Alvida Prashanth Sheorey

 Prahsanth Sheorey was one of the gentlest people I knew. Unassuming to a fault, I have never seen him angry or emotional. There was always a genial smile on his face and his entire demeanor instantly put the environment in a peaceful mode. Prashanth also loved the small things in life.

Prashanth Sheorey

But there was so much more to him that I never really discovered. He was intelligent - more than the normal intelligence we assign to people - because I think he knew what he wanted and made peace with that. 

I first met him in the 1990s, when Shobha took me along to her cousin Chitra's house for lunch one day from college. Tall. handsome, someone who makes you instantly comfortable (as opposed to many people who try to make you feel uncomfortable). My take on this is - the more secure a person is the more comfortable he makes you feel, the less secure a person is, the more uncomfortable he makes you feel! By that standard, he was immensely secure in his space.

Chitra and Prashanth

Prashanth had some interesting family history in the North of India - Madhya Pradesh or UP. His ancestors had property there and there was some conspiracies that happened and they lost that land - he told me that story once. Never asked him more about that! His father was a journalist if I remember right and they lived in King Kothi. Prashanth did his early education in Vivek Vardhini School ad college and loved his childhood in Hyderabad. He would happily recount the days they would go to Sangeet theatre late at night to watch movies, the many movies they watched etc.

Slowly the responsibilities of being an adult fell upon him. His father had started a press and Prashanth ran it - Everest Printers - right on the Kothi Main Road as you go towards Naya Pul. For years, decades he ran the press. He had a fixed routine - home to work, back for lunch, a nap. back to work, back home at 9. 

Their home at Basant Talkies was a lovely home with a welcoming vibe. Chitra and Prashanth, their young son Varun. We watched Varun grow up into a fine, handsome boy until tragedy struck. Varun contracted an autoimmune illness and for no apparent reason, we lost him just like that. Losing a twenty year old son, an only son, can be devastating, even to listen to, and one can only imagine what Chitra and Prashanth went through. But they bore it, survived it.

Chitra would come home those days to take care of Anjali who was just born and she did that until Anjali was five or six perhaps. It was a huge help, a welcome sight to see Chitra coming home with Anjali. Prashanth loved Anjali and would always have this amused, loving look on his face when he spoke to her.

Prashanth took solace in his spiritual guru - the Ramchandra Misison - of which he was an ardent follower. Many a visit he would make for their gatherings. He also said he communicated through a preceptor with Varun's soul - he said he was ok and in a better place and they should not worry about him. Prashanth made his peace there. His life became more and more spiritual. He even shared one book with me on the Mission. I need to complete it. 

One interesting thing was how Prashanth, through sheer will power (and Chitra's help) and changing his lifestyle, cured himself of diabetes. One could see him enjoying the many Whatsapp forwards of his friends. Nothing flustered him much, he had no strong attachments, or opinions. Long as the world was happy and harmonious, he was fine.

From there to shutting down the press, moving to Pune, robbed us of having an address in Kachiguda to go to. We have many fond memories there - lunches, dinners, movies followed by biryani etc. We went on trips together - Nagarjuna Sagar, Girivan, Shrivardhan.

For someone who took care of himself so well it was a surprise to hear that Prashanth had moved on after feeling uneasy for a short while, a few days ago. He had had an angiogram, a stent was put in place to clear a block and he seemed to be recovering when he decided to leave. As peacefully and without troubling anyone as he would have wanted to perhaps.

If one can get that peace in Prashanth's eyes, his acceptance and contentment with his life, one can call oneself successful. He must have been a monk in his previous life, and lived like one too - no alcohol, no meat, no vices at all. The perfect guy to take home to and marry one would say - and surely Chitra would endorse this.

Alvida Prashanth. Until we meet again somewhere, someplace. My journey has been quietly but greatly enhanced with your presence. And each time we pass by Everest Printers or go past Basant talkies, it will not be without a twinge and a fond memory in my heart.