door open.
But it was the trifling wind, a mere force of nature. You are so much more. It lacked your poise and I had to console myself that from now on, nobody will open the door and quip, “Age before beauty.”
I could write the story of our journey together. And it would fill many pages. But such stories are best written at the end of a journey. Ours is not quite over. This is a mere interlude. I am sure we will travel together again. And I hope you too will say, in your usual inimitable way, Non ti preoccupare. Torno subito. – Don’t worry. I will be right back.
