n Memory of Rajeev Motwani (Sept 25 2009):
We take our work lives very seriously. We fret over meetings, toil over presentations, and meet revenue targets; and we give those moments of stress and angst the most importance.
On the other hemisphere of our chaotic lives, we experience millions of personal interactions. We hang out with friends, go on a date, and kiss our “goodbyes”; and we take those moments of intimacy and happiness completely for granted.
The irony of it all is that if that job were to disappear, we would mourn for a day and move on, hardly changed by the event. But if any of those personal moments were to disappear, we would carry that loss to the end of our existence.
My moments together with Rajeev had the casual air we often develop with those friends with whom we plan to grow older. Asha and Rajeev and my husband Rajat and I chose to have children in our 40s, and promised to stay young to see them through adulthood. Our interactions with one another reflected our plans -– walking around in a park watching our kids play, having a business meeting at home or at a university café with our children in tow, catching up with one another in various parts of the world, partying in lobby bars well after our kids fell asleep, dropping in on each other to enjoy a casual meal at home, and the list goes on.
And Rajeev always orchestrated from behind the scenes so that the rest of us had the best time possible. He often baby-sat while Asha and I went out for a party. He always made sure that the best wine was there when we sat together for even the most informal meal. And he took care of people’s ideas too.
When I took on the new avtar of being a cultural entrepreneur, a profession my husband lovingly calls a negative cash flow business. Rajeev was always there to support. He had a passion for supporting the education of the girl child, for music. for intellectually stimulating conversations. And TED conference became a place where we enjoyed hanging out together. When I took on co-hosting of TED in India, Rajeev got really involved and would constantly send me suggestions of speakers, musicians, topics. And we are 38 days away from TEDIndia and we are celebrating it in memory of Rajeev and am committed to make this a legacy that Rajeev would be proud of. And I know that he would be there with me giving me all the moral support I need.
So, I want to end my talk today with poem from “Gitanjali” by Tagore and I think that this is what Rajeev would have said of his farewell if he were today.
“I was not aware of the moment when I first crossed the threshold of this life.
What was the power that made me open out into this vast mystery like a bud in the forest at midnight!
When in the morning I looked upon the light I felt in a moment that I was no stranger in this world, that the inscrutable without name and form had taken me in its arms in the form of my own mother.
Even so, in death the same unknown will appear as ever known to me. And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.
The child cries out when from the right breast the mother takes it away, in the very next moment to find in the left one its consolation”.
“When I go from hence let this be my parting word, that what I have seen is unsurpassable.
I have tasted of the hidden honey of this lotus that expands on the ocean of light, and thus am I blessed---let this be my parting word.
In this playhouse of infinite forms I have had my play and here have I caught sight of him that is formless.
My whole body and my limbs have thrilled with his touch who is beyond touch; and if the end comes here, let it come---let this be my parting word”.