Remembering My Father

This year, Mahalayapaksha (also called Pitrupaksha) began on September 13. It will end on September 27 on the day of Mahalaya Amavasai. It is a fortnight dedicated to dead ancestors. During this period, Pitrus are specially honored through Tarpanams (offerings). It is believed that the Pitrus in the form of manes come down to earth during this time and bless their descendants. This may be the best time of the year to remember my father, Narayanswamy Sundaresan, who was known as Ambi (short for Ambalavanan) in his younger days and Athi in his later days to his relatives.

My father was born in the year 1912 in a small village called Kotoor in Tamil Nadu. If he had been alive, he would be 99 years old now. Unfortunately, he died when he was 82. He was the only son to my grandparents, Dr. Narayanswamy and Yogambal. He studied in Kuttalam High School and later graduated in Chemistry at the Annamalai University.

Starting his first job as a news reporter for ‘Indian Express’ in Madras, he launched his long career in the chemical engineering field at the Government-owned Cordite Factory in Aravankadu, Nilgiris. Later, he moved to the High Explosives factory at Kirkee, near Pune where he worked until retirement. For almost thirty years, he worked in managing 24/7 chemical processes that produced explosives and harsh polluting chemicals such as nitric and sulphuric acids. Rain or shine, his only means of transportation was a ‘Rudge’ bicycle that served him faithfully all his life. He had always kept his bicycle in immaculate condition by regularly oiling it, ensuring everyday that the tyres and tubes are good, and the dynamo light worked. His other personal belonging that he kept all his life in excellent working condition was a “sowar prima” swiss-made wrist watch.

His work ethics were unmatched by anyone that I know of. He was so passionate about his work and so punctual that not once was he late to work in his entire three-decades career! He strived so hard at work from day to day; working in round-the-clock shifts almost his entire career in the most polluted environment suffering from leaking acid burns, losing his fine set of teeth and a nice bunch of jet black hair on his head; And never once complained about his tough work or the hazardous work environment though he lost some of his best friends in the explosions at the factory. No wonder, his coworkers held him in awe and high respect. Some of them have conveyed their great admiration of my father to me and my brother Babu.

He had a bunch of enviable qualities. He loved children – from babies to teenagers. For my brother Babu and me, he was the hero and role model. His handwriting was so beautiful that it was almost like a piece of art. I imitated it. My brother tried too –though unsuccessfully! Everybody who read his writing appreciated it. I have heard that he once wrote a job application for my uncle that was so impressive that my uncle got the job. My uncle’s boss was probably disappointed later on seeing an entirely different handwriting!

Blessed with a terrific sense of humour and a sharp memory, he instantly made an agreeable companion to young and old alike. Watching my father tell a joke in his own inimitable way was itself a pleasurable experience –it reflected his instinctive genial nature. He had a collection of jokes on almost every topic. On hearing his wit, delighted listeners will invariably burst with laughter and forget petty issues. He was equally good in writing and used to contribute small anecdotes to many Tamil magazines.

He never took insults and ignorance lightly. One instance comes to my mind – My father was instrumental to get one of our relatives married to the daughter of a well-known person in Pune. When he went to attend the wedding, the host completely ignored my father. Weeks later, when the host visited our home with the bride and the groom, my father expressed his disappointment at not even being recognized at the wedding. The host defended himself by saying that my father should have introduced himself. Much to the amusement of everybody in the room, my father told the host: “Yes – I agree with you. Next time, when I attend a wedding in your family, I will come wearing a big board around my neck introducing myself as Sundaresan.” The host hung his head!

He had clean habits. He never ever smoked, drank, gambled, chewed paan, or explored non-vegetarian food. He preferred cooking his own food rather than go to a restaurant. Much to the dislike of many, he was known to be very punctual. He helped many in distress who came to him seeking his assistance. He was very active all his life and shunned lethargy.

His interests were varied – ranging from Carnatic music, Hindi music of Sehgal, Pankaj Mallick and the like of those days, to gardening, cooking, shopping, cycling, and fixing all kinds of devices at home. He was not exactly religious but spiritually inclined. He exemplified the adage"sradhaya deyathe yasmath sraddam” (that which is performed with faith) by faithfully performing every year ‘Sraddam’ for his parents and grandparents. Before the ‘sraddam,’ he will make elaborate preparations in advance such as buying the most appropriate groceries, vegetables, fruits, and confirming the date and time with the priest and the Brahmin guests (Neither we nor the priest/guest had telephone those days –so, communication had to be done personally!).

He was not only my loving dad but also my best friend. Whenever I got frustrated at work, he will always cheer me up. I can never forget his sayings - “What one fool can do, the other can,” “ Don’t be chicken-hearted ,” “What is sauce to the goose is not sauce to the gander” and many others. He taught me the value of time and honesty.

