Here lies one who spared neither man nor God. Waste not your tears on him, he was a sod Writing nasty things he regarded as great fun Thank the Lord he is dead, this son of a gun.
This is an epitaph of Khushwant Singh that the genius once penned in his own words.
No wonder his initials were KS! No wonder! (If you’re an Indian, you’d know what I mean!)
Having read his obituaries closely, his reputation of being a womanizer and an alcoholic it seems were grossly exaggerated but something that he so cleverly kept fuelling for the entire course of his existence on Mother Earth. Well, he sure was someone who cared a damn for the political establishment or for that matter anyone as was pretty evident from his incredible unabashed writings.
While growing up, I had religiously read his weekly column With Malice Towards One and All and had a penchant for the many joke books that he never wrote himself but selected from public contributions, translated, and compiled into hilarious manuscripts that made my 3-day train rides to Kerala so much of fun.
I was a fan then and I would remain a fan forever of this daring writer who knew no boundaries. His kind of writing has always inspired me and still encourages me to write the kind of utter nonsense that I sometimes put here on my website. Though nowhere close to the quality of his genius self.
The ‘pen’tastic genius in Khushwant Singh has to be remembered for years to come. His is a fantastic tale of do what you love and not care two hoots about validation. I will never forget you Oh learned (read: wicked) sir!
Today is your birthday and no ordinary one either. You would have turned 100 today. So bad that they burnt you to ashes and not give you a quiet corner of a burial as you had wished for. Since you would therefore not be turning inside your grave, I would raise this toast of your favourite Tullamore DEW single malt Irish whisky with my reading audience and wrap up this tribute. Cheers!