My Dear Friend Carl, My Affectionate Brother...

My dear friend Carl, my affectionate brother Sudhahota, on this most auspicious occasion in your life, my heart is prayerfully invoking the divine presence of my esteemed brother-friend, Bill Lewis, to shower his choicest blessings from Heaven upon his beloved son, Carl.

Today we are singing and dancing in the ecstasy-boat steered by the world's proudest mother, Evelyn Lewis. Carl, to your affection-flooded mother I bow in deepest gratitude. I must also offer my joy and thanks to your oneness-heart-sister, the star athlete Carol, and to your two untiringly self-giving brothers, Mack and Cleve.

Carl, Sudhahota, your own fondness-creation-child, Inside Track is before long going to be a perfect rival of your athletic summits. Inside Track is your literary journey's glorious start. The fascinating story of your life's experiences will abundantly inspire athletes throughout the length and breadth of the world and expedite their success-progress-dream-fulfilment.

Dear Jeffrey Marx, O helper, coordinator and co-author of the treasure Inside Track, to the literary genius in you I offer my literary mind's genuine appreciation and my aspiring heart's soulful admiration.

Carl, Sudhahota, by nature you are extremely tender-hearted. But when dire necessity demands, you become not only faster than the fastest (which is your forte) but also stronger than the strongest — an iron will-soul. We, your dear friends, unreservedly admire your sleeplessly burning hunger-cry for the universal justice-light, especially in the sports arena.

Your compassionate heart encompasses us all. I offer a radiant example. My running speed is synonymous with turtle-speed. I take an unthinkably long 20 seconds to cover the short distance of 100 metres. You are the world's fastest human being. And what do you do? You affectionately, compassionately, enthusiastically and one-pointedly teach me how to run faster. And one striking experience will never be deleted from the tablet of my heart. Two years ago I made an absurd request to you to walk with me 100 metres. I would run my fastest and you would be allowed only to walk. As usual, you immediately complied with my request. Alas, my sad defeat was the result. Again, quite recently in New York you kindly instructed me on how to develop better speed by improving my hand movements. Sudhahota, to me you are nothing other than a self-sacrificing life.

And now I would like to declare an undeniable truth to the world at large: nothing is beyond your capacity. As was the case with Napoleon Bonaparte, the word "impossibility" is not to be found in your dictionary. The entire world is amazed at your astounding athletic capacities, but you just smilingly tell the world, "I stopped surprising myself a long time ago."

Narada, Narada, Narada! May the supreme musician-singer of India's hoary past bless us all here today. I salute my own Narada, the 20th century's Narada Michael Walden, the unique musician-producer, the most prestigious Emmy and Grammy award winner. I also offer my heart's deepest love and gratitude to Narada's better half, Anukampa, the embodiment of compassion limitless and a most accomplished Indian dancer. Both Narada and Anukampa brought you, Sudhahota — the infinite in you, the immortal in you — to me seven years ago. Now every day in the small hours of the morning my heart and I lovingly, soulfully and speedily send our gratitude-blossoms to you three: Sudhahota, Narada, Anukampa.

Finally, Sudhahota, unparalleled sacrificer of immortality's Nectar-Delight, I and all those who sincerely, proudly and unconditionally love you shall always remain faithful to you while you are soaring high, higher, highest to your pinnacle-heights in the firmament of Eternity's Consciousness, Infinity's Oneness and Immortality's Fulness — to the ever-increasing nectar-delight of your soul-bird.