Himanshu Rajnikant Pandya
Himanshu Rajnikant Pandya, age 60, passed away peacefully surrounded by family and friends on Thursday, October 23rd, in Sugarland, Texas. Himanshu, or “Chu/Chuey” was born on March 14, 1965, in his familial hometown of Lunawada, Gujarat.
At an early age, Himanshu immigrated with his father to Jersey City, New Jersey, where he grew up around a large Indian-American community and completed his early education. He moved to Houston as a teenager and helped with raising his brothers, all while holding down odd jobs and attending classes at the University of Houston.
He married Hemangini Pandya in 1995, in India, and in 2001 had his first son. Within the next two years, they bought their first home in Missouri City, Texas, and he brought his in-laws from India to live with them. He completed his degree and settled into a career in software management. In 2008, they had their second son, and the family moved into a larger home in the following years. He took immense joy in raising his children, cooking, traveling regularly with his family and friends, and maintaining his ever-growing landscape and plants. His love for cooking ultimately evolved into a service at Chinmaya Mission, Houston. He took care of his father until his father’s passing in 2022 and managed the family’s affairs forthwith.
His career spanned a wide variety of jobs; however, his passion for managing and working with people shone through in the latter half of his professional life, where he built teams and engaged with customers in a variety of senior roles. His lively and sociable attitude, the life and bartender of any party, ensured that his wide-ranging friendships, from childhood, early adulthood, and settled life, remained in touch with him throughout.
He is preceded in death by his father, Rajnikant Pandya.
He is survived by his mother, Kokila Pandya. His wife, Hemangini Pandya. His sons, Kedar and Shivoham Pandya. His brothers, Maulik and Hemang Pandya, and his mother-in-law, Gunavanti Acharya.
Livestream the service:
Farewell to a Friend
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It is a bitter truth that Himanshu Pandya left us with so much youth still ahead of him. Yet, in a strange way, there is solace in the timing of his passing.
Himanshu was everything to everyone. He was the helping hand who could fix almost anything around the house. He could change the oil in your car, replace its wheels, climb into attics to install fiber-optic cables, or even set up a bidet all by himself. He could mend a fence gate or craft a meditation table for Hemangini to reflect upon life.
At the Chinmaya mission, he could match Gaurang Uncle’s soul food with his own delicacies, leaving sadhakas wondering which food was bringing them closer to bliss.
He was clear and kind in conversation, transparent in friendship, yet charmingly opaque and mysterious at a poker table.
He was a dutiful son who took care of his parents, He was big brother to Moulik and Hemang. He was the partner who complemented Hema perfectly, a fatherly friend who guided Kedar and Shivoham, and a quiet touchstone for anyone who even briefly crossed his path.
Among all the remarkable qualities he possessed, one stands above the rest:
The courage to face death—and accept it as a friend.
In his final two months, Himanshu’s health declined swiftly. He became but a shadow of the vibrant man we knew. Yet even then, he remained lucid, resolute, and at peace. He understood that prolonging life at the cost of dignity was not the path he wished to follow. To be confined, dependent on others for every movement, was not the life he desired.
So, he chose to leave on his own terms—and had the extraordinary strength to help his family understand and honor that choice.
To Hema, Kedar, and little Shivoham, your bravery in standing by him, in love and in pain, is beyond words. You walked beside him even when the path became unbearably hard.
Himanshu said his goodbyes one by one. Until his final days, his mind was clear, his spirit unwavering. He knew what was coming and met it with quiet acceptance.
He died a hero—unafraid, unbroken, radiant in his resolve.
Salute to a great human being, and salute to Hema for the immense courage she has shown.
Himanshu remains with us in his subtle form until the final rites are done until you, Hema and kids help release him from the bonds of this life, freeing him to begin anew with other souls whose lives he will surely enrich.
Hemangini, cry now my dear. Do not hold back. Crying is not weakness. It is not merely grief. It is love overflowing-his love, absorbed and now released. It tells Himanshu that his life had meaning; that he fulfilled his duty as son, husband, and father.
