India, Aug. 17 -- Lord Meghnad Desai and his wife, Kishwar, were sitting in the first row when, on April 29 this year, my latest book, Echoes of Eternity: A Journey through Indian Thought from the Rigveda to the Present, was launched. Meghnad looked in fine fettle, avidly following the ensuing discussion between Nitin Gadkari, Shashi Tharoor, Shoma Choudhary, and I. After the event, Kishwar and he were very keen that my wife and I join them for a drink, but we could stay only briefly. The next day, we heard he had been admitted to hospital. One never knows in life what the next moment will bring. But Meghnad's passing on July 29 at the age of 85 brought back memories of over two decades. My wife and I were witnesses when Kishwar and he were married at the Marlborough registration office in London in 2004. After the registers were signed, I can never forget how Meghnad pulled out a small pouch from his pocket. It contained sindoor, and he took a pinch and put it in the parting of Kishwar's hair. This public acknowledgement of his cultural roots surprised me, because this was the same man who told me that when he left India at the age of 21 to do his doctorate at the University of Pennsylvania, he felt "no special wrench, and thought to myself that at last my Indian chapter is behind me". He taught at the University of California in Berkeley, before moving to teach at London School of Economics (LSE). I remember in February 2005, when I was posted in London as the director of The Nehru Centre, we were at their home for dinner, and in the book-lined living room, he spoke at length - while twirling his glass of red wine - about his life's journey. "I did not see myself as an Indian," he said. "I married an Englishwoman. We had three children. Nor did I come across racism. I gave up my Indian passport in 1976. In fact, even before, in 1971, I had joined the Labour Party (of which he was the chairperson from 1986 to 1992). In 1995, when I was made a member of the House of Lords, I made it clear that I did not want to be a community leader or the spokesperson of the Gujaratis. I am British." But was he? The truth is there are four things you cannot leave behind at immigration - religion, language, colour and culture. For all his denials, Meghnad was more Indian than he was willing to admit. That is why ultimately, he emotionally returned to India when he married Kishwar Ahluwalia. I've known Kishwar for much longer, before she met Meghnad. She was then working in a publishing firm, and editing his book on the iconic actor Dilip Kumar. As she laughingly admits, Meghnad fell head over heels in love with her, overwhelming her with champagne and flowers, until she accepted, even though, given the age gap, and the fact that from her previous marriage she had two children, she was initially reluctant. Marriage did not reduce Meghnad's unabashed and happy rotundity, but I seem to recall that - like some latter-day Desdemona - Lady Kishwar Desai did persuade him to slightly prune his trademark halo of white hair. They were happily married for 21 years. Over the years, through innumerable interactions, I realised that under his easy-going demeanour, Meghnad had a razor-sharp mind. As professor-emeritus at the LSE, and as Lord Desai, he contributed significantly to the public discourse both in India and Britain on economics and politics. He wrote several scholarly books, including two on Marxian economics, established the Centre for the Study of Global Governance at LSE in 1992, and was conferred the Padma Bhushan in 2008. Meghnad and Kishwar were a much-loved part of Delhi's social circle, and divided their time between London and Delhi, and Goa where they had bought a home. For me, the great thing about Meghnad was that he was a well-informed and civilised conversationalist, from whom you always learnt something. And, of course, he was a loyal friend, who will be deeply missed. My deepest condolences to Kishwar....