Monday, December 21, 2020

My Father- Random Reflections

 Extracted from a booklet giving  a bio sketch of my father released on the occasion of my father`s Birth Centenary in 2015. The booklet containing articles by  his near and dear ones was compiled by my brother R.Seshadri . The following was my contribution:

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My father –a man with a split personality!

 

 When my father Rangarajan passed away in October, 1994, at the age of 79,  I was 52 years old. As the eldest son of the family I had the privilege of spending almost 45 years with my parents, the longest association that any member of the family had with them. I thought I will  share some random reflections about a person who taught me great values, which has stood me in good stead in my life.

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My relationship with my father was never very cordial. I was a recipient of the violent punishment he used to subject me to when I was a kid. Though he never openly expressed his affection for me, I would hear from his friends and relatives that he was very proud of my progress in life and my achievements.

 The only time I enjoyed my father’s company exclusively was during a trip to Kanayakumari, when I was 14 years old. We had gone to attend the wedding of my maternal uncle in Kumbakonam. My father accepted the offer of a car and driver to visit a few places in South from my uncle Venkata who was then the GM of T.P. Sokkalal Ramsait Beedies Co, based in Tirunelveli. I have very pleasant memories of this trip because I was the only child accompanying him as my mother stayed back in Kumbakonam with her other younger  kids to spend time with her own family. I can’t think of any other occasion when he was so  nice to me as a kid.

 When I was a young boy, my father was working as a Manager in a small Trading Company run by a group of ‘Rajasthani’ businessmen. His office attire was a pair of trousers with his shirt tucked in and an open coat without a tie. He would wear what was known as ‘Pathan chappal’ (a slip on footwear that was neither a ‘chappal’ nor a shoe) without socks. He would always carry an umbrella to protect himself from sun or rain as it was quite a walk from Bombay VT station to his office in Flora Fountain.

He would leave home at 9.30 am everyday and return only around 8.00pm. He used to work six days a week and on Sundays which was a rest day, there would be no place for him in our one room  tenement ( kholi) in the chawl  in Bombay where we lived. He would take his favorite easy-chair to the common passageway and try to sleep crouching in that chair. It used to be a sad sight. It made me resolve that one day I will build a home of my own and reserve a separate bedroom for my parents.  A  promise I kept up later in life.

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 My father was a completely domesticated man.He would help my mother with a few household chores. He used to be very fond of buying and cutting vegetables. He was also a decent cook who cooked simple meals for the family when my mother remained out of doors every month. He had no outside  interests in life. Home and office were the only two things he knew. Whatever he earned was spent on the family. He had only 3 or 4 sets of clothes and hardly spent any money on himself. As he could not complete college education  he was hell bent on giving a good education to his children. I can never forget the day when he jumped with joy shouting , `All my sons are graduates` when my youngest brother Seshadri  got his B.Com degree.

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 My father had a split personality. He was bonhomie and fun personified to friends and relatives outside the home. Popular as ‘Ranga’ among his friends or as ‘Rangu mama’ among his nephews and nieces he would regale them with his jokes and repartees. Every time he visited Madras to visit his relatives he would be seen doling out one rupee coins to all the kids. One rupee those days went a long way, when a Masala Dosa was priced at 4 annas (25 paise)! The kids would love him for this gesture. However, the moment he stepped into the house he would become a ‘Rudramoorthy’ - very angry with his wife and children for things they have done or not done. He would be constantly bawling at some one or the other, whenever he was at home. Later, he would not spare even his grandchildren of this treatment.

He had an obsession for cleanliness – he would wash his hands, his dinner plate and the stainless steel tumbler which were exclusively reserved for him several times (nobody dare touch it even by mistake) even though they might have been already cleaned by my mother. He preferred to eat alone and at fixed times of the day. He had no patience to wait for everyone to assemble at the dining table. I have probably inherited this trait from him. Even by mistake if someone used his things he would scream at them. He believed in washing his own clothes every day which habit he continued until illness overtook him.

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An incident that happened immediately after my marriage helped me see the softer side of my father. Within two days after my marriage in Chennai on 26th January,1972, the family left for Bombay where a grand reception had been planned at the auditorium of R.A. Podar College, Matunga, my alma mater.

