RepeaTWO: A Grandfather Remembered – II

PAST PONDER

Background
It has been exactly 24 years since my Paternal Grandfather left for the heavens on August 13th 1983. I was still very young and this was the first personal tragedy that I have experienced in my life. Although it feels sad that I could not spend more time with this man, who I was named after, the silver lining on the clouds through which he must be watching me, is that I got to spend 6 years with him, during most of which, I was still a toddler. Lots of what I have described are rather blurred images from my brain and I will back it up with what I have heard from my family members over the years after his departure. This post will exercise my memory more than most others and is dedicated to my Thatha (Grandpa).

The Story So Far…

I had written last week about my thatha’s humble beginnings, his parents, his wedding and his troubles soon after. Please read the first post in the series, to recharge or load your memory with mine. Here, grab this pensieve, but I am no witch and this is no magic, just memories!

Dehu Road to Delhi…

My paati and her children were stuck in Dehu Road indefinitely since there was no communication from thatha. Thatha’s sister and brother-in-law, albeit in a good position, were not necessarily the most hospitable hosts. They were quite unkind to these three and I am told that my paati, still a young girl, who was loved by an auditor, while she was quiet happily spending her teenage with her family, found herself in very difficult circumstances. She had to walk several miles to get ration arisi (rationed rice), wash clothes, clean the house, etc. She would have to undergo that torture for 4-5 months before they would hear from thatha. This in my opinion, was the lowest point for my grandpa. His young family had to endure the consequences of a mistake that he had committed and they certainly did not deserve this.

Finally, it seemed as if their testing times were over! My grandpa called his family to Delhi, where he had taken up a decent job. But since he was still new to the job, he could not get time off to go in person to escort them to their new home in Rajghat, yes, near the Gandhi samadhi. The young lady and her two kids set off to Delhi in a train from Dehu Road, perhaps to the relief of their not-so-dear relatives. Hearing about these things still makes me wonder how my Paati is still in talking terms with these people to this day! Perhaps that is the magic of wisdom, that I might still lack.

They arrived in Delhi Station, some 24 hours later, and flagged a cabbie and innocently showed him the address of where they wanted to go to. The sardar taxi driver was nothing like the smiling and sincere ones we see in New York city these days. He was intent on making his bucks, so he took them on an unsolicited tour of Delhi city for what seemed to be ages! My paati took to some brave heroine-ic steps to get them out of there. I do not want to steal the thunder of this post from my grandpa by going into those “steps”. I will post those in a separate post at Past Ponder.

Delhi se gaye to Bambai… phir bhi na gaya prachanai…

They did not live in Delhi for too long and my thatha did not seem to be very happy with his job there. So, he and his family had to move again, this time out West, into the Economic Capital of India, Bombay. This would be the last and longest stop in a rather nomadic existence. He joined Godrej limited, founded by the Godrej family, which remains one of the most influencial in Bombay. They lived a very humble existence in Chembur at Tilak Nagar, in corporation housing. Here is where my father and his sister would spend most of their childhood. My dad became a self-proclaimed “great wall of Tilak Nagar” in cricket. He would be at the crease for hours, taking his time in scoring, while the others would get out around him 😉

Reportedly, happiness did not come without a bout of gloom for them in those days. My thatha and paati had another girl, my younger aunt. The elder kids were going to a modest school in Saraswathi Vidyalaya in Chembur, near the present day Chembur bridge. Soon, two of my thatha’s sisters came to stay with them, since they had no one else to turn to. My thatha’s brother was also staying with them. It was a large family under one roof. But thatha stood strong like a rock and supported everyone, with some good assistance from his brother. But soon, his brother got married and moved on to Madras. They underwent a lot of financial difficulties, sometimes to the extent of not being able to pay my dad’s fees, unable to afford good clothes or school uniform, like you see in many movies.

Entering Vrindavan…

Bombay soon became the city that thatha and paati began loving. They also got some of their best friends here. They remain in touch until today. R.C.K and his wife Sushila were really notable and so were Ramamurthi Mama & Mami. Sometimes, it is tough to imagine what life would have been, but for these people. Ramamurthi Mama, who was in Income Tax, was a very influencial person. He managed to secure a loan for thatha to be able to buy a decent apartment in Tilak Road, the place I would first call home when I set foot into this world! I owe it to an extent to Ramamurthi Mama!

In 1971, the construction on the three floor apartment building, Vrindavan in Ghatkopar would be completed and ours was the watch tower flat on the third floor. Sure enough, R.C.K also bought an apartment on the same building and same floor, though in a different wing, connected by the terrace upstairs. I am sure it must have been the biggest moment of their lives in those times. Here is where several important events in our history would take place and our family would live in that flat for exactly 30 years!

The Golden Era…

My thatha began to grow steadily in a respectable position at Godrej. He and his colleague friend, R.C.K, would also have a lot of fun at Vrindavan with their families and descendants. Their social lives would bloom and the kids would always have dear friends to play with. They shared a lot in common, including their interests, hobbies, etc. The least of things I would like to mention as a common thing between them is their appetite for tobacco. My thatha used to consume a lot of thambakoo paan; this unfortunately carried on to my dad, of course not genetically, but just coincidentally. My dad has far surpassed his father on tobacco consumption and this is something I am really disgusted with. Appa, you reading???