It assures him that he can move forward with peace, to begin another journey as another Himanshu, bringing bliss to others once again.
So cry, my dear. Cry to your heart’s content. Here and now, while Himanshu still looks upon us. Then rise with courage and purpose, and carry his spirit onward in your life.
May the family find peace and return to life gently, carrying the poignancy of his passing not as a burden but as a quiet strength. Let their grief be touched by the same grace and dignity with which Himanshu embraced his final journey.
Dear Himanshu—may we meet again, somewhere, sometime, in this vast continuum, my friend.
In loving Memory of Himanshu-
It’s hard to put into words what Himanshu meant to me. Having known him for the past 20 years, I can truly say he was one of the sweetest souls I’ve ever met. Always smiling, always ready to help anyone in need, he brought warmth and light wherever he went.
I’ll always cherish the countless memories we shared playing poker, laughing over lighthearted conversations , and just enjoying life in his easygoing company. Himanshu had a special way of making everyone around him feel cared for and valued.
He touched so many hearts with his kindness, and his spirit will live on in all of us who were lucky enough to know him. Himanshu, you will always be in our hearts.
Himanshu was a dear friend—always there when you needed him. He had a rare gift of being both lighthearted and serious, striking a balance that made him a joy to be around and someone you could always rely on. I will forever cherish the moments we spent laughing endlessly over the simplest things. Though his journey in this world has come to a heartbreaking close, his spirit will continue to live on in the hearts of all those he touched with his warmth and kindness.
Still With Us
You taught us laughter, kindness, light,
You showed us how to see.
And though you’ve gone beyond our sight,
You stay in memory.
The world feels warmer for your love,
The skies more deeply blue—
For even now, in all our hearts,
The best of us is you.
There are some friendships that feel larger than life — the kind that fill every room with laughter, every silence with comfort, and every day with a sense of belonging. Himanshu had that rare gift. He didn’t just live among us; He lifted us.
To know Himanshu was to know warmth — the kind that reaches right into your heart and reminds you that goodness still lives in the world. He celebrated life in all its colors, never holding back joy, kindness, or light. And in doing so, he created a community around him — one woven together by shared memories, shared love, and the simple things.
Even now, that spirit doesn’t fade. It continues in the way we care for one another, in the stories we tell, and in the courage we find to keep smiling through our tears. The beauty of a soul like Himanshu’s is that it doesn’t end. It becomes part of everyone it touched.
We remember not only the loss of a friend, family member, neighbor, part of our community, but the extraordinary gift of having known the laughter that still echoes, the kindness that still inspires, and the love that will never leave us.
My friend is not here anymore.
He was the one I counted on anytime I was stuck.
When I forgot an anniversary and did not know what to get my wife.
When the front-door wouldn’t stop squeaking and WD-40 was not doing anything.
When the car was making a rattling noise and I had no time for the mechanic.
He was the first number on my phone after my wife and kids. And his was the number I called the most. The one I could depend on for anything at any time of the day or night, the guy I called when I was stuck and needed a steady hand. He was the one who never hesitated to respond.
My best friend.
We spent hours sweating, covered with insulation dust, trying to pull a stupid electric cable 20 feet, in attic-space we could hardly even crawl in. We cursed and swore as we tried to dig a straight 3ft deep hole for the concrete base to install the heavy basketball hoop. We could have of course paid someone to do it. But no; for us, this was manly work. Work we did to show we were men.
He taught me to change the brake pads on my Explorer, and the story of the wheel coming off on my drive home, almost killing me, was worth the months we took to complete the job.
He had us climbing a rickety scaffolding to affix a decorative panel around his ceiling fan; both of us scared of heights, holding on to the rusty supports for dear life, somehow finishing the job without falling down.
Each of our “weekend projects” rarely lasted less than three weekends. Each became a story which outlived the task, and embellished each time in its telling.
He was there for me, as I tripped on the icy rocks, in freezing rain, sleet and snow, at 18,000 feet on our Mount Kailash trek, never hesitating to help, never complaining about his own repaired hip and knees.
