Kumaran Naidu with his wife, Fiona, and sons, Sudarshan, at the back, and Maheshan.
Image: Supplied
Kumaran and I met in 1999 while working at Absa Bank in Gale Street in Durban. At the time, I had a degree in English, and was studying for an LLB.
Kumaran was fascinated by this and asked to pick my brain about a story idea he had. I asked him to write it down and send it to me to read. He was furious when I sent it back with corrections. It started a tradition of me being his sternest critic, and us talking about story ideas that affected the Indian diaspora.
Kumaran was absolutely convinced that Indian stories needed to be told. He did lots of research on the technical aspects of movie-making, and watched every behind-the-scenes footage he could get. He was passionate about film-making, and could do everything from camera work to directing and editing. It was a matter of pride for him, and represented his deep passion for the film-making process.
Kumaran idolised George Lucas, who pioneered modern digital film-making. It was George who inspired Kumaran to believe that it was possible to shoot films without a Hollywood crew. In the early days, he struggled to get any of the traditional cinemas to believe that a market existed for Indian local cinema. He persevered and eventually made the film, printed DVDs and distributed his product himself.
Broken Promises became a runaway hit, and an industry was born. His movies launched the careers of many local actors, but Kumaran was especially passionate about giving inexperienced actors an opportunity to appear on screen. He believed strongly in providing opportunities, especially as it had been denied to him when he tried to break into film-making.
While Kumaran was a well-known film-maker to his family (his children and I), he was a family man. He loved having us on set with him, and we joked about being free labour, but we treasured those memories which are especially poignant given that we will never again experience that.
My husband loved watching films as much as he enjoyed making them, and we often watched films as a family with movie-style popcorn. He also loved his sons and dogs. I often told him that while everyone knew him as a film-maker, we knew him as our tea maker. He always made tea for the entire family before school and work. Kumaran was adamant that we all had sustenance before we left for our day.
Kumaran was a husband who loved leaving me small tokens of gratitude. When he became ill, we travelled to hospital quite frequently. He said that at least his illness meant we got to spend more time together, and he often brought me a yoghurt from the hospital. He battled his illness with fierce courage, and was a source of joy to the medical personnel who adored his jokes.
I wish to express my love for Kumaran, my husband of 23 years. We had many adventures. We made films together, packed up our cars and moved to Johannesburg, had two wonderful sons, and had Jack Russells invade our home. It is the small things that I will miss the most: early morning walks, time spent in the garden and Sunday breakfast as a family.
Our sons and I love you and miss you, but we will be proud of the legacy you left behind. It is a legacy that blazed a trail for others to follow, and embodies your pioneering spirit. We hope that you will make waves on your next adventure.
Fiona Naidu