 It was my dream to have my wedding at this hall, but instead I had my wedding reception which was attended by almost all my friends and my father’s friends. The reception surely must have cost my father a ‘Bomb’ ! But he did not seem to mind it, as he had taken a voluntary retirement from work and had got a good settlement. For the first time in his life, he had cash in his bank account! That evening he was surely a proud father, walking across the hall, attired in a steel grey suit, greeting friends and colleagues and enjoying the encomiums he was receiving from every one.

Three days after my wedding reception, Prabha and I left for Delhi. I vividly remember the scene at the Bombay Central station, where my whole family and some friends had come to see us off. My father, who had never expressed his affection for me openly, became emotional that evening! He held my hands tightly and said, “Son, I am sorry that I have not done much for you. But with God’s grace you have done well. I am proud of you and God Bless you with a happy life!” While saying these words he broke down! I was moved and that incident marked the beginning of a new relationship with my father whom I always considered to be a tyrant!

My father – A helpful soul!

My father was very helpful by nature. When both he and his elder brother Venkatraman were staying at their eldest brother Gopalan’s house in Madras looking for a job, they were most of the time penniless. Yet, whenever my father got some money from his godmother ( Chengamma) living nearby, he would give it to his brother Venkata so that he could buy some essential things for himself. “This generosity shown to me by my youngest brother in his equally placed distressed position can never be forgotten’, wrote my uncle Venkata in his autobiography. Being generous beyond his means in helping others is a trait my father inherited from his father Rama Iyengar which was also the reason why like his father he was perpetually in debt throughout his entire working career. Unlike my grandfather who could never  return the loans he took which led to the creditors attaching his family property, my father was very particular in returning loans he took on promised dates. The sympathetic accountant in his office would help him with advances against future salaries. I always felt that he was forever angry and tense at home because of the constant financial pressure he faced in life.

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 In life my father  was an extremely cautions man not willing to take any risks. When he faced any problems, he would imagine the worst case scenario first,  before he moved forward to find a solution to the problem. The Tamil phrase ‘Munn Jakiridhai Mutthanna’ aptly fitted him. With ‘Courage as my Companion’ my tendency to take risks in life often conflicted with his views on many matters leading to some tension in our relationship. Within three years of starting my advertising career when I decided to move to an independent flat, he refused to move the family with me saying that as against the rent of Rs.20/- he was paying for the chawl accommodation, the rent of Rs 400/- I was paying for the flat was way too high. According to him, if I lost my job for any reason the whole family would be on the streets. But to his credit I must admit that he never prevented me from taking whatever decisions I took in my life.

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Among his four children, he was very fond of his only daughter Prema. She was his confidante. Very often he could be seen pouring his heart out to her. I remember on the last day of  his life he made my sister sit next to him and complained about my mother. Poor soul, in spite of her trying to be a pious and loyal wife he never seemed to appreciate my mother as much as she deserved. But interestingly when they had to live separately on occasions they would miss each other badly. The shouting matches between them continued even after the grand children arrived. Provoking my artist daughter Kavitha, presenting them with a special Greeting Card on their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary: It showed a Boxing ring in which the caricatures of her Thatha and Patti  facing each other with their boxing gloves on- the line at the bottom of the illustration reading, ‘ After 50 years we still don’t know who the winner is!’

Though we had never seen him being openly affectionate towards his children, he was a different man when it came to his grandchildren. Since he had already retired by the time his first grandchild arrived, he had all the time in the world to indulge them . He thoroughly enjoyed his grand parenthood.

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He was a voracious reader. Not of books but newspapers and magazines. As an advertising man I used to get dozens of newspapers and magazines as free voucher copies. He would stack them date wise and read every paper and magazine from beginning to end religiously, sitting on his favourite easy chair. At the end of the day he would declare proudly, ‘I have finished reading all the papers today’.

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 He was very meticulous and systematic in whatever task he undertook. A stickler for time management he would be seen constantly chasing his children or his wife reminding them about their assigned tasks. His penchant for anticipating problems in advance and taking action to face a difficult future situation was evident when he decided to install a bore pump in our house just a couple of months  before he passed away.

