Raju Ganapathy

Drama

4  

Raju Ganapathy

Drama

Dad Sowed, I Reaped

Dad Sowed, I Reaped

7 mins
271


It was pre-dawn when the bhajan music filtered through. The singing had reached a crescendo and the clang of the symbols and the beat of the mridangam could be heard now. I knew then the bhajan group has just entered the south-mada street where I am presently on a sojourn. I hurriedly did my morning ablutions made myself a freshly brewed filter coffee and set out to join the group which was almost at the door step. I had tied a veshti around me, a shawl strewn over my t-shirt and with Bata sandals I looked undistinguishable from the gathering there. I was surprised to see some old but familiar faces and soon was delighted to know it was the Gnananada Bhajan group in which my late dad was a member and I used to accompany him on week ends in my childhood. It was remarkable that the group still maintained the tradition of Marghazi month veedi (street) bhajan. Marghazi, a Tamil month starts around mid-Dec and ends on mid-January with the celebration of Pongal festival. The locality Mylapore by itself was a historical place where some claim the famous poet, now a favourite of the present PM, Thiruvalluvar was supposed to have been born. Mylapore also hosted the Kapaleeswar Temple and the St Thomas Church. The veedhi bhajan go around the streets on all sides of the temple. The famous Marina beach was at a walkable distance of about 4 km.


I grew up as a child in Mylapore, where my dad and aunt owned jointly a family property, an old bungalow with a small patch of garden. My aunt still lives there as she was born in Mylapore and she had become a stubborn old widow with early signs of Alzheimer and living with her son of 45 years old. I was still fond of her as she was like a second mother. My cousin brother who was 15 years younger to me was somewhat differently abled lived with my aunt. I had quite some time back migrated to Germany where I worked for an organisation promoting fair trade world over. Soon after my father’s death I had come back with a mission to sell off the property and with the money obtained to resettle my aging aunt and my cousin brother. They could not afford to live life on their own in this house. I had just come into India when the pandemic struck and I found myself getting stuck as well.


It was on 24th March, 2020 I clearly remember as it was my birthday when the whimsical PM had made a shocking announcement Imagine a country of 1.4 billion put on a lock down notice of 4-hours. That was precisely that he had done. He said the war with the virus like the Mahabharata war would be over in a few weeks. That was not the case as the pandemic seemed well versed with the Art of War by Sun-Tzu.


My plans got tossed out of the window like a piece of garbage from a typical Indian household. Luckily, I could get out for shopping provisions and essentials and that kept my sanity going. The Indian economy was already plunging low like a neck line but made an ugly spectacle as the neck line exposed the sagging non-performing assets as that of the banks. It became difficult to find buyers of this property in such a time. By my Google research I had estimated that the property should fetch upward of 30 million rupees. I had planned to buy a two-bedroom flat for the aunt in Mylapore itself up to a value of Rs 10 million and put another 10 M in their account for their subsistence and keep the rest 10 M for myself. In case if it was necessary, I could support them also whenever required with additional money. I was quite comfortable financially as my wife and my daughter too worked. In any case social security in Germany was extremely good and no senior citizen would be found wanting in life of basic necessities. 


As the word got around that I was planning to sell the property I got exposed to the greed in human make-up. I got calls from brokers, real-estate companies, local politicians luring me to a cheap deal. So called friends soon stabbed me in the back on account of the same greed. There were hoping to persuade in agreeing to a deal brought by them where in they stood to gain behind my back. I was not in any hurry as my company said I could work from home and my family supported my decision given the situation of the raging pandemic. As I walked around in Mylapore I could see the greed in action. Foot paths were encroached by shop-keepers who paid a regular bribe to the police. The people walked on the roads adding to the traffic. Numerous offices that had sprung up also used the foot-path as their parking area. Nobody seemed to mind as it was a win-win for those concerned but a lose situation for the average citizen who considered it as part of karma. Those who could like me left for greener pastures.


Least did I know that my decision taken on a whim, like the PM himself, to attend the veedhi bhajan would change the tide in my favour. I continued with the bhajan till the end when it reached the main Gopuram entrance. I was pleasantly surprised when I was requested to stay back and partake some ‘prasadam’ as they called it. That was when I introduced myself to the familiar faces as Janardhanan’s son. They immediately warmed up to me as they said they had fond memories of him. One of them recalled that my dad used to host bhajans in my house at least six times a year. Another one recalled the sumptuous snacks and coffee after the bhajan. They asked me about the purpose of my visit when I told them. Then one of them whom I recalled as Kelly uncle took my number and said may-be we have a deal in hand.


Soon a deal in hand I did have. Gnananda Mandali as the bhajan group was called kind of originated in Mylapore itself. My dad had helped considerably, both leg work and some financial help, in its formation. Thereby they wanted to have an ashram in Mylapore itself. They were on the look out for some property which they could buy and re-build. One of the members, a wealthy man was willing to donate the required funds for this purpose. They were too willing to deal everything in white. I got a call from their lawyer Sambasivam, a wily old man who knew all the tricks of real estate business. He also happened to know my dad personally, had fond memories and claimed to have interacted with me too. 

He briefed me about the whole process. He had warned me of the sharks and vultures who would want to partake of the flesh. They would visit me, bully me and expect some cut in the deal. In all this process all that was required was to refer to Sambasivam to whom I have given the power of attorney. Sambasivan said with a twinkle in the eye they may or may not have heard about me but once they get in touch with him will be the last time, they would harass me also.


Sambasivam said that the mandali members were only too happy that Janardhan’s home would become their ashram and money was not a constraint. I told him that Rs 30 million rupees was my expectation. He made some quick calculations and said that 30 M sounded to be a very reasonable figure but he would work out additional 1 million in my favour.


As advised by Sambasivam I welcomed the sharks and vultures home offered them a cup of coffee, listened to them patiently when they explained their connections with the bureaucratic machinery and put across veiled threats if I were to ignore them. I told them to get in touch with Sambasivam. That was the last time I had seen their faces or heard from them. Soon the deal was done. Sambasivam had cut through the red-tape like a hot knife would do on a slab of butter. He pulled strings when he needed to keep the sharks and vultures at bay. Sambasivam could play politics as well as religious card when required.


Sambasivam also helped me to find a two-bedroom apartment for Rs 7.5 M and also assured help in finding a suitable maid to stay with my aunt and my cousin.

It is said that good deeds of one’s dad would pay dividend to his children. I reaped the dividends. The time-tested value and respect the mandali members had for my dad stood by my side and helped me see through the challenge and win over the human greed. It is a wonder that both played their parts in human nature. While the greed factor was hard hitting, respect for values and standing became the soft ware that one could put to good use.


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