Our beloved Veerji and Bhainjee will always be in our hearts. I have fond memories from my childhood spending as much time as I could with them along with Bawa and Mona.

From days at Lodhi Road, Veerji having a Vespa scooter and will taking us to India gate during Summer evenings from ice cream and rides. Also remember hot summer days with Veerji making calls on Greeting card business and making other usual trips to Bangla Sahib. Start or end of day will always be with cha (tea) and Veerji lovingly used me to equate me to “cha walla mundu” and do “cuppy cuppy".

Veer ji was also keen on technology and on my trips to India we will spend time on discussing engineering education, new gadgets (iPAQ) and a personal desktop he was going to purchase. In our first home in Port Elgin, Ontario, Veerji installed wall coverings to an 1/8” accuracy as he was so meticulous and in his attention to detail.

His work ethic was a role model to lot of people around him. He was a very spiritual person and contented person. Once in a while he used a share some poetry.

He is remembered by all of my colleagues from Port Elgin ( being a small Community).

I will always cherish memories of Veerji and Bhainjee. They will always remain with us in our hearts.

Thanks Bawa and Mona for creating this website.
Harbans Virjee and my sister Gurjit were and always will be close to my heart. We had a wonderful relationship since their marriage and it blossomed over the years.
Virjee loved his Maharaj Ji and was true devotee. We liked each other more after his first visit to Canada.
They were present here in 1996 one of the happiest day of my life.
Your physical presence is missed however I feel you are always around. Love you dearly.
Double Cheers

Dearest Nanaji,

I was always amazed by your selflessness and kind nature and can only hope to achieve half of all you did. But most of all, I’d like to thank you for helping me become myself.

I vividly remember once while spending the day at your and naniji’s house in kalkaji, Anmol started teasing me and caused me to cry. You took me to the side and said “don’t let him make you cry. You’re giving him what he wants by doing that, just try not to react. Your tears aren’t worth it”. While I didn’t understand the depth of your words as a child, your advice really helped me learn an important guiding principle for life- there will always be people trying to pull you down or negatively impact you. As long as you don’t give them the time of day and keep betting on yourself, things will work out just fine.

I will miss you so very dearly

Dear Uncle,
I have always thought of you as a man of few words but your kind and gentle heart spoke volumes to people around you.

They say a parent’s success is measured by how their children talk about them to others. Over the years, Mona has shared so many of her fond memories of you from her childhood. Your love and kindness have influenced her greatly as a person, for that, I am very grateful. You will be greatly missed.

Dear Papa

The day Surinder and I were married you took me aside and told me 2 things - which have stayed with me throughout my life and proved to be very helpful.

First, you said that any word that is spoken cannot be taken back. It is like that elephant’s tusk - if when broken, cannot be fixed back.

Second, you said that it does not matter what you say, but rather what matters is what the other person hears. This one was a bit too deep for me at the time you said this to me, but over the years I realised the wisdom of your words. Every person who you speak with filters what one is saying based on their pre conceived notions and your relationship with them.

You were such a wonderful role model for everyone - with your simple way of living and unconditional love. I will forever miss you.

Goodbye my dear Papa!

He was there- when I was a baby to hold me, love me, give me all and more. Then he had to be away as his job required for him to travel to provide for his family. But he was always there. 

He was there on June 1, 1982- dressed up to go to work on his Vespa Scooter. And he was back in an hour with a dabba of laddoos. He was proud of me for cracking IIT JEE. That was a big day for me and he was there. 

He was there. He was on top of the moon planning my wedding. I was a bit uncomfortable with the list of invitees, events, dishes- he had made his lists. I said lets scale it down Papa, we don’t need to spend so much. So he went about the day sulking. I had to give in. His daughter was getting married and that was that.

And again he was there. I got my dream job- to work at Dupont in Richmond. Anmol was not quite two. And Pawan was still in the middle of his PhD and could not leave Denver. Papa had retired. He packed his bags and came to Richmond to help take care of little Anmol. He changed Anmol’s diapers, took him to day-care, picked him up from day-care, took him to the park, and he labeled my masala bottles and cooked dinner for me. He did not believe in gender roles. But when it came to making roties he raised his hands. That was my only duty.

He was there to watch little Samik dance Bhangra looking like his nanaji with a painted moustache.

My love for maths and engineering drawing came from watching him bent over on his drawing board with T-Square, set squares and drafter making survey maps. He was so good at it and did it with so much enjoyment.
He was in awe of technology and was always excited to lay his hands on it- SLR camera, transistor radio, PC, Magicjack to make calls to US. He was always ahead of times. I guess Anmol gets this trait from his Nanaji.

He is gone now. Or is he? Nah, I know he will always be there for me, watching over me.

He taught me many things- to walk, to read and write, trigonometry, and on and on, but most importantly he taught me to be there for the ones you love.

Thank you Papa! Love you all the way to the moon and back infinite number of times. Promise to be there for me always!

Papa you were my first teacher and the one person I have always looked up to. You were my measuring stick: your simplicity, patience and spirituality are a few of the qualities that I can describe in words, there are others that I don’t have words for. And now you are gone .... and there is this profound sorrow.
My early childhood memories of you include us going for evening walks, I would hold both yours and mummy’s hand and swing between both of you as we walked. These were our summer evening walks to the “ganne ka rus” waala’s rehdee at the “chaar block” bus stop in Lodi Colony. Another memory is of going to the dispensary to get vaccinations, the smell of that dispensary, the green fence, and me clutching your finger so tight ... ending in a scream and in the safety of your embrace as you carried me out of there. Another one is of the time I was probably around three, and I used to like to give you hugs.... you used to call me your little “bhalu” (bear). I remember that, and I remember your voice... in fact I can hear it every time I recite rehraas sahib. We all used to sit in your camp and you would recite it and we followed along, and so it is etched in my memory, in your voice.
I remember your fondness for your Voigtlander camera and your love of photography, I would be the subject .... I think I was around 7 years old then. Always ready with a dancing pose, and you nicknamed me “nacho” then. I started liking poetry because you shared your taste of Urdu poetry with me: Faiz’s nazm sometimes, and sometimes Ghalib too. You were my Urdu dictionary!
I also remember that I never got to say to you that I love you or that I’m sorry for the heartaches I have caused you. But then, as I have raised my children, I have realized that life extends that latitude to children... parents always know it, they don’t need to hear it. That words sometimes carve hollowness into existant feelings. You taught me the beauty of silence, and of quiet contemplation. I will miss reading to you in the evenings. You were the best Papa!!