SEVERAL DEATHS, within a relatively short time, of persons whom I cared for and/or admired have made me conscious of my own mortality, and of the finality of the Grim Reaper’s scythe. These persons were larger-than-life figures, and all these deaths could have been considered untimely. They certainly caused much pain to a great many people, especially young children left behind. World music icon, Michael Jackson, shocked the world by his unexpected passing, the conclusive cause of which yet cannot be determined.

But Michael Jackson, who was shunned by many during his lifetime and called the cruelest names — including ‘Wacko Jacko’ for his unorthodox lifestyle — has had his heart shredded by a lifetime of painful betrayals, first by an allegedly abusive father who would not let him be a child, then by friends, employees, advisers, persons, including children, whom he had mentored, and John Public.

Most entertainers are talented, but a minute few are gifted. Michael Jackson was a genius. History records that extraordinarily gifted persons are eccentric, and have idiosyncrasies that rank them out of the normal.

This does not make them bad or evil, merely different, with different approaches to life peculiar to their own individualistic drives. They are also most often ultra-sensitive and easily-hurt.

The fact that they do not easily relate to what constitutes normal behaviour often opens them to ridicule by persons who cannot aspire to their genius, and who sometimes go to ridiculous lengths to drag them down to their level.

These traits in Michael were compounded by the hothouse atmosphere in which he existed almost all of his life, without ever being allowed a childhood where he could bond with ‘normal’ children.

He also grew up in a society where ‘white’ spelt perfection, and he aspired to perfection — in looks and art. He achieved the latter with his relentless drive and dedication, but, sadly, the former eluded him. The irony is that Michael was extremely good-looking — in his natural state, that is.

But his genius did him in. Those who envied his rare talent sought to demolish him. But they could not fault his art, so they used other means — ridicule being the primary one, and, sensitive soul that Michael was, he shriveled in agony, to the extent where he withdrew into a shell, and behind a mask whenever he went into public places.

The only place that he could be himself was when he was lost in his art, or while interacting with children, because Michael was the ultimate child, always seeking his lost childhood in the company of children, and his poignant explanation when he was accused of the most heinous of crimes by opportunistic parents — child molestation — that he was Peter Pan, should have proclaimed his innocence to the discerning, given his history.

He created ‘Neverland’ so that he, as the perennial child, Peter Pan, could find happiness, innocent happiness, with lost children like himself. His bedroom was not an evil place but a fun room where they could all romp together.

The innocence of ‘Neverland’, and the joy he had created within its confines, were forever destroyed by the evil miasma of shame brought, not by his actions, but by evil accusations created to generate easy wealth for opportunistic parents.

Michael, who had been thoroughly betrayed by the adults in his life, and who thought that children were the best companions because they lacked guile, was absolutely devastated by the public disgrace, vilification, and the recognition that his vulnerability would forever be exploited; so he withdrew into a shell and procreated his own children, with whom he built his own world of emotional security and love, a commodity which his sensitive heart was over-abundantly full of.

The poignant moment when his daughter broke down and cried out to her most loving daddy defined the real Michael Jackson. And while one hopes this will silence the vicious rumour-mongers, human nature is such as to make this an unrealistic expectation.

Shri Prakash Gossai, an icon in the Hindu world, and a very wonderful human being, also passed away too young. Shri Prakash was beloved all across the globe, and his musical renderings of the texts of Tulsidas’s ‘Ramcharitmanaas’ touched the hearts of millions worldwide, and have made him an eternal figure in the landscape of the world of Hinduism.

But Prakashji was also a human being; a very humble human being, who was set upon the right path by his very gifted father, who was also devoted to his religion.

But there were also others who influenced his life; and he acknowledged this with great simplicity, which always hallmarked his humanity.

The Mukesh Singing Competition provided him the opportunity of expanding his horizons beyond Guyana, but he himself said that had Pt. Reepu Daman Persaud not encouraged him, he would not have gone on stage that night. He called Pt. Reep ‘Baba’, showing him great respect always.

This was a man who abhorred controversy, and always advocated unity, yet today, persons purporting to be close to him are ridiculing the one for whom he himself showed reverence, and are creating divisions, ostensibly on his behalf.

Pt. Reepu Daman Persaud has contributed immeasurably to the Hindu religion, the Indian culture, and the development of society, and anyone who seeks to disrespect him, especially taking the name of Prakashji, is doing a disservice to the religion they both loved and served well. They are also dishonouring the memory of Prakashji. That Hindus are guilty of this is beyond understanding, because by dragging our Hindu leaders into controversy through rumour-mongering and character assassination, is bringing our great religion into disrepute, and disrespecting the tenets of our sacred texts.