Life started getting better, the number on the Class column on kids’ notebooks would keep increasing. Thatha could now afford to send the youngest offspring to a famed school, Fathima, which until today remains one of the best schools in Greater Bombay. He must have been very proud of his growth and achievement, while feeling a tinge of disappointment that he could not do the same for his elder kids. However, I am very sure that the elder kids are not complaining. He did all that he could to get them great education at the college level. My dad went on to do an M.Com and LLb, while my aunt was content with her B.A, after which she vowed that she was done studying. The younger aunt went on to do a B.Com as well.

Soon, my dad started work at Godrej as a junior typist. It was a position that my thatha was heavily influential in starting him with. But understandably, he wished that my dad could get better things. This did not take too long and my father joined as a junior clerk in the Union Bank of India, at Muhammed Ali Road, Masjid Bunder. This was in the hub of Bombay and the buzz of activity. My dad would keep taunting thatha playfully, that he worked in the New York of Bombay, whereas thatha went to a remote town in Iowa, to Godrej at Vikhroli. Soon, my aunt also started at Godrej, after completing her B.A.

One after another, there were reasons to celebrate in the family. Whether it was the day when Bharath television arrived, or it was the time when the Godrej refrigerator came in. But to my thatha, the biggest pleasure must have been when the large Grundig gramaphone arrived. He was a great connoisseur of music, which was not necessarily appreciated by my paati. He loved music from Balamuralikrishna, T.M.S, M.S.Subbalakshmi and devotional songs like Alai Payudhey (old one), Kurai Onrum Illai, etc. To this day, my paati will get tears in her eyes if you sing one of those songs. He also used to be a good singer of these songs. This is surely something that has not been genetically carried over to me; I am a disaster when it comes to singing!

Kids no longer… Bring on the Wedding Bells!

In 1975, when my thatha was 48, he decided that it was time to get his elder daughter married to relieve some of his responsibilities. My dad, who had wanted to go on to do his Chartered accountancy, had to go to work since although, the family was doing better than before, it could do with more help. So, my dad took on an assist role to add a few hundred rupees per month into the home pool. Thatha also began doing some part time work over the weekends with a private auditor, Shetty. This was a crucial step for me and one of the main reasons I got to spend even more time with my thatha, as I was to find out much later!

My aunt got married to a Science graduate, who hailed from Kandhivili, working for Goodlass Nerolac Paints. I can still remember the man’s frightening looks at that time. My thatha was not the most inclined with the alliance, but then which father can ever think that he has found the best for his daughter? But when it came to his son, things were radically different. In 1976, a year after my elder aunt’s wedding, thatha thought it was appropriate to get his son settled down in life, since his other daughter was way off in terms of age, she was just entering college and surely she had aspirations of working for a while independently.

Thatha and Paati with assistance from my elder aunt, filtered through the eligible alliances and then they landed up at my mom’s place in Sion. My maternal grandfather, also one of my most revered persons, had made sure to do all the necessary background checks about this family and he was convinced about the authenticity. A battalion of more than 10 people landed up at my mother’s residence in Sion for the “ponnu paakara” ceremony. My mom would still keep complaining that, if there were so many people (men) that came, how would she ever know who the groom was?? My dad at that time was still a young and puny lad of 25. So, there was no easy way to find out who the groom was. My mother initially thought that my athimber (aunt’s hubby) was the groom! After all the singing and talking, my father was still undecided although he did like the girl. The groom side did not respond for days together and the pulse was speeding up on the bride side.

I was told that my paati and aunt were looking at other candidates without my thatha’s knowledge under the pretext of “thinking for a while”. Thatha got furious at this and picked up the phone, without asking anyone and told my maternal grandfather that he had really picked his daughter-in-law in his daugther. Thus my parents were united on March 3rd 1976 in a marital bond.

Thatha becomes a Grand Parent but suffers a stroke!!

Pretty soon after that, my thatha who would have already been overjoyed by two weddings in the family, would have another great reason to rejoice. His first grandchild was born on April 11th 1976, which was my elder cousin. He was overjoyed and held aloft the newest member of his progeny, a mottai yet extremely fair kid. Thatha, who through his middle ages had become somewhat proficient in reading horoscopes, predicted great things for this guy. He said his grandson would be brilliant and would have a lot of opportunities to grow in life. If he took the right decisions, he would become world famous. He was definitely right to a large extent, looking back.

I think the turn of events were too swift and too much for my thatha’s heart to take. It decided to take a moment to go offbeat, but this impacted my thatha in the form of a heart attack in early 1977. This was his first sign of a weak heart as the cardiogram revealed and although there would be much to rejoice in the years to come, his heart would never be the same…..

I have to pause here….

Credits: I am too young to be the family historian, I am humbled to announce that Mr. R.C.K that you read about in this post, kindly reviewed and provided corrections to dates from my original post about a year ago!

To be concluded……

~ by The Tarun on June 19, 2007.