Reminiscences on a Father’s Day
With my Dad,1995
Orhan Pamuk, in his inimitable words, said, “With the death of my father, it wasn't just
the objects of everyday life that had changed; even the most ordinary street
scenes had become irreplaceable mementoes of a lost world whose every detail
figured in the meaning of the whole.” The Museum of Innocence
I cannot agree more. I have experienced what he had written
once; “Every man’s death begins with the
death of his father”: My Father
My father, Rama Varma Thirumulpad was born in 1919, one year after the First World War ended, to Kandanchatha Othikkan Raman Namboodiri (Vedic scholar) and Kalappattu Madhom Kavootty Nambishtathiri at Vellarappally. His maternal grandfather was Akavoor Vasudevan Namboodirippad (father of Akavoor Narayanan noted literary personality).
Kalappattu Madhom traces its origin to
Ayroor Kovilakam of Vanneri, a thavazhy of Kodungalloor Kovilakam. The roots of
Perumpadappu (Cochin Royal Family) are also traced to Vanneri.
Having passed his SSLC and further some certificate courses in
cottage industries, he first worked as a teacher in the Palace School of
Kodungalloor. Later he joined the Cochin State Service as an Ameen in the law
department. His satvic mind was not tuned to this job and he resigned from it.
Later, he became part of the Public Works Department that after integration of
the States was renamed the PHED from which he retired as a gazetted officer.
Those were the days when Kerala had only one Chief Engineer and my father
retired as Manager of his office in Trivandrum. All through his career, he led a
life of honesty, integrity and simplicity.
He was a devote believer without being superstitious. While
being a teetotaller, he has not objected to the occasional indulgences of the
children. He had tremendous patience and withstood various personal tragedies
and tornadoes with great calmness and poise. Without being a great scholar, he
personified wisdom. With humility, he commanded love and respect. With limited
resources, he was conscious of his priorities. What I thought mistakenly as
miserly acts were really actions taken for charity and care for the future.
Once the children came of age, he always treated them as equals.
Once, in his eighties, I asked him what in his life made him
most happy. Taking a pause, he said that no particular incident has given him
great joy as I had imagined. Just to be with good people was something he
enjoyed, I had noted.
Again I asked: "Dad, what is the incident in your life
that had saddened you most? To this question, he replied this: “I cannot again tell of a particular
incident as I have experienced various difficulties in life. The untimely death
of those with whom we have worked and lived is what is disturbing me most
at present".
He lived a complete life. In 2012, at the ripe age of 93, as
he departed the world, the last words on his lips were,” Hare Narayana”.
Today, when I fondly recall him with immeasurable reverence
and love, I am reminded of my shortcomings. While I proudly claim to have
imbibed many of his qualities, I still do not have answers for many questions as
well. Where did I miss his “Belief”? Why could not I learn his “Patience”?
Palakkad,
Father’s day 2021
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