The world was a poorer place for me on hearing that a great friend, well-wisher and fine human being PVK, as P.V. Krishnamoorthy was fondly known, had left this world (at the ripe old age of 98) in the early hours of October 17th morning in Chennai. A deep sadness came over me when the person who for me, amongst all my contacts, was most deserving of one of the highest of State awards, had died quietly, with no all-India recognition - even while lesser talents are being decorated all the time. Less than a month ago in Chennai, I called on him to have an engaging hour's conversation, or see him playing on his Keyboard- something I had never failed to do in all the years he had settled in Chennai, in a flat very close to my daughter's house. As his loving daughter-in-law guided me to his bedroom, this last time, I saw a frail PVK, still recovering from an unfortunate fall he had. He spoke to me softly - happy I was there. I left soon on seeing that he was in no shape to engage in any sort of tete a tete.
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