We miss you Father

We miss you, may there be more fathers like you

RAVI CHITRAPU (THE WRITER'S EMAIL IS: RAVICHITRAPU@REDIFFMAIL. COM)

He would have celebrated his 95th birthday this year had he been alive today. Fourteen years have elapsed since he passed away — and gosh, this is the first time I am sitting down to write about him! Why didn't I do so all these years? I am not very sure of the reasons – did I think he was not ‘celebrity' enough to write about? Or wasn't there much to write about him?


I don't think so — more likely that I wasn't able to accept the fact of his death for several years (I still momentarily pause before prefixing ‘late' to his name while filling up an application.) and I have yet to understand him fully myself.

Amazing grit

He was unique in his own way — a man of amazing grit and determination, who knew how to face adversity and come out successfully, never frustrated by challenges, a man who personified the simple yet eternal values of integrity, honesty and nationalism.


His memories still seem fresh — taking us for college admissions, trudging alone to cast his vote, admonishing my mother when she made ‘popu' and the spicy fumes made him cough, cajoling us into a game of ‘puli-meka' or scrabble while we would want to go out to meet our friends, and hoisting national tricolour with autowallahs on January 26 and August 15 every year.


I guess we took him for granted while he was alive. And, maybe, didn't expect him to die when he did. I can recollect now, with a tinge of guilt, the missed opportunities to share his stories of the large joint family he grew up with, his childhood in Rajahmundry, his travails as an employee in Pune, his struggle to run the family, the many English poems he still remembered and the anecdotes he would recount.


Strongly influenced by Mahatma Gandhi, whom he had the fortune of seeing and listening to, most of my father's views and principles were worth emulating and fortunately were entrenched into us five siblings. His emphasis on good education was the foundation on which we grew up to be what we are today. He wouldn't mind spending any amount of money for our studies and my mother would always recall, with horror, how he got the first daughter admitted to a ‘posh nursery school' in Pune, paying a fee of Rs.15 a month when his salary was just Rs.45! (wow, 1/3 of the salary!).


Not to say he was a spendthrift. Our textbooks were always from the elder sib or the second-hand shop; for notebooks, my father would carefully cut out all unused pages from the old notebooks, cut them to equal size and stitch them together. Even one-side papers were used at home for rough work! Brown packaging paper would be reversed to cover the books! We didn't cringe or complain — a wee bit embarrassed maybe, but much later (actually years later) we learnt to be proud of those books.


Mom would always tell us how, during their many rail journeys between Pune and Eluru, my father would borrow hot water from the engine driver (trains ran on steam engines those days) to make milk from milk powder for the tiny tots. Only he could have thought of that!


This ability to make things with little cost was something to be marvelled at. Reusing and recycling were his mantra much before they became an environmental fad. I remember several of his nephews and nieces who would exclaim — ‘Oh, this is Babu mamaya's work for sure' even as they saw an old bucket handle fixed as a towel stand in the bathroom, a cycle part as a grill for the ventilator or a neatly woven mesh with bits of wires and strings for the jasmine creeper. I remember how, one day, at a shop dealing in iron scrap near the old Poorna Market, my father bought bits and pieces, and even as the shocked owner, Mr. Suleiman, watched in amazement, got a big gate assembled for our house (it's still there!). Anything he made, he ensured that it would last for a long long time. And, after so many years, it's nice to see now and then a knot he has tied in some old bag to pluck mangoes or a wire tightly looped around the electric pole or a well-fixed door latch.


Never spending on himself (he revelled in wearing old clothes, khakis, boots, etc., some of which were left over by my brothers because they didn't want to use them anymore!), my father never cringed at spending for our food or education. Of course, for clothes, we often had to wear the elder sib's clothes, often re-sized! Ramana, the tailor near I Town Police Station, would be dismayed as dad bargained and cajoled him into a veritable deal!


We ate all sorts of food and fruits of all seasons, be they mangoes or palm fruits, corncobs or custard apples and what not. A favourite of his was crushing papaya fruit pulp with ice he brought from a nearby shop, and served as ‘ice cream.' He really enjoyed his food, but, sadly in later years, diabetes with mild kidney failure and (now it seems unnecessarily) a strict doctor son overlooking his diet, forced him to restrict himself to bland food.


We miss you, father, and sorry for all the trouble we gave you. But we are grateful for what you gave us and what you made us into. May there be more fathers like you, moulding their children into good and useful citizens. Jai C.S. Murthy.

