Remembering Maninder Singh Kang
(18.5.1963-4.2.2013) By Rajesh Sharma I visualize him watching his own burning corpse and laughing a philosopher’s laughter. “Oye pandatā , this Kang was a dog’s tail of a man. Look, he is poking even the flames to laugh. What a struggle the wind and the fire are waging over his body. And look at the rain, it refuses to stop. His death seems to have released an excess of the five bhoots , making nature go berserk.” Listening to him, I try to make sense of his bizarre inner geography. “He’ll be impossible to replace. It’s such a loss,” he adds in an altogether different mood. Maninder had this ability to move effortlessly between gaiety and gravity. He probably had found the thread that connects the extremes. I met him some twenty years ago when he arrived to teach in the college where I was already teaching. That college, in Hoshiarpur, had then a Principal who liked to take himself very seriously. And he
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