The jokes- that's what comes to my mind first. There were always a few jokes. Most of them were new. That is the first image I have of him and that is the last.
Exactly a year back, my Periappa (Dad's elder brother) was killed in an industrial blast. Boom!! and it was all over. A consolation, they say, is that the death would have happened within a second of the blast. He would have known no pain. "Kapaalamoksham", some said, for the skull lay shattered. The newspapers next day had a picture of the blast site- thank God, it was not in colour.
For years he had reiterated to me that just as breathing comes naturally to you, the name of Rama should always be there in your mind and lips- with every breath you take. I have a strange feeling that the picture of his body that I saw in blast site photograph had one of his fingers pointed up- strange feeling... I feel he would have definitely been chanting the lord's name when he dropped his body.
Periappa was always special to me. I vividly remember how thrilled I would be, as a kid, when I would meet him. That thrill remained with me each time I visited him in Coimbatore, or when we met elsewhere. There was some energy about him... He was always eternal to me and will remain so...
We had our special moments- ever since I started working, I used to call him and chat at least once or twice every month. His favourite starting question to me was, "ippo enda kovil-la irukkai?" (which temple are you in now?). We shared a common interest in visiting old ancient temples. He was/is one of my foremost spiritual masters. Many a special moments that I cannot cover in a blog- lunching with him on the occasion of Anna's (his son) marriage, sitting outside the marriage hall at Hemanth's wedding and chatting about the Indian calendar and the Chinmudra... a five minute dialogue at our place on the occasion of Dad's 60th birthday... him initiating me into the Moolamantra of our family deity... that concert of Shubha Mudgal at Nehru park... his eyes filled with tears when the bestest singer in this world, my friend Doceee, sang him a few songs...him buying me raw mango with chilli powder at Gandhi park in Coimbatore...the visit to Haridwar and the visit to Delhi when I last met him... those so many phone calls... Going through one of my worst lows in life, I was brooding when he sensed something and called in "Whenever in any confusion call me"... me smiling at the end of it....
For a man who was largely unemotional, his closing words during our phone calls in his last few months/ years were "aye, koopdu- kaettayaa..." (Listen, keep calling in).
As I was driving to office today, I realised I was crying... Had he been there, he would have been the first to say "Geethai-la chollirukku.." (In the Gita, it is said...)...
As a firm believer in re-incarnation... I am convinced that wherever he would have gone, he would have gone to a better plane.... There will be plenty in that better plane who are happy that he is with them...
Many have asked me about my non-sense of humour. I have often told them that I have inherited it from him. The difference is that people laughed at the jokes he cracked :-)
When I think of him now, I remember parts of a Ghazal, surprising the one genre he never really appreciated-
"Ek aah bhari hogi, humne na suni hogi,
Jaate jaate tumne, awaaz toh di hogi...
Har waqt yahi hai gham, us waqt kahaan thhe hum,
Kahaan tum chale gaye..."
There will always be a regret- that he could not meet my fiancee or that my kid(s) would not get a chance to meet him.... Sometimes I ask this to God, "why"...or "what if".... It was a Shivaratri when the blast occurred... He had completed his special Poojas only a few minutes back... His bag lay packed in his room for his next trip...
And then one feels small that all this is orchestrated by somebody up above the world so high who knows what is best. One can only keep one's faith strong- I think that is the most significant message he ever gave me...
