Baba is no More_
An era came to an end on 26th August 2010.
A thorough gentleman, a stickler to the core, and a bridge enthusiast, my father-chacha for us and ‘baba’ for the next generation- passed away after a prolonged illness at the ripe age of 90.
His death has left behind a void which will be difficult to fill even after considerable passage of time
For him all his children were apple of his eyes, but being the youngest of his three sons and a daughter, I always had a feeling that he definitely loved me the most and had a softer corner for me.
I had always considered myself to be the privileged one!!
Nostalgia takes over:
I do not have much of a memory of you as a child, Chacha, as you would go early to office and come late on account of your posting around Lucknow.
The earliest memory I have of you goes back around 50 years when as a toddler I would rush out into the courtyard on hearing your bike- if I was awake.
Your being out of home, however was not a pathway of going astray. Amma saw to it. If at all any of us did any improper behaviour, not to her liking, the only thing she used to say is – ‘acchha aane do chacha ko’. These five words were enough for us to behave and wish that amma did not complain to you. My childish brain, however, tried to overcome the supposed reprimand by just pretending to be at my study table when you came home in the evening just to ensure that if at all Amma complains, at least you would see that I was studying and maybe forget it. We came to know much later that Amma had never complained. It was her way of disciplining us.
On account of your schedule, there was not much interaction between us, but gradually as I grew up to the age of 7 or 8 years, when maybe I was in class 3rd or 4th, you started bringing light reading material for me –Perry Mason by Earle Stanley Gardner was probably your favourite and I developed a reading habit which continues to this day-albeit of English language only. The habit has been inherited by Rumjhum and Raunak as well. Thank you chacha, for the most wonderful habit!
Your anathema to Hindi however, deprived me of the rich Hindi literature. No regrets though as now I have started reading that too, thanks to Sanchita who herself is an avid reader.
You wanted me to make my foundation strong in all respects and towards this in mind, you admitted me in the La Martiniere and send me to the hostel. A child of 9 years in class Vth became too home sick, missed you and amma the most. Whenever you and amma came on Saturdays to visit me I would always be there beneath a tamarind tree waiting for that affectionate hug and then bidding you goodbye with tears. Your heart overruled your mind, which resulted in your withdrawing me from the hostel. To this day, I regret my becoming homesick and you succumbing to my tears. Why couldn’t you put your foot down and force me to stay in the hostel? You were so strong, yet could not see me sad. This is not the way people knew you.
Your strict discipline was always we feared, but I can now say that it has acted as a boon for us as it has helped in character building.
At that time I couldn’t fathom out why you insisted that the entire family should be present at the morning tea and dinner. What an effective role this practice played in filial bonding! The interaction of the family was definitely required at least once a day. This continued even after we got married and the new bahus towed the line-though grudgingly initially.
Thank you, chacha, for creating a deep bonding among us, which has now percolated to the next generation too, a thing not very common nowadays. We are proud of it.
Yourself a sportsman, you always encouraged us to play. For you, sports was not only physical; it was a great leveler, a creator of camaraderie and above all teacher of sportsman spirit. As in sports, every phase of life should be played within the framework, according to the rules of the games. It is this spirit which was the hallmark of your life, and I am proud of it that it has come to me as well. I have always lived life as a true sportsperson, never hitting below the belt. Just for inculcating this attitude in me, I will always be indebted to you.
The gradual increase of the family led to a new house at 80 Vishnupuri. This ‘Assi’ as it is fondly called by the next generation, became the pivot. Nupur, Ankur and Juhi were the permanent residents of Assi, alongwith Sanchita and Mayank. For a period, Pitloo and then Mohit also resided here for pursuing their studies/vocation. I also was here for four years. Everyone had a ball. Come summer vacation and with Rumjhum and Raunak joining in, Assi was at its full bloom.
The first blow to Assi came on 20th November 2000 when Amma left us. How coolly you stepped into her shoes taking under your wings the entire management of Assi. You missed her, and why wouldn’t you, after a partnership of 55 years but never ever did you let us have the feeling that we had lost our mother. You became a mother to us too. But with you gone now, I don’t know who to turn to in future for the small and effective advice on any matter whatsoever. For every little thing in our family, the response was, ‘chacha se pooch lo’, ‘chacha ko bata do’ ‘chacha kya kah rahe hain?’
You are no more with us physically but I want to keep your name alive for posterity.
Long live Baba….