What impressed me most was his attitude to life. He was the most contented person that I have ever met. Radiating bliss on his face, he once told me that given another chance to start life all over again, he would like to lead life in exactly the same way as he had done all along. Does it not reflect how happy and contented he was with himself?

He breathed his last when I least expected him to die. When and where will I get such a dear father?

Appa, I love you, I miss you very much. You will always live in my heart! Bless me, my brothers and our families, please.

In praise of the unsung heroines

In Shakespeare’s famous play of Julius Caesar, Mark Anthony proclaims, “The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones.” This quote is so true even to this day - not just with men but also with women. I know of so many women who sacrificed their entire life doing good things with least concern to their own health or happiness but their deeds were never recognized. One of such great women was my own maternal grand mother - my mother's mom - whose real name was Janaki but was known as Pudukottai Amma. I never understood P.Amma in my younger days. Looking back now after almost 40 years, I feel that all the good she did seems to have been interred with her bones. Nobody praised her or appreciated her work - not even her own family members for what all she did for them.

P.Amma was born in Madras as the daughter of a leading lawyer known as Patnam Subramania Iyer. She was married young to Sankaran, the eldest son of a wealthy mirasdar (landlord) living in a small village called Soolamangalam (near Thanjavur). As the eldest daughter-in-law of the household, she took more responsibility at home. Her husband was short-tempered and most difficult to deal with. She bore him eight children. One of her sons was unfortunately retarded from childhood. Toiling day and night, she raised her children with fortitude in a small village in the most conservative surroundings. By a stroke of bad luck, Sankaran lost heavily in his business that got his brothers worried about their shrinking shares in the family property. The brothers joined hands and filed a suit against Sankaran lodging claims over the properties. Sankaran lost the case and became bankrupt. Eventually, he died young at the age of 41 leaving his old father, his wife and children in deep distress. His eldest son N who was just about 15 at that time was forced to discontinue his studies and take up a clerical job at a bank in Pudukottai town to support the family.

Having lost her husband and all the riches, P.Amma moved from the village to her son's rented house in Pudukottai to begin yet another arduous phase of her life. Though she had no income, she never lost her guts and self-confidence. Her son N was intelligent and affectionate but was ill-tempered like his father and had an instinct for gambling in horse races. Her daughter-in-law was hard of hearing and could never understand the serious issues that confronted the family. Because of this handicap, the daughter-in-law was often the victim of her husband's uncontrolled wrath and physical abuse. P.Amma always kept cool and very tactfully dealt with both her son and daughter-in-law. I have never seen P.Amma lose her temper even in the most difficult situations!

With very little income flowing from a single wage-earner, the pot had to be kept boiling at home to feed over a dozen hungry mouths. Besides the eldest son and his wife & kids, there were always other members of the Sankaran family who stayed at home. There was the grown-up but retarded son who had to be handled with lot of patience and fed. Almost on a regular basis, P.Amma had to take care of one or more of her daughters who came for delivery at their mother's home and stayed for several months. In addition, some of her daughters left their children for education in Pudukottai. I too was one among those children. With so many members living at home, you can imagine the demands made on P.Amma in managing the household. She faced it all without a frown on her face.

Despite facing numerous stressful situations, I have never heard P.Amma complain about her misfortunes, fate or about her own personal discomforts. Her needs were very few. She ate very little and her clothings were just a few white sarees. Her bed used to be a long wooden plank of a swing; she always slept last in the night and was the first one to rise in early in the morning to wake up the other family members - specially the young ones. She shouldered much of the responsibility to manage the family and raise her grand children. The never-ending activities at home demanded P.Amma's best personal attention at all times. She had to often consult her son on family matters which she did usually late in the night after most members went to sleep.

Though she suffered from high blood pressure, P.Amma worked and worked, day after day, all for the sake of her family, never ever expecting anything in return. She rarely went out and enjoyed no vacation or rest for decades. She listened to people and helped many to resolve their personal problems. She made marriages happen! Her pastime included carnatic music, solving Tamil cross-words, and telling stories to children. Some of the best qualities that I observed in her were: unshakeable faith in the Almighty; enthusiasm at all times; patience; perseverance; truthfulness; self-introspection; ability to stay calm in a crisis; and love for all including those who hated her.

Today, we talk and praise those who achieve excellence in arts, education, medicine, politics, science or sports. We recognize such achievers with awards and give them a wide publicity. Do we recognize the sacrifices made by the countless number of women, including those who juggle in present days a competitive career and a demanding home, all for the welfare of their dear families? Who praises those unsung heroines like P.Amma? Well, I do! I salute P.Amma with all my sincerity for all the good she did to others and the most precious lessons that I learnt from her. With all my heart, I praise those unsung heroines, both past and present!