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COMMENTS from The Hindu -
16 comments -

I was telling my colleagues about his attitude towards not wasting food and the way he died without suffering. I was telling my friends that only good people have contented life and peaceful death.We all miss him and try our best to follow his teachings.

from:  Ravi

Posted on: Nov 2, 2011 at 23:53 IST
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Heart-touching article making us feel the love our parents shower on us of which we sometimes remain oblivious.

from:  Amit Kumar Singh

Posted on: Jul 3, 2011 at 18:28 IST

Article is as nice as its Title seems. My Father was Senior clerk in Trade tax department and he had done lots of efforts to send three of there childern abroad for higer studies two of them are still there and I had return back to the place to which I am Indegenous because he departed on Aug.18 2010. Things Never goes as you want them to run. Chronology is dynamic and not static for sure. I was not here when he went off. What can i do except thinking of that he is not here with us.He was intellectual his letter drafting was in corigible and everybody was like impressed with my dad, he use to work hard and he had won so many awards for dedication towards his work and honesty.

from:  Shailendra sharma

Posted on: Jun 29, 2011 at 14:46 IST
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I like the article more so because it touches upon a very pertinent issue - that of living intelligently with little. It is really important to understand that recycling and reusing are not to be considered miserliness because it is actually a wonderful exercise and stimulation for the human mind when it tries to be creative and resourceful in trying to find aesthetic/economical/ecological alternatives to everyday living rather than buying everything off the supermarket shelves or paying for labour that could be done without. It is a great feeling when one is able to live well with little because then the source of power is not so much money but oneself.

from:  Luhar Sen

Posted on: Jun 27, 2011 at 13:01 IST

Kudos to 'THE HINDU' and Ravi Chitrapu for your awesome article. i look back nostalgically to my father after reading this.

from:  Krishna Kumar

Posted on: Jun 26, 2011 at 08:20 IST

It's a thought provoking article by the author which kindled my memories of mine with my father. Though we were not in good terms while he was living due to his strict approach on me on studies. Being a doctor in service he was out of family for more than 20 years - we had not that much attachment towards him on that days.Now only I could feel the pain of living outside the family. He had an attack in 1992 and he was insisted to go for bye pass.but refused to undergo the surgery purely on financial constraints he had on that time due to my studies. And i came to know the thing only recently through my uncle.just think of the responsibility he had on my career.i felt realy guilty.if he had undergone that surgry on that time ,he might have with us today. It's really a great loss to us. Gods are no where; they are very near to us but we feel that only after missing them.

from:  Dr M Sethuanandan

Posted on: Jun 25, 2011 at 20:53 IST
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Father's Day - it kindles memories of my father who's no more. He met with a road accident in 1995. I love my Dad. He used to buy anything I wanted. He used to shower his love and affection. Being more closer to my dad, his loss is inevitable. Time may pass, but I still have the same question to God - why he took my DAD away?

from:  Priyankka Om Prakash

Posted on: Jun 25, 2011 at 18:25 IST

Beautifully written!! Opens a floodgate of emotions!!

from:  Anita Yadav

Posted on: Jun 24, 2011 at 12:59 IST

Really thought provoking article, congrates to 'The Hindu' for having collected and published the valuable letter with valuable cultural memories.

from:  Dr. V. Sundararajulu

Posted on: Jun 23, 2011 at 09:27 IST

Very poignant indeed especially the one where the father arranges hot water for the tiny tots obtaining it from the engine driver during travel during the steam engine days. I too have fond memories of my father grooming me up to come up in life. He had his role models viz. Winston Churchill and his army officer and foreign service bosses whom he wished I should emulate in my life. He had a penchant for foreign languages and made me learn French and German. However I did not like his intrusions into my motivations a part of him has remained in me and now at the age of 62 I am richer for the experience of growing up under his tutelage. He was also a connoiseur of Tennis avidly watching the Grand Slam events on TV. Though my father is no more having passed away in 2009 he continues to live in my mind every day. What I did not appreciate during his life time I am able to imbibe the value after his demise. Proper table manners and decorum while eating was one of his fads.

from:  R.VIJAYKUMAR

Posted on: Jun 23, 2011 at 06:14 IST
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Wonderfully written. Captured the essential elements of growing up in the pre-1991 era... the travails and thrills of living and succeeding in those days - and yes, the role played by middle-class men in making sure that the kids develop into good citizens and 'make something of themselves' - which usually translated to becoming an engineer or getting a government job or both! I have asked my young daughter to read and try to imagine how life used to be...

from:  Phaneendra

Posted on: Jun 22, 2011 at 12:59 IST

THE HINDU brought out good article by Ravi Chitrapu. Everyone of us would realise how our FATHERS given their life to all of us and the positions we are today.They are SELFLESS, only live for the welfare of others.The learning continues.Thank you for Recall chance of Loving and Strict Father to lead a family of 15 his sons,daughter,brothers and sisters under one roof.

from:  Vedapuri Subramaniam

Posted on: Jun 22, 2011 at 11:10 IST

Beautifully written article.made me remember my own father ,who did so much for me.Did I thank him when he was alive? Probably No. Now thank you dad wherever you are.

from:  Navin kumar

Posted on: Jun 21, 2011 at 07:34 IST

Fathers are the unsung heroes of the families. Their contribution to family's welfare is usually taken for granted. While moms' toils are remembered and appreciated, the personal sacrifices that the dads make for ensuring a good living for the children don't even get a mention.

