Our Bureau
Wyckoff, NJ
When we try to sum up Lall Kwatra’s life, it’s hard to know where to begin—because his story didn’t begin with comfort or certainty. It began with survival, and it grew into something luminous.
Lall was a child of Partition. When India and Pakistan became two nations, he and his family were swept into the upheaval as refugees and endured what no family should ever have to endure. He lost family and friends—but that experience did not break him or make him bitter. Instead, it shaped him. It gave him a kind of steel—quiet, unshowy strength—and a deep tenderness for anyone who was vulnerable, displaced, or trying to find their footing in life. It gave him perspective, gratitude, and an unshakable drive to build a life larger than what history and circumstance tried to take from him.
Lall may have been small in stature, but he was truly larger than life. He led by example in everything he did, with a quiet confidence earned from a lifetime of charting his own course. He had a smile that made you feel instantly welcome—one that said more than words ever could.
And build he did: a life, a family, a home, a community, and a legacy.
An immigrant from India who arrived during the early 1970s wave, Lall first came to Canada before continuing to the United States, where he pursued his doctoral studies at the University of South Carolina. A civil engineer by training and calling, he devoted 25 years to the Port Authority of New York & New Jersey, helping shape the infrastructure that keeps this region moving—airports, bridges, and tunnels that millions pass through without ever knowing the careful minds and steady hands behind them. He took pride in work that lasted.
But Lall was never only one thing.
Husband. Father. Joyous grandfather. Brother. Uncle. Friend. Neighbor. Engineer. Teacher. Entrepreneur. Adventurer. Legendary storyteller and raconteur. And perhaps most of all—the life of the party.
He was all of these, and somehow even more than the list can hold.
After retirement, Lall began again—this time as an entrepreneur—launching Curry King, his pioneering curry sauce brand in the late 1990s. It was a project that blended heritage, hustle, and his belief that food is one of the most powerful ways people come together.
His love of culture and community also took him to Carnegie Hall, where he produced several concerts for Ravi Shankar—another signature Lall chapter: quietly ambitious, impeccably executed, and rooted in the joy of bringing people together.
Yet the heart of Lall’s life lived in the everyday ways he showed up for others.
He was dutiful in a way that redefined responsibility. Old school. Tough. Strong and often silent. But beneath that exterior was a soft emotional core that surfaced the moment someone was alone, scared, or in trouble. He didn’t just feel for people—he moved toward them and did something about it.
From opening his home to young Indian immigrants just starting their journeys in this country, to helping friends and neighbors with taxes, housing, or simply a place to land, Lall treated people with dignity—thoughtfully and respectfully—especially when nobody was watching. He saw himself in the hard-working immigrants of Jersey City and Bergen County, and he helped them build stability and pride. When recent ICE raids began, he didn’t just read the news—he checked in, quietly and personally, to make sure his buddies and their families were safe.
Taking care of people wasn’t something he occasionally did; it was who he was.
Lall was also whip-smart—curious, quick, and wonderfully opinionated in the best of ways. He loved his newspapers and had a voracious appetite for knowledge. The Bergen Record and New York Times were constant companions. He was a gentleman and a scholar—a true renaissance man—equally at home discussing engineering, politics, and world history as he was talking about food, music, culture, and people.
Above all, Lall loved life.
He didn’t just live it—he tasted it. He soaked it up. He worked, laughed, drank, ate, and traveled his way through more than ninety years, and he genuinely enjoyed every part of it. His journeys took him from early travels from India to Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Turkey, Bulgaria, and Canada; to adventures around the world—including Spain, Brazil, and Thailand—with his best friend Roger; to trips to Japan, Mexico, and Hawaii with his beloved wife Pam and son Neal. Whether across the globe or to his favorite local restaurant, he had a rare curiosity about the world and its people that simply can’t be taught.
His home in Wyckoff, New Jersey—the home he built and designed himself—became a living reflection of his spirit: a place of welcome. There was always a plate, always a drink, always a story, and always a sense that you belonged. He was a legendary host, a master of the grill, a gifted bartender, and the reason so many people felt like family the moment they walked through the door.
Lall is survived by his beloved wife, Pam Kwatra; his son, Neal Kwatra; his daughter-in-law, Katie; and his cherished grandchildren, Anjali, Dev, and Priya. He was a father figure to many and the patriarch of his family in every meaningful way.
He leaves a deep and unmatchable legacy. And if he were here to offer one last instruction, it would not be to mourn only—though we will miss him fiercely—but to gather. To eat. To laugh. To raise a glass. And above all, to take care of one another.
Because he knew—better than anyone—how lucky he was, and what a privilege this journey of life was.
And if we honor him the way he deserves, we will carry that forward—not just by remembering that he lived, but by choosing, again and again, to live the way he did: fully, warmly, protectively, and with our hearts, minds, and homes wide open for all those who need a place to rest their head.
