Dear Editor,
Glowing and deserving tributes were paid to the late Lakhram ‘Mike’ Singh (of Mike’s Pharmacy and softball fame) at the funeral service held on Thursday last. One of the persons eulogizing Mike said that he had three loves – his family, business and cricket.
Mike had a fourth love. He was passionate about mathematics, so much so that after leaving school he pursued a degree in mathematics at the University of Guyana (UG). He excelled in his studies and emerged among the top maths graduates of his cohort.
Mike’s role as a businessman had already been preordained. He had no intention of pursuing a career in mathematics. He enrolled for the degree simply because of his great love of the subject.
That love was ignited during his student days at the Christ Church Secondary School, Mike’s alma mater. It was while he was a student there that I first met him. He was a classmate of my older cousin, Compton Da Silva, who introduced me to him.
Mike and Compton were buddy friends. Compton was gutted upon learning of Mike’s passing.
Mike had nicknamed him Karl Marx (for reasons I do not know) and because I was the younger cousin, he referred to me as Karl Marx jnr. For many years, Mike and his brothers would invite us every Christmas Eve night to a feast at the old Kwang Chow roof garden restaurant.
When I was studying for A’ level mathematics, I would go to Mike for help if I was stumped by any mathematical question. Never once was he too busy to assist, and never once, in the ensuing years, did Mike request any favour from me. He was a genuine and sincere friend.
A great deal has been mentioned about Mike’s contribution to and his love for cricket. But not much has been said about how this passion emerged.
When Mike was in his first year at university, he organized a small group of us, including Compton, his brother Bobby and his friend Shaum Outar, to engage in ‘scrubby’ matches in the National Park. We would play softball cricket for hours on Sundays, the only free day that Mike permitted himself.
We would play among ourselves or include or challenge persons and teams who were playing at the same time in the park. Mike enjoyed those sessions. But he was extremely disciplined and would never play during the school term. His studies came first. Mike was determined to do well in mathematics. I always felt that his love for the subject was greater than his love for cricket. Decades after he graduated, Mike could reel off from memory some of the longer mathematical formulae.
When we first started to play cricket in the National Park, Mike bowled what appeared to be innocuous leg-spin. But he spun the ball prodigiously, and on the rough turf of the National Park he was quite a handful.
Mike honed that leg spin into an art form. I saw him many years later playing at the Everest Sports Club and he had flattened the trajectory of his delivery and consistently bowled wicket-to-wicket. On that occasion, he scalped the prize wicket of Shivnarine Chanderpaul. Mike was elated.
Years later, he got animated when I recalled that incident, rhetorically exclaiming, “You remember that, right! You remember that!” It was one of the few times he permitted himself any vanity.
Mike was humble and modest. He preferred to be out of the limelight. His exploits on and off the field however have catapulted him into the public spotlight as a pioneer of softball cricket, a highly successful businessman and a philanthropist. But for all the success Mike achieved, he remained unpretentious.
Mike’s death came as a shock. I and my cousin, Compton, grieve the passing of Mike. We are eternally grateful that we knew him and proud that he was our friend.
Yours faithfully,
William Cox
