Amidst the turmoil that has been the last few months, the move out of Brussels went off rather quietly. And while the commute has doubled, this one affords us idyllic views of green farmlands and serene lakes and cottages as opposed to endless rows of concrete, stained from years of neglect and misuse. Oh! What I wouldn't give for a house by a lake. Still, it is nice to live in a small Belgian town that is taken over by partying students every Thursday night. One can even make peace with the goods train that passes by under one's bedroom bedroom window, unceremoniously shaking one out of a very deserved slumber. Yes, one can make peace given that that alternative is so much worse. And just because the emotional duress, physical strain and sleeplessness were not enough and I am nothing if not a sucker for pain - I head to Italy this weekend. Bologna to be exact. The city that has just been struck by an earthquake measuring 5.8 on the Richter scale, second quake in 2 weeks, the earlier one measured six and caused that much more damage. To a country still reeling from the shock.

Of all the eulogies that I thought I might write, I never imagined that I would be writing this one, for this man, now. I guess the mortality of family is not something one can comprehend. Even more so when it is untimely. Today we mourn the passing away of Shyamu Kaka, just when would like to be celebrating our lives with him. What do I write about someone who has taken me from crayons to perfumes. The words and thoughts are disjointed and those that eventually surface sound hollow and shallow. I know I will write, I want to and I need to. But for now it is Goodbye for good to a man who towered over us both literally and figuratively. A giant of man. A man of excellent taste and razor sharp wit. A gentle man. In all senses of the word. Our Santa Claus, the Consigliere to our Don Corleone. A man with joy in his heart, calm in his countenance and a one-liner at his lips! A patient man, a kind man. We were enriched, for you were our family and we are that much poorer for having you no more. I can feel you pat me on the back, like you always did and said 'eh! come on!' and share a one-liner with the Almighty up there. I know you are smiling down on us like you always did. Things will never be the same. They shouldn't be. R.I.P Kaka. See you on the other side!