 Thank you very much for giving me this opportunity. Like the previous speaker, I'm someone who actually had the privilege of knowing Ashok Mitra since my birth, actually. But I don't want to talk necessarily about my personal reminiscences today, because I think there is something more we all know that he was this extraordinary human being. I mean, I think the multifaceted nature that has been mentioned is absolutely correct. The fact that he combined so many very, very different and often contradictory attributes, his remarkable capacities in so many different areas of life, his very wide interests, all of these, are probably known to all of you here. But I think it's also, we just heard Pranam said that he wasn't a teacher. And he wasn't a teacher in an explicit way, but I think the way he lived his life at least has taught me some very, very important things about how to live. And I would just like to mention four of these things, which I think have been absolutely crucial in shaping how I feel a good life can be lived. First, I think it's very, very important. Ashokaka spoke truth to power. And he was never afraid of speaking this. I think some of this came out in what Paranjay said. And it was not just power in the conventional sense. Of course, we all know the very amazing writings in Calcutta Diary and others where he took on the state, he took on international capital, he took on local elites, all of that. But he also was capable of speaking power to those close to him. He was capable of speaking power to his own comrades, to his own colleagues, to people whom he was very close to, to his friends. And that takes a very particular kind of courage. I think very few of us have that courage where we are able to speak truth to even those who hold emotional power over us. And he had that capacity. He took on, as we all know, the government that he was a part of in West Bengal when he felt that they were doing something wrong. He took on the trustees of a trust that he was the founder member of, the EPW, when he felt that they were doing wrong things. He took on friends, some of whom, in fact, couldn't take it and couldn't handle the fact that didn't have the maturity to realize that he was saying it only out of a deep conviction and a deep integrity and not with any malice. I think the second thing I have learned from him is his complete absence of sectarianism. It's hard to believe because he was a man of such strong views that people thought he would be sectarian and rigid. You know, this famous statement, I'm not a Badriloak, I'm a communist, kept getting repeated. But in fact, that's a complete lie because he was both. He was very deeply, that was part of his essence. He was both Badriloak and communist in that sense. But the point is that despite having very strong views, he was never one to shut out other people because of those views. He was always willing to work with all kinds of people to get the results that he felt were necessary for a progressive, a more desirable future. And so he did not stop, shall we say, from joining hands with all kinds of people for what he felt were progressive causes. Whether when he was fighting against the TRIPS regime in the WTO as a Rajya Sabha member, whether he was getting together other finance ministers in the fight, the issue of center state relations, he was always willing to combine with others. He was always unwilling to create very strong sectarian divisions and say, I will not work with X or Y. Related to that, I think, is something about his personality, which is absolutely remarkable. And it is that there was a real absence of hierarchy in how he dealt with people. Well, OK, I shouldn't say there was an absence of hierarchy. He had a hierarchy in his own head, but it was a different hierarchy from the conventional kind. He didn't go by the hierarchies of age, status, experience, where you were in the power ladder. He had his own hierarchy of whom he thought were attractive, important, desirable people, which was based on his assessments of their intellect, their integrity, their being interesting. And because of that, he had such an amazing wealth of friends and acquaintances. And funny enough, I think almost everybody whom he came into contact with ended up thinking they have a special relationship with him. I see people in this room, I know, who have had special relationships with him from their childhood, just like I have. But I see many, many others in this room. And it went across generations. He was able to get deep, strong friendships with people from very different generations. As Poranjoy can mention, as our children can mention, he went down the line, he would correspond with all kinds of people on terms of equality. Because when he decided that somebody was worthy of his affection, his interest, his concern, he was not swayed by those conventional notions of distance and hierarchy. He had his own way of dealing with people, which I think was not just remarkable and special, but really worthy of being emulated. And finally, I would just like to mention it was a very long life, it was a very rich life, it was a very varied life. But most of all, it was a life where he never stopped. He just kept at it. He was so relentless in his commitment to keeping on doing things for the causes that he thought were important. Imagine a man who is already in his mid-80s who decides that he's going to start a new journal in Kolkata. And this is at a point where he's not just in his mid-80s, he's already losing his hearing, lost a lot of his eyesight, is very, very weak physically, was down to 30 kilos at the time of his death, but even then was about 38 kilos. So he was frail. But he decided that Bengal has to have a revival of its intellectual life. We have to do this with this new journal. And he was indefatigable, he was obsessive. He was the worst and most tyrannical of editors. He would be chasing authors. He would be getting after the sub-editors and copy editors. He would have the pieces read out to him and then get hysterical when he saw that there was a slight mistake and ring up immediately and say, fix it at once. He kept doing this till January, I think, or February this year. He was absolutely onto it. I think a month before he passed away, he was still so anxious to fight a legal case against GST because he felt he was so upset about the goods and services tax as a deeply centralizing thing that completely destroyed the kind of fiscal federalism he so deeply believed in. And he was, Prabhat, I can tell you, he was on our case. We have to get this thing going. Why are you sitting there doing nothing? Let us actually fight at least a legal case to prevent this from happening. So essentially what this tells me is that this inability to give up, it wasn't just a desire not to give up. It was a complete inability to give up. He would keep at it. And I think that ability, that intense commitment, that intense energy and passion, I think that's something if we can learn from him, if we want any progressive change in India, we have to learn that from him. Thank you.