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Virender (Vic) Sethi gedeactivereerd

27 Jun - 02 Jun

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Our dearest Virender Kumar Sethi passed away, just before his 90th birthday, on 2nd June 2020 in Gurguan,India. A beloved Husband, Dad and Grandad, he was affectionately a very special " Virender Bhaiya " to three generations of the extended family of sisters, brothers, nephews, nieces, grand nephews, grandnieces and all their friends. He lived life on his terms, full of fun, love and caring. His Cremation took place on 3rd June. With fond and loving memories Meera Virmani Sethi Rohit and Veronica Sethi Punam and Prit Chahal Gagan and Geetika Virmani Vishal and Ayesha Virmani Gabriella, Florence, Priya, Rahul, Uday, Natasha, Fisher, Manorama

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01-03 2021 10:20 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

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08-07 2020 18:46 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

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09-06 2020 14:52 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

Priya Chahal

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09-06 2020 14:53 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

Priya Chahal

Priya Chahal

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Our Grandad/Nanu wrote his own obituary. The grandchildren would like to share this with you: I wrote my obituary in 2011 thinking I will be on the lap of my journey at 85. It was 8years later, I am still around but many who could share my thoughts, my jokes are not here any more and as such I have to write it again. I have requested not to have any picture hanging on the wall as all present will have a different picture of me; good, bad, crooked, kind, evil, selfish, Vicki Baba, etc; and why should I shatter their allusion. Death is not the opposite of life, but a part of it." Death is rarely spoken about in our homes. I wonder why. Especially when each one of us knows that death has to come, has to strike. It’s inevitable. What a fallacy, that we keep looking at the shortcoming of the living, around us and with us but after death, start on a journey to look for all that is angelic in him or about him “Here lies one who spared neither man nor God Waste not your tears on him, he was a sod confusing one & all, preforming the role of Narad Muni Thank the Lord he is dead, this son of a gun.”(KS) I believe in these lines of Tennyson: “Sunset and evening star, And had one clear call for me And may there be no moaning of the bar, When I put out to sea... Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness or farewell,

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06-06 2020 22:08 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

Rahul Chahal

Rahul Chahal

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I tend to resent the idea of rooting a person’s value solely on what they meant to you. I fear it sounds overly self indulgent and self centred but I guess you can only talk about someone honestly in how you as an individual related to them. So I will take a selfish approach with the hope having sufficient conviction makes it permissible. I feel conviction in itself is an important lesson I took from Nanu, a man who exuded such a 38% proof divinity with a self assurance so profound that he could comfortably declare himself to ‘never actually eat meat, because the moment it enters my mouth it is blessed’. The most potent and recurrent emotion for myself is embarrassment, something which Nanu pushed me towards like . I think it is fair to say he was something of a social sledgehammer which is of course a wonderful characteristic to have, only until he comes for your sense of comfort, smashing it then peppers it atop a cold Bloody Mary. He would constantly force me to be social and speak to people. A refusal to let me stay in my shell but clawing it open and actively make me engage with other people. Such as demanding that I, the second born Chahal (first born son), serve drinks to swathes of people whose faces and names I never really knew (thank God for the Hindu hedge-betting of just saying Uncle and Aunty) was something I would dread before visiting his house. Every time we drove to Bramcote I would sit in the car with the uneasy discomfort that there would just be some stranger there he knew in the most hilariously tenuous way, expecting us all to get on. Mum would always say ‘I think it’s just us this time’. Cut to: an elderly couple he met at a garden centre sat smiling, bodies wholly ensconced by the plump pale cushions of the beloved conservatory. ‘Muuuuum- he’s doing it again’. The belief that everyone aged between 4-19 would become lifelong friends because we are all ‘children’ and youth would surely offer unity. All of these instances made my palms sweat, mouth dry and cower behind my parents. ‘Muuuuuum- he’s doing it again’. I think now, aged 22, my embarrassment is slowly subsiding and laundering a sense of clarity. Reading this back now it is obvious we see a deeply held value of community emerging. How wonderful must it be to believe that absolutely everyone could just get on? Reflecting upon every time I felt so awkward, unnerved and rattled by all these random people whose names I still do not know, what lingers is an attitude towards life and other human beings I have found myself striving towards. Despite the constant disagreements we had of what I took to be deeply questionable views, judging him by his actions over his words what becomes painfully clear is a relentlessly genuine love and care for humanity (excluding the Sally’s working in hospitality), which he may well have denied but it strikes me as true. It is a shame it has taken him passing for me to realise that but examining the memories I have of him only reaffirms this. Going to his house aged 9/10 and the fever dream recollection of him having fellow archeology students round for food and a chat. Having spent three years at uni now, ending up at a 70-something Indian man’s house in the suburbs for kebab’s, samosa’s and gin would be verging on a safeguarding issue, but of course when it was Nanu, it just is. It’s what he did. Once again breaking every social barrier and fostering a community, not just for him but for others to support themselves. Just knowing the life he lead really gives me a sense of perspective on how I can live mine and the risks that I must be prepared to take. I think most vitally I wish to cling and pursue his endeavour to constantly connect people and have enough faith in them to know they will get on.