Anthony Amres, former CEO of Readymix Concrete Ltd, died on July 12. Eulogising him, one brother said that he had lived 153 years in his 53 years of existence on earth.

I first met Tony 15 years ago during P & P Insurance Brokers tenth anniversary celebrations. We got along like a house on fire, and he became my best friend.

There is no-one I know who is as full of life as Tony was. He would drop everything and take off for ‘the Interior’ to camp, hunt or fish, and go on safaris.

Toni jet-skied; he raced cars and motorcycles; and you had to have a strong heart when you got into a vehicle with him.

He was also full of mischief and I recall him once displaying his trademark quirky sense of humour when he told guests at the wedding of a soul brother of his, Mark Harris, that the wedding cake was made of ready-mix concrete.

Eulogising his big brother, Mario Amres recalled when, as a little boy, he bemusedly looked on as ‘big-brother’, Tony, and his friends strapped on backpacks to go trekking across South America, returning months later. Tony Amres was the ultimate adventurer, always eager to discover new horizons … and to breach new frontiers.

Tony’s sister related that Tony’s last words to her on seeing tears running down her face as she realised he was slipping away was: “Are you okay?”

That was typical Tony. He was a rough diamond who had a heart of gold, and the people he loved always came first with him.

But he also looked after anyone he felt needed help. His staff was more family than employees, and though he would cuss them out when he was provoked, he was also there for them in their times of need.

I recall one of his drivers being remanded for years on a murder charge. Tony believed implicitly in his innocence and continued paying his salary to his wife, so that his family would not want during all the years of the driver’s incarceration, until he was freed and could return to his job.

The True Vision Organisation of Albouystown had approached Dr. Jagan for help. Vic Insanally was Dr. Jagan’s PR adviser, and the PPP/C had inherited a devastated nation, with no resources, so Vic delegated me to approach businessmen for help.

I reached out to Tony and he, Moses Nagamootoo, who was then Minister of Local Government, and I brainstormed to help vulnerable communities such as Albouystown, Agricola, etcetera. We pulled Commissioner Laurie Lewis, who was already running a successful rehabilitation programme for children in Tiger Bay, into the programme. He delegated then Asst Commissioner, Henry Greene, who proved very helpful to the various exercises we undertook.

Tony bullied all his associates (he never took no for an answer, but he was so rudely charming, that few persons ever told him no, in any case) and he got Eddie Vieira to load a ‘Hymac’ on a pontoon to clear the Sussex Street outfall. Toolsie Persaud Ltd cleared a stretch of the Sussex Street Canal, and then Minister Nagamootoo sent a backhoe to clear the rest of the canal, which had been so silted up that one could have walked over it.

We then approached Works Minister, Tony Xavier, who provided us with tools, and paid residents to clear the internal drains. It was then we discovered the fantastic infrastructure and architecture of Albouystown’s drainage systems.

Culture Minister Gail Teixeira had provided Mayor Green with quite a large sum to build a play/football field for the youths of Albouystown. This never fructified. The Independence Boulevard was, at that time, one long stretch of a garbage dump.

Minister Xavier provided a Hymac and Tony and his friends provided trucks and they cleaned up the Boulevard. Then sports-loving Tony, at his own expense, filled the Boulevard with 48 huge dump-trucks of sand and then blocked off several streets for one massive football tournament in Albouystown.

For the very first time, Albouystown had its very own recreational venue, and they opted to hold their own Mashramani celebrations with their families at that location, to which Mrs. Jagan was a much-welcomed and much-honoured visitor. Ever-helpful Bernice Mansell, Lennox John, and Leon Davis provided the food and beverages for that and many other locations.

When I approached Tony to get his friends involved in an empowerment programme, where youths from so-called ghetto communities could be gainfully-employed while simultaneously being taught life-skills, he readily agreed.

Today, some of Tony’s most accomplished employees are from the Agricola, Albouystown and other such communities, because employees stay with Tony.

Chronicle’s driver drove me past the Independence Boulevard in Albouystown recently, and I saw some young men playing a game of football, and I thought that they had no idea that this was a legacy of Tony Amres.

Tony is dead, but many persons are flourishing because of his gift of caring. Hopefully, many generations to come will continue to divert their energies to clean sports, and maybe they will get their jumpstart from Tony’s legacy.

I will forever miss my friend, who always saw merit in my wild ideas, and who gave me carte blanche with his resources to concretise those ideas.

There are wonderful persons with great hearts who reconfigure circumstances to change the world into a better place for others, and there are others whose pastime is character assassination of persons better than they are.

But the icons are in the arms of God, and no mere mortal can destroy those whom the Lord has blessed, and that is why their time on earth is so short, because they only come for purposes which the average man cannot aspire to.