Touched By An Angel

There are a few rare moments in life when something that once felt elusive — an idea just out of reach, hidden in the fog — suddenly takes shape. It clicks into place with clarity, aligning perfectly with your inner compass, your morals, and your worldview. Often, this moment of recognition is triggered by a well-crafted phrase that distills the essence of something greater — something you’ve long felt but struggled to express. Then comes that phrase, that insight, and suddenly, everything is in focus.

Suku’s writing gave me those moments.

Sukumar Ramanathan — Suku, to all his friends — was an absolute joy to be around. He had

Suku had titled this selfie "May the fourth be with you."

one of those infectious smiles: wide, bright, and full of warmth. When he laughed — often loud and wholehearted — you couldn’t help but laugh along, whether in anticipation of a clever joke or an amazing anecdote pulled from nowhere.

He was a passionate traveler, always in pursuit of new experiences and deeper understanding. Where others merely glanced, Suku saw layers. He uncovered meaning in the mundane, breathing life into what others overlooked.

I still marvel at his writing about his travels through Israel and Jordan, back in 2020, particularly his account of crossing the border at Aqaba, steeped in history. In a private reflection, he shared how deeply struck he was after listening to two days of narrative from an Israeli guide, only to then hear the Jordanian perspective — a version of the same events that didn’t align on a single point.

He wrote to me, "Both guides were nothing if not opinionated. The Israeli guide, even though strongly Zionist, was supportive of a two-state solution. But he said that their Arab neighbors wanted nothing less than the complete expulsion of the Jewish people, so he saw it as unworkable. The Jordanian guide agreed. He refused to even use the word Israeli. Instead, he said the Occupiers. And he thought the Occupation went all the way back to the Crusades. Which was actually hearkening back to a time later than the Israeli Guide, who believed the land was a Jewish birthright going back to Moses and the Exodus. I was fascinated by how the grievances on both sides encompassed millennia. And it is deeply personal (just like Partition has been to some of my Indian friends). The US has such a short history in comparison that it makes me think we are delusional to think that the Kuwait war (or the more recent campaigns in Iraq or Afghanistan) are going to establish a permanent peace. The West thinks in terms of years, the East in centuries and millennia.

That moment illuminated to him (and me) the entrenched nature of the conflict, rooted in divergent historical narratives that had long since outlived their relevance. It was a powerful, private realization — one he put into words with characteristic clarity.

I also enjoyed his passion for March Madness, the annual college basketball tournament that fully engaged him every chance he got. On a memorable night in March 2022, during the last game of the regular season, the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill won against its arch-rival, Duke University. I cheered his team's success, and what made the moment so sweet was that it was also the final regular season game for Hall of Fame coach Mike Krzyzewski. As we discussed this event, he said, "I have tried hard to explain that fervor to my wife (who still doesn't understand why I go MIA at Tournament Time), but it is a lost cause." Only those of us who have lived through the highs and lows of following a team can truly relate to the fervor that seems to engulf us.

I had often talked to him about writing more and how I had enjoyed his writing. He told me he has heard that from others as well, and that he was gearing up for that with more disciplined work, dedicating a time of day to sit down and write. There are many topics he wrote about, but I will share three of his writings, in particular, that capture the true essence of who Suku was:

1. His philosophy on customer service, shaped by a surprising experience with a company called Luxe: Why I am praising a company that damaged my car.

2. A standout review of the book Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, full of insight and reflection: Far From the Road.

3. He wrote this article back in college at our shared alma mater. During my time there, I got to know him and eventually recruited him to take over as editor of a campus publication we both wrote for. The piece below offers a window into his early voice as a writer:

In many ways, encountering Suku — through his words, his laughter, or simply his presence — felt like being touched by an angel. He had a way of opening your eyes to new perspectives, not by preaching, but by gently guiding you to see what was always there, just waiting to be understood. His insights didn’t just inform — they transformed. And like the rarest angels, he left behind a quiet, lasting echo in the hearts of those who knew him.