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.