In Loving memory of My Dad

It has been about four years since we lost our dad, at the ripe age of 87 years. I have never written or made even a passing remark referring to him in any of my writings and I have been fully aware of that and wonder why. My mother is mentioned several times in my writings but not my father. Perhaps because some where there is a fear that I will not be able to do justice to his magnificent personality. I always remember him as a strict father but never remember any incidence where he raised his voice or even a little finger in anger towards us four siblings!

In our child hood Radio was the common source of entertainment available within the reach of most of the middle class. It served another purpose in our home. There used to be a program called “Bhaktiranjani” broadcasted from All India Radio Hyderabad at around 6.00 AM and every morning exactly at 6.00AM the program would be playing in the hall where we four siblings slept. It meant “ you four get up” and hearing the program we all would get up without a reminder. That was how my father disciplined us, with few words. On two occasions in an exception to his nature, he hit my brother! One can imagine that the reason must he compelling!

I was the eldest of the four siblings, with two younger sisters and a brother. My eldest sister was born after a gap of 5 years and hence I enjoyed my fathers undivided attention for 5 years and they were precious. My father had excellent drawing skills and I remember; he drew and painted alphabet individually in hand outs specially for me and I proudly remember that. He took pride in the fact that I was a left hander like him and when my teacher slapped me for using the left hand , his fury had no bounds and he came to school the very next day and warned her not to force me to use the right hand!

Part of our childhood was spent in a big joint family amongst my father’s brothers and their families and at no time was my education or of my sisters’ were neglected. My father himself could not pursue higher education due to financial conditions of the family, though he was the topper in his class and rank holder in B.com from Andhra University. He got employment into Government of India services and had no regrets about his education. He was committed to his job and only time he might have felt resentment was when his bosses were mediocre and he could not perform to his fullest potential due to he was limited by his position which was due to qualification. Eventually he grew intellectually to such heights that these degrees cannot measure. 

 When my parents noticed that education was not being given priority in the joint family and it was getting affected, they moved out of the joint family. Around that time when I had just completed schooling, my father built an own house. It was a herculean task that my father had undertaken. Those days, it was close to impossible to get loans and the government loan that he procured with great difficulty, being a central government servant , was not enough. He exhausted all his savings and resources and he was drained off of all his energies too, by the time our house was completed. It took us almost a decade to recover from the impact of acquiring our own house , but it was the most cherished ,valued possession we ever had and unknowingly dad had imparted a very valuable lesson to all of us. Soon after we set up our individual families, we planned for our own houses very early on and worked towards achieving the goal.

During the tough times after making the house, only he and God knew how he managed our finances. My siblings were too small to understand, I was too young to be of any help but I had the maturity to understand that it was not an easy task. Any other person would have cracked down under pressure, but he had the tenacity to with stand and as a rudder to wade through the difficult times, he used philosophy, which was equally challenging. First, he became ritualistic. He used to perform and make us participate in all religious ceremonies, conducting the puja himself. By virtue of his being a Brahmin , he very well knew the rituals and in time acquired deeper knowledge. This phase was there for few years. There after he posed very fundamental questions to himself about religion, cast system, Existence of God and so on and most of his time was spent on seeking answers to these. He was a self learner and his quest to get answers took him to study deeply Swamy Dayananda Saraswathi's writings, Vedas and Upanishads, and finally to the works of Jiddu Krishnamurthy. Though it started as diversion of his troubles, it was a serious affair.

Every day he would get up at 3.00AM and study books and make copious notes, hand written in beautiful strings of pearl on paper. This continued till much later, almost till the end of his life. His philosophical bent of mind helped him in dealing with few disappointments in life. By and large he was a content man with a pleasing persona and aura around his face, as every body who came across him said. 

He was voracious reader, his favorite writer being Charles Dickens and books being Huckleberry Finn, The Count of Monte Cristo, a tale of two cities. His favorite was the count of Monte Cristo , which he read several times and one time he read it aloud with translating into Telugu for my mother. He adored my mother.

Our larger family was also intricately associated with music, with my eldest uncle, Manchala Jagannadha Rao being Veena Maestro and many of my cousins and my own brother and last sister talented in singing. My father was a music lover and anything he liked, he would take it to perfection. He knew the basics of Music and was a good critic. He had a huge collection of Carnatic, Hindustani classical, western classical and contemporary music, film music, Ghazals, and what not. You name it and he had it in his collection. 

Next to mention is his talent with water colors. He had a very good hand and a discerning eye. But he left painting when he realized that he was very good only at replicating but not at creating. By the time he gave up painting, he painted some remarkable master pieces of art which are there with us as a reminder of him.

All through the ups and downs in life, our education and safety were given utmost priority. If we got delayed in the college, we were sure to find him at the bus top waiting to escort us home.

 I very fondly remember my first job interview, and how he guided me and helped me, of all the things, to choose a proper attire! Few days before the interview, he told me how to be subtle in appearance and to opt for a cotton saree which would look elegant and formal. When he realized that I did not have a handloom saree, which were not popular with young girls, he selected and bought one for me and got it washed and ironed so that it would look used.

Today when I look back, though we did not have material things, though he did not leave us any inheritance, he gave us good times, good memories and confidence that he was physically present for us at all times, simply merging in the background but showing his strong presence whenever required. His mere presence all through, watching him and associating with him has rubbed off and imparted to us knowledge, humility and wisdom and this is the biggest gift that we could have.

He lived up to his name Sri Ramachandra Rao, Manchala, name that his parents gave and sincerely tried to emulate lord Rama]s principles. I firmly believe that he never used lies as a means to gain anything. He was very popular with several people all around our neighbourhood, sharing his knowledge, good words for those who were going through tough times, jokes appropriate for the age and context. The list of his virtues will be very long if I continue, but in short, he is our hero and his memories will be there with us for ever.