My father walked with kings yet had the common touch, Khushwant's son Rahul says

He went the way he always wanted to go: Peacefully without suffering and with his mental faculties all intact. In fact, as was his habit every morning, he was doing his usual newspaper crossword puzzle, when he felt tired and lay down on his bed. He did not get up again.

My sister called the doctor at about noon. He checked him and told us that he had passed away, probably from a cardiac arrest. He had breathing problems for the last couple of days and was wheezing, for which he was taking a nasal spray. However, as he did every evening on the dot of seven, he had his Patiala peg of single malt whisky on Wednesday. He also ate his favourite golden fried prawns and then went to sleep at 8pm.

On February 2, he had celebrated his 99th birthday. It was meant only for "family" but a couple of dozen close friends of his turned up. Among them was L K Advani, a man he had criticized strongly several times, primarily over his role in the destruction of the Babri Masjid. Yet, Advani remained an admirer.

How will he be remembered ? I believe for his award-winning novel, "Train to Pakistan", based on his firsthand experience of the Partition, and his two-volume definitive "History of the Sikhs" . But he became a national figure when he took over the editorship of the Illustrated Weekly of India. From a circulation of just 60,000 he took it to 450,000, while pioneering a new kind of journalism. M J Akbar and Bachi Karkaria were among the many journalists he nurtured.

My father was never far from controversy. His support for Indira and Sanjay Gandhi during the Emergency was widely criticized (he later fell out with Indira, as he did with Maneka Gandhi).

When Operation Bluestar took place, my father returned his Padma Bhushan in protest (he was later awarded the Padma Vibhushan). He wrote and spoke from his heart, which is why he was trusted and admired - and reviled.

He also loved to puncture inflated egos and felt we took ourselves too seriously. His sense of humour endeared him to millions and his jokebooks were huge bestsellers.

Once, the SGPC, the highest authority of the Sikhs, wrote formally to him to stop carrying "Sikh" jokes of the Santa Banta variety. He sent them a short reply on a post card: "Go to hell". He did not hear from them again.

He disliked rituals and made fun of superstition and astrology. "Work is worship , worship is not work," he liked to say. He also hated fundamentalism of all kinds, of his own religion, Sikhism (though he was proud to call himself a Sikh), but also of Islam and Hinduism . He felt the growth of religious fundamentalism was the main challenge facing India.

One of his passions was furthering Indo-Pakistan friendship and anybody coming from Pakistan was welcome. He was, above all, a great communicator. As the Kipling poem goes, he could walk with kings and yet had the common touch.