Surjit Singh Pannu (1 Sep 1939 - 28 Apr 2026)

In loving memory of Surjit Singh Pannu who sadly passed away on 28th April 2026, aged 86.

Dad was a quiet man. Not the kind of quiet that comes from distance, but the kind that comes from depth. He was thoughtful, gentle, and lived a simple, unassuming life. There was nothing flamboyant about him—he didn’t need grand gestures or loud words. His presence spoke for him.
He loved the movies and music of old Bollywood, especially Raj Kapoor. Those songs of romance and longing suited him perfectly, because at his core he was a romantic—shy, soft-hearted, and sentimental, even though he carried a tough exterior. I knew better.
Dad’s life was a journey across continents and challenges. He grew up and was educated in India before moving to Kenya, where he married my mum . Later, circumstances demanded that he uproot everything and start anew in the UK. It couldn’t have been easy: a young family, a foreign country, uncertainty around every corner. But in true Dad fashion, he simply got on with it. Quietly. Steadily. With a sense of duty and devotion that never wavered.
His  life revolved around one thing—his family. He didn’t need recognition or praise; his love was shown in the everyday routines, the sacrifices, the reliability that we all came to depend on. That was who he was.
In his final years, Dad faced a terrible disease with extraordinary bravery. He battled quietly, stoically—never complaining, always trying to shield us from the worst of it. I wish, with all my heart, that I could have taken his pain away from him. I hope that the moments we shared, the time spent together, brought him even a little comfort. Those days were precious to me, and I will carry them forever.
His courage, his gentleness, and his unassuming nature are qualities I hope will live on in me and in my family.

Dad enjoyed life’s simple comforts—like his pint on a Friday—and it’s those memories that will stay with us forever.