from:  D. Chandramouli

Posted on: Jun 20, 2011 at 20:02 IST

Its beautifully accounted and after reading it their is lump in the throat as how we forget to notice our parents as we grow up without realizing what we are today is all because of them.

from:  Himani Saini

Posted on: Jun 20, 2011 at 15:27 IST

THE HINDU deserves to be appreciated for publishing some special articles on the Father's Day , one of which is by Ravi Chitrapu. It is not very poignant as is usual for such articles, especially when the writer's Dad is no more, but gives vivid insight on how responsible Fathers take care of their kids sometimes much more than even the Mothers, and remain as 'unsung heros', evoking strong emotions in sons, like the one in the author's thoughts.

Reading this article , has kindled me of my own memories of my father, who passed away about 18 years back, a kind man ,with a great sense of self-esteem and courage , lover of good food without slightest compromise on the taste, even if it means having salt and chilli powders near his plate for instant adjustment, insistent that his sons get the best education, his daughters married off early but with dignity, and treating my mother with a certain degree of domination that was the hallmark of the generation of the passed century's patriarchal society.

I and my younger brother were the last of his 6 off-springs, and i still remember both me and my brother waiting on Friday evenings sitting on the compound wall of the Railway station to see his arrival from Ooty and salem where he worked on transfers , we stationed at Madras. When we see his patented swinging gait on the platform , we used to run to the stair case to meet him half-way and greet him, the glow on his face with a big grin still clouds my tearful eyes. He would take care of each of his 6 kids whenever they fall sick and would literally stay awake all night ,constantly enquiring sometimes to our irritation if there is anything troubling us. We now realise his actions when our own kids fall sick now.

The most important thing which is etched in my memory was, when i fell in love with another caste girl and this was roundly rejected by my mother and all others in the family and going through a period of immense pain, my father one day , early in the morning came up to me and said in a choking voice that he will take care of getting the girl of my choice married to me, little realising that the girl had already left me to marry someone. The tears that rolled down my cheeks on that day was , the tears of joy and admiration and i profusely thanked God for blessing me with such a Dad.

He had hurt us and my mother by his straight and blunt talk sometimes, but that was the fence he erected , to save any attempt at impinging on his self-respect, even by his own people. But he never left us waiting for anything to be fulfiled be it education, good food or established life and social security.

I salute my late father and prostrate before his soul for his blessings on the Father's Day, am sure everyone needs a mother to exist, but a father to help us sustain in this world by their selfless work.They are , as i said before, our true unsung heros.

from:  K.S.Ranganathan

Posted on: Jun 19, 2011 at 18:31 IST

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Letters to the Editor Hindu - June 22, 2011 -

To father, with love

On reading the article “We miss you, may there be more fathers like you” (Open Page, June19), I too was reminded of my father. He was a government employee and always cared for our small pleasures. He ensured that his four children had all the good things he could afford on his meagre salary. Every evening, he would bring home four pieces ofchikki(groundnut candy) or coconutburfi. I have never seen him getting angry. At 72, he is extremely popular with his grandchildren. Love you, dad.

Veena Shankar,

Coimbatore
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Fathers play their part silently without expecting anything in return. Whether it was admission to a costly coaching institution when I was in class twelve, or an expensive laptop when I was in the engineering college, my father ensured that I got the best even if he couldn't afford them. His faith in us, even in times of failure, motivates us to work harder.

Anu R. Nair,

Chandigarh
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I recall an incident that took place when I was a student. There was a small misunderstanding between my parents. I took my mother's side as I thought she was right. This angered my father who stopped talking to me. Even after my parents made up, my father did not talk to me. I too refused to talk to him.

In my SSLC examination, I came out with flying colours. I scored a centum in maths and was the school topper. When my sister-in-law handed over the mark sheet to my father, tears welled up in his eyes. All our misgivings vanished into thin air. My father embraced me and said: “You should not have been stubborn like me.” Although the mother occupies the first place in everyone's world, the father is second to none.

S.R. Viswanathan,

Salem
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It was with a feeling of guilt that I read the articles on fathers. Many of us took our fathers for granted. We are what we are today only because of their sacrifice. The value system they passed on to us is priceless. I remember one typical incident about my father. Because he had given his word to his employer, he refused to switch over to a job in the Railways, even when his employer's business was on the decline.

K.R. Venkataramani,

Coimbatore
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I was on a transferable job and my family had to stay in Chennai right from the time of my elder daughter's school days. I could see my children only for a brief period every year. By the time I retired and settled down in Chennai, both my daughters had emigrated to the U.S. and Canada. Although I enabled them to have good education, I missed out on the pleasures of togetherness during their formative years.

Today, I can recall only vaguely the precocious acts of my elder daughter and the warm affectionate hugs of my little one.

R. Ramachandra Ayyar,

Chennai
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