Live for today, plan for tomorrow, party tonight said a poster on the door of my uncle’s home in Bangalore. My first memories of Sekar Mama are that of a rock-star uncle who rode motorcycles and played the guitar. My first ever ride was on his Jawa, the iconic bike of yesteryears. He wasn’t scared to put a toddler on his motorcycle tank and ride away. His skill with anything mechanical was stuff of legends I heard from my mom and other relations. He started his career in HR and rose to head the HR division for his company and when the world of computing exploded in the 90s he seamlessly self taught himself to program and transitioned to the world of software, when he was well into his middle age. Continuous learning was his middle name much before the world even started mentioning how important it is to keep re-skilling ourselves. He was far too busy learning about everything new and didn’t care much for the usual social obligations of tamilian functions and rituals,  although he made it to all the important events I can recollect. I think the little bone of wanting to ride motorcycles comes from him in me, although I don’t think I even come close to his practical mindedness. His entire home was a workshop of creativity. Right from designing hanging pots, to drive in garages to software code, it seemed there was nothing he couldn’t dabble with. We didn’t see him as much as we did the other relatives. He would turn up when you least expected and not when you most. But such is genius. They don’t conform to the norm and when they go you simply wish you had held them more. The truth is that even in choosing when they go, they give no warning at all. RIP Sekhar Mama!