I have a big smile on my face just because I now think about him. And a certain sweet ache at his passing like I felt in my childhood when a couple of parrots that adopted our home, gave us so much joy and one day flew away unannounced. He was indeed a wild, cheerful and loving parrot, true to his name. Once he along with a relative stayed at my apartment in Santa Clara. When I prepared my bedroom and asked them to sleep there, he asked me to give them sleeping bags instead. He said he always prefers to sleep on the floor. The next morning, I saw his younger relative struggling to stuff the sleeping bag into its cover. Popat uncle was quietly watching. I took uncle's bag and softly told him that the way to quickly put a sleeping bag into its cover is to not fold it before stuffing it but to start from an end and just keep stuffing. Pre-folding increases the air pockets and makes it more difficult to stuff than direct stuffing though the latter method looks clumsy. I showed him how and he completed stuffing his bag and then repeated my instruction to his relative. I was under 30 then and I had never had an experience of an older person willing to be humble and take instructions from someone much younger until then. I remember him shaking his head and saying, "I have used so many sleeping bags but I did not know this. There is never and end to learning something new even about things you think you know." I shared the dorm with him during the first G3 at ESI and remember so many wonderful interactions with him. Bows to the direction he flew away.