He held his own on our weekly hoops game; giving up almost a foot in height, but making up for him in sheer strength built up through rigorous P-10 routines, through determination and hustle.
He was a man’s man.
There wasn’t a single dream I had of growing old which did not include me calling him for help when I was stuck. The plan was always to grow old together, two old men with rickety knees and hunched backs, leaning on our walkers, arguing about why the flush was leaking.
Who will I call now when the sink is not draining and Draino is of no use?
As he told me about his diagnosis, I was blissfully convinced he will come through it, for he was always the strong one. Only as his chiseled muscles wore down rapidly did I realize the great pain he was going through, and the toll that was taking on him.
He still smiled weakly at my bad jokes and DIY-stories, but his eyes would tell a different story. Even IronMan can only handle so much pain before the mind gives in, and my friend’s body seemed to have reached that limit.
I will miss my dearest friend beyond what words will convey. We will surely meet again my friend, however long and however many janams we go through, for I cannot think of any other to call as my best friend.
A tribute to Himanshu
A kind heart
A precious friend
Always cheerful
Hilarious with his quips
A quick wit
Helpful, eager to lend a hand
A live wire in any gathering
Quietly so! That was Himanshu
I learnt some of these things
From him!
Enjoying his company
Cannot think of party in Sienna without him
Several memorable moments
Leaving me puzzled, sad
And in grief
A deep loss
A void that remains
As he leaves us behind
Enriching and touching
All of our lives
Memories will linger
Forever!
With unbound love
My dear friend
May your soul
Rest in peace!!
Words cannot fathom
The feeling of this loss
An unfinished dialog
Of a beautiful conversation
Not simply done!
Finding it very hard to say good bye!!
Didn’t have enough
Of dear Himanshu’s company
Looks like god wanted his presence
In heaven
To cheer some up there
Really bad!
Only to leave all of us
So soon,so sad!!
What Himanshu meant to me –
H- Helpful , whether a friend or it was CMH, or anyone for that matter, he was ever helpful
Humble – His humility stood out as uncommon
I- Independent thinker, had a learnt opinion or view which was valuable, practical
M- Multi faceted, talented personality
A-Action oriented, Active, emphatic and energetic
N -Never say never to a friend in need, was always a friend indeed
S – Spontaneous, quick witted, Strong, may the family derive that strength to move forward
H – Happy and Humorous
U – Unafraid, unfettered fearless
May his soul rest in peace!
Symphony of Laughter
The car driving down silver genesis galore,
Windows rolled down so that visuals can be seen,
Whom do you see but a man with his mustache, playing music and just swaying in its beats .
The kitchen is alive with smells of yummy food , you know it’s yummy as the food is presented beautifully . Dare you mess the presentation.
The cut , the color combo and the type of sauce used , my oh my that had to be best, no compromises there . You had anything broken or needed to be fixed ? Just walk down to street to his garage you will find tools and so much more
. He planted this rose plant which he was so proud of ! I remember him saying look at those blooming , like a kid who just got the latest gadget .
Out of the blue , comes this laugh sort of like a ripple of a chuckle and then big bursts of joy.
There is this , white kitchen towel , on one shoulder maybe a little dirty but that look of pure joy on his face .
Hey your man , runs in a white vest , does he not have any clothes ? I was asked so normally , I laughed at that image itched .
You could not, but laugh when he cracked his one liners , his infinite wisdom of knowledge, which you were sure you knew .
There was no pretend , no make believe . You the real raw you .
Pink polo shirts were a trend even before people knew . What about the Hawaiian shirt ? Did I mention that was blue ?
Sarcastic one liners flowed as conversation and yet you came back for more .
That teddy bear aura wrapped in a macho man , yes that’s what is pure gold .
Taken from us , way too soon.
That’s the mystery , left unsolved .
The massage asked , that bear laugh , the view point given , yes that’s what draws you in for more .
Take care my brother , till we meet again , you will be missed. Live life on your terms ! Do what makes you happy.
Every genesis around will remind me of music playing loudly and visuals of a man whose impact was profound.