TT Funtoosh

You were always an iconic figure in our family. There were jokes and stories of plots and investments, of your friends in Finland, and the nightclubs and bicycle rides in the cold. There were women who wanted to marry you, but you never settled for any of them. I saw you on a cooking show on TV once, and I believe you won a microwave on it!
I remember once we came home after school to bari ammi’s, starving, and you treated us to Pizza Hut – a big treat back in the late 1990s. Once we hid your cigarettes in the drawing room porcelain box and then bribed them back in exchange for Walls ice cream. You were so generous with us; we wondered why everyone in the family claimed you were stingy. Is it because you ironed your own clothes or cooked from time to time?

I was one of the last people to meet you. You had tea and kababs in my lounge a few weeks ago, wearing your plum blazer. Your booming voice, fanciful stories and unconvincing vows to finally settle down will always remain with us. We will remember you with fond memories, and apologize that our matchmaking skills failed miserably for the past two decades. I hope you meet your perfect match in heaven. Untimely and difficult to digest, the fateful morning phone call was yours this time. I can’t believe I’m writing about you in the past tense already. But I hope you rest in Peace.