Angad Brijnanan

Angad Brijnanan, also known as Jairam, was born on March 29, 1936 in 64 Village, Corentyne
Berbice, Guyana. His was the tenth of eleven children born to Barsatie and Brijnanan Singh.
Angad married the love of his life, Khanlaw Sookchan, known as Drow, on March 26, 1959. They
were married for 60 years until her death on September 26, 2019. They emigrated from
Guyana, with their six children, to New York on October 13, 1981. He worked in maintenance
for the Studio Museum in Harlem for over 20 years. His passions in life surrounded spending
memorable times with his family, friends, gardening, and living life to the fullest.
Angad’s life can be defined by his hard work and devotion to his family. His love, provision, and
sacrifice for his family were demonstrated in countless ways. He was loved by many and he
showed love to many in life. He will be missed for all the days to come, but his legacy of love
will not be forgotten, but will live on in the hearts and memories of those who were blessed to
know him and love him. Angad was a devoted husband, father, uncle, grandfather, great
grandfather, and friend.
Angad is survived by his children, Kameel, Baby, Davo, Sunita, Babita, Suresh; grandchildren,
Danny, Darlene, Judy, Julie, Justin; great-granddaughter, Riley, and countless nieces and
nephews. He was preceded in death by his beloved wife, Drow; brothers, Dharsan, Hansraj,
Peter,Cyril; sisters, Rupmin, Matyia, Ramday, Kala, Betty, Datie; and precious great-grandson
Liam.

HIS LIFE. HIS EULOGY

My Dad was a man of few words. When you spent time with him, you could always expect there
to be periods of silence. But this did not mean that he was distracted, or busy doing something else, my
father was simply the type of man who knew the importance of listening to others, and thoughtfully
choosing the words he would share to advise or comfort them. While he might have appeared distant to
an outsider, I know that he loved nothing more in this world than having his family gathered around him
at home, for he told me more times than I can count, “You must come around the house soon, must
come and pay us a visit.”
Papa didn’t care very much about gifts, parties, or going out to fancy restaurants, he just wanted
his family by his side, sharing Mama’s curry and roti in the kitchen, or spending a summer afternoon
lazing on the swing in the backyard while chicken and corn roasted on the grill. He liked to listen to 80’s
pop songs play softly on the stereo and sit back smiling as he watched the children run back and forth
beneath the kerayla vines, listening to all of our chatter and laughter. Sometimes he would close his
eyes and doze a little in the warm shade of the garage, and I would stop what I was doing, mildly
nervous, and call to him, “Dad, are you okay there?” My Dad would open his eyes, smile that
mischievous smile, and say, “Yeah, alright man.... everything is good.”
My Dad was never a big fan of the phone. He used it more in the last few years as his children
spread out further and their lives became busier with jobs, children and life stuff that made it harder to
find time to spend with him. There were occasions when Dad called me and I was busy at work, and he
would say, “Ok Sunita, go back to work now, call me later please,” and quickly hang up, not wanting to
be a bother. He was never a bother, of course, although I regret that in my youth, I may have selfishly
thought sometimes that he was. Through his example, over the years, my father taught all of us about
love, family, friendship, honesty and hard work. Papa was a very hard worker, and he instilled in all his
children a very strong work ethic and a belief that any job worth doing was a job worth doing well. In
Guyana he was a successful farmer with the assistance of my brother Devo. When times grew hard in
our country, he managed to move us all to America, with the help of his beloved brother-in-law, Dyal,
my uncle, whom we lost just days ago and will forever remember and be grateful to.
Dad started a new life in New York, working long hours at low paying jobs and always looking
forward. He got a good job doing maintenance at The Studio Museum in Harlem, and through his
perseverance, courage, intelligence and the incredible support of his loving wife Drow, managed to
purchase two homes in the Bronx that his growing family filled with laughter and love. He did this in
order to provide a safe and happy home for all of us as well as a strong financial support. He wanted the
very best for his entire family.
I recall that while I was in high school, I had a part-time job working at Easy Pickins on 34th street,
a retail clothing store which closed late many nights. My Dad faithfully estimated the time I would be
arriving back in the Bronx and was always waiting there at the station when I got off the D train to walk
me safely home. Papa recently told me, beaming with pride, that when he retired from The Studio
Museum, on his last day, everyone came out of their offices to convey their congratulations, well wishes,
and to thank him for his years of kindness and hard work.
Only six short months ago, our dearest Mom died. This was incredibly difficult for all of us, but it
hit Dad especially hard. Drow was the love of his life he told us, his forever sweetheart. He missed her
tremendously and seemed lost without her. I like to think that they are together now and happy again at
last.

My Dad was a man of few words. The words he spoke though, and more importantly, the life he
lived, told us everything we needed to know. Whenever he saw us, each and every one of us, his eyes lit
up, he smiled that mischievous smile, and you could tell that his heart was full of love.
We love you daddy, and today, we wait, to walk you safely home.

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