Rest in Peace Meher Roy Chowdhury
Our dear friend Meher Roy Chowdhury left us yesterday after a four-year struggle with leukemia. He died due to an illness he developed following a bone marrow transplant last year.
He was the kindest and most humble person I’ve ever known. His curiosity was infinite, and he loved to share his thirst for knowledge with others. Over the years of hosting Epicenter, Meher built up a reputation for explaining difficult concepts with clarity and simplicity. I learned so much from him because of this.
Though we only met in person a handful of times, over the years, we spent countless hours chatting after wrapping up Epicenter recordings. We talked about crypto, technology, life... He was a careful listener and often helped me work through personal issues with simple, thoughtful guidance. He never cast judgment. That’s what I loved most about Meher.
In recent years, my wife and I were lucky to spend more time with Meher, his wife Kiran, and their son Zubin. We love them dearly and cherish every moment we spent together.
We visited them in January of this year after Meher's difficult recovery from the transplant. He was in good spirits and felt ready to sink his teeth into life again. He wanted to learn how to rollerblade, and I promised to teach him when he was fully recovered.
One of my fondest memories with the Roys is from our visit in 2023. That weekend, Zubin had been binge-watching black hole videos on YouTube. Sitting on his father's lap, he asked questions about singularities and event horizons. I watched in awe as a three-year-old tried to grasp the nature of black holes.
"Nothing can leave a black hole once it reaches the event horizon, except for something called Hawking radiation." Zubin turned to him and asked, "How does that work, Papa?" Meher instructed him to grab a pen and paper, and he began sketching concentric circles to illustrate the different parts of the black hole. Zubin followed intently until Hawking radiation came up again and he stared back, confused. Meher paused, looked down at his wide-eyed toddler, and said with a soft smile, “Okay Zubin, in two years I’ll explain Hawking radiation to you!”
Meher left a mark on everyone who knew him, and he will be deeply missed. Even in his illness, he rarely gave in to negativity or complaint. I'll carry his voice with me, reminding me to slow down, be thoughtful, and act with greater kindness and understanding.
Meher wanted to be cryopreserved, hopeful that future technology might one day allow for his reanimation. While I’m overwhelmed with sadness at his passing, the thought that people in the future may get to know this extraordinary person brings me great joy and comfort.
Meher, I promise to teach Zubin about Hawking radiation.