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06-06 2020 18:39 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

Priya Chahal

Priya Chahal

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Dear Nanu, I am going to miss you so much. I am going to miss sitting in the living room with you disagreeing with all your controversial opinions. I am going to miss your amazing cooking and the chutney you made for your samosas and kebabs. I am going to miss your infectious laughter and how you managed to see the funny side in a lot of things. I am going to miss fixing your computer and teaching you how to use Netflix. I am going to miss how you always wanted to stay up to date with the latest technology and how me and dad normally had to help you with this. I am going to miss watching home movies with you of you, Nanima, my mum and Mamu growing up. I am going to miss watching TV with you and Meera auntie whilst drinking gin and lemonade (one of the best week’s I’ve had was when I stayed with you and Meera auntie whilst doing my teaching training course. I should have been stressed but I felt so chilled out watching Bollywood films with you and Meera auntie and learning how to cook). I am going to miss seeing you sitting in your computer room playing bridge for hours on end. I am going to miss seeing you exercise on that bike of yours. I am going to miss hanging out with you in your garden (I remember when you used to take me and Rahul down to pick veg from the greenhouse and how we (along with Gaby and Flo) used to spend hours playing outside and on the hammock). I am going to miss your “stories”. I am going to miss how sociable you were and all the big parties you threw in your garden. I am going to miss how you always pushed Rahul and I to be as sociable as you and to go and make friends with the next-door neighbours. I am going to miss going on all the legendary cruises and having the Sethi’s, Chahal’s, and Virmani’s all coming together. I am going to miss how you nagged at Rahul when he was not doing his job to serve drinks at dinner. I am going to miss how you fell asleep whilst playing Scrabble and Articulate last Christmas. I am going to miss the many nanu-isms like when you tried and failed to read a joke on the Christmas cracker. I am going to miss going to the pub with you and how you would make up names for the waiters and waitresses. I am going to miss how you would joke about only drinking on weekends now. I am going to miss your honesty. I am going to miss learning from you. I am going to miss how much you cared and loved all your family members. I love you so much, I hope you’re having a fun party with Nanima, and my grandma and grandad. Your granddaughter, Priya xxxxxx

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06-06 2020 02:05 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

SANDEEP KALRA

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I’m saddened to not be able to say goodbye to Vir uncle properly and give him the send-off he deserves. He was a larger than life character, the life and soul of all social events and generally great fun to be around. He was the epitome of a “rebel with no cause”, particularly when it came to religion and his debates with mum and Kaki aunty concerning their religious beliefs. He went so far as to sell himself as an alternative to Sai Baba and Brahma Baba and even asked people if they had heard of Viki Baba! Since I’ve known him I’ve always looked up to him and aspired to be like him. As a kid I remember him jetting off to some exotic destination, coming back to see us in his (VEC 2V) Jaguar, but most importantly being down to earth and always having the best stories to tell. As an adult I was proud of uncle and always tell people I come across at work about the eccentric older uncle in our family who went back to university in his 70’s and lives life to the fullest. He was of course famous for making the best kebabs, his love for gin and tonic and drinking copious quantities of alcohol whenever he got the chance. Speaking of which, he took us out to his favourite Indian pub/restaurant in Beeston just a few months ago. We had 4 pints of lager after which I had to stop, but uncle went on to have one more! After Kaki aunty passed away, he asked me (amongst others) if I would mind if he re-married – I’ve always felt honoured by that! I am grateful to have known uncle for so long and will look back with fondness at all the good memories I have growing up knowing him. God bless you “grand dad” and see you on the other side..

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04-06 2020 18:56 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

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03-06 2020 17:42 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

Gaby Sethi

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Grandad and Meera Aunty when they came to visit me in Phnom Penh, Cambodia in 2013. Here we are at the Foreign Correspondents Club on the riverfront.

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05-06 2020 19:06 Bekijk / Reageren (1)

Gaby Sethi

Gaby Sethi

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One of my earliest memories of Grandad was when Flo and I went to stay with him in Nottingham for the weekend whilst Mum and Dad were on a work trip. We must have been 6 or 7, maybe younger. Grandad took full advantage of the situation by immediately taking us to get our ears pierced (having been under strict instruction not to), and then he treated us to a McDonalds (again, under strict instruction not to) which made Flo sick in his burgundy Jaguar (with the infamous VEC 2V numberplate because he couldn't get his hands of 'V1C'). I actually can’t remember whether both of those things happened on the same weekend or if they were actually separate ‘incidents’ but Grandad never let the truth get in the way of a good story and so there's no reason to behave any differently now. Both memories still wonderfully represent Grandad’s character and unwillingness to do anything other than march to the beat of his own drum – and his refusal to accept he’d done anything wrong that weekend was definitely my first taste of the Sethi stubbornness. Over the years, I became more and more in awe of Grandad’s eccentricities. There are so many things I love about him: the fact that he used his (alleged) palm reading skills when travelling from India to the UK by ship for the first time so he’d have enough money when he arrived; that he so generously let Flo and I run wild around his warehouse in Nottingham when we were younger filling up bags of earrings, necklaces, scarves – anything we wanted; the fact that he went back to University in his 70s and held parties for the other students; that his recipe for green chutney included “any fruit lying about”; that he’d written his own autobiography which was “part fact, part fiction”. He was truly remarkable and one of a kind. It’s impossible to leave a proper tribute to Grandad, as all those who know him will understand. He was the life and soul of every social event and the heart of the family. I’m so pleased he knew he was going to be a great grandad and had given his blessing, but I’m devastated that he’ll never get the chance to experience it. It’s so difficult to not be together to remember his amazing life and share stories, but I know we will come together when we can to celebrate in a way that would make him proud – starting with a gin and tonic, and a lamb kebab.

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03-06 2020 16:58 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

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03-06 2020 16:57 Bekijk / Reageren (0)

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