My father, Y. Raghu Raghunathan, came from India to the U.S. in 1963, followed soon after by my mother Sita. Dad enjoyed a substantial career as a pharmaceutical chemist, but he drew satisfaction from a simple life among family and friends, never allowing professional demands to overshadow his devotion to loved ones. Modest, compassionate, and ardently egalitarian, he was careful not to take anything too seriously, especially himself. He embraced his own ordinariness because it connected him to everyone else; it made him no better or worse than his neighbor, no more or less deserving of friendship or kindness than any of his fellow human beings. He showed us how to live with dignity, compassion, grace, and boundless love. His last piece of advice to me: Go slow. Several weeks after his passing, I happened upon a recording of Shostakovichs 24 Preludes and Fugues, opus 87. I couldnt understand why at the time, but the sixteenth prelude and fugue took hold of me and would not let go. I completely immersed myself in that piece for ten days, until it became a mystical conduit for something else: in this semi-trance state I produced a prelude and fugue of my own, in prayer (orison) and in praise (upastuti). It shadows Shostakovichs form, but it somehow expresses my fathers unhurried, loving spirit. Ive come to believe that he sent me this piece as a blessing. I hope you feel his presence in it as I do. Vijay Iyer