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 My father had  a major surgery in December,1993 at the Tamil Nadu hospital. After a traumatic experience in the hospital where he stayed for 15 days he returned home to recoup and recover from the dreaded cancer. While in the hospital, he was touched by the fact that over 70 relatives and friends had visited him, reflecting his popularity among them. Though initially he showed signs of some recovery, soon his health started going downhill and he probably had a premonition that he would not live long. He insisted that we perform a Homam on his 79th star Birthday which happened in April that year to which he wanted all his family members to be invited. He was particular about the family photograph taken after the rituals.

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 2nd October,1994-The last day of his life is still vivid in my memory. Though my sister, who was based in Bombay then, had booked her train tickets to visit my ailing father only the following week, a premonition made her decide to take a  flight to be with him on the day he died. He made her sit next to his bed and kept talking to her the whole day, reminiscing and recalling the incidents in the life gone by.

Around 9 p.m. he began to feel  restless. He asked me to call for an ambulance and get him admitted to a hospital, as he anticipated problems which may need emergency treatment. The whole family gathered around him. My wife Prabha was chanting some slokas. I returned to be with him after making the call to the Hospital for an ambulance. He continued trying to talk to Prema, who was sitting near his head. At one point we realized that he had stopped talking and his open eyes had frozen while  looking at Prema. We tried to shake him up without any response. Though I called for the doctor living near our home to confirm his death, I realised that my father’s soul had departed from his body through his eyes and he was no more. A noble soul had joined Guruvayurappan, his  Ishta Deivam (favourite deity) in heaven without seeing the thousand moons.

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All his children claim to have learnt good values from him. I would like to list the following values I learnt from my father’s life. Being honest & straightforward: Unshakeable faith in God; Constantly seeking the Divine Grace (Kadvaul Anugraham) and Elders’ Blessings (Periava Aashirvadam); Being helpful to others in need; Valuing relationships.

As a person who is already on the last lap of his life journey, I hope I have lived up to my father’s values. I believe that is the best tribute that I could pay 

Monday, December 7, 2020

My experience of Writing a Novel and marketing it!

As I have said  often, my new avathar as a writer / author post retirement  began with the success of my autobiography published in 2009. Since then I have published ten books including my latest novella titled `Durga Nivas- biography of a building`

Writing the  novel has been the most difficult of all the books I have written so far. Let me elaborate. Out of three alternative plots  I had in  mind  I chose the one based on my experience of living in a chawl for the first 26 years of my life in Bombay. It provided me an opportunity to vividly describe the lives of nine families coming from different parts of India and living  like a joint family on the first floor of a fictional building housing the chawl.  A classic example of Unity in Diversity. But I found writing the novel sitting at my home was not working out as it requires the author to get totally immersed in the plot and the characters. This  was not possible because I was also managing  my portion of the  independent house I was sharing with my son. Resulting in constant disturbances. So I started writing the novel whenever I was travelling sitting in the hotel rooms  where I was staying.  Initially I used to write by hand and later feed it into my computer. Very often I could not decipher my own hand writing leading to frustration.  It was a slow progress because,   the long gap between travels  would have broken the chain of thoughts. In two years I managed to write only 12,000 words. 

Then the pandemic happened.  I was staying with my elder daughter when the  first lockdown was announced. Her apartment block on Santhome High road was located adjacent to the Marina Beach with a beautiful view of the Bay of Bengal from the bedrooms. Besides you could view the sunrise every morning. With such an idyllic setting and with my daughter, son in law and grand daughter   taking care of me I found total freedom to plunge into the world of the characters of  my novel. In three weeks I managed to write 22,000 words. It was amazing.

While writing the novel, though I had an overall idea  of what I had in mind, I could never plan the details of each episode. Every morning when I started pounding on my lap top the ideas simply flowed. The fact that in the last one year I had graduated from handwriting to directly feeding the matter into the computer, helped.

As Jayakanthan the well known Tamil writer once said that `the characters in  novels  had a life of their own and authors did not have control over them; they were not puppets to be pulled with a chain` I experienced this while writing my novel. Most of the conversations/dialogues between characters were not pre planned. They just happened.  Unlike my essays           which undergo several revisions before I finalise a piece, I did not have to make any  major changes to my original idea  of the novel. 

I circulated the first draft to my family and a few friends. While I received overall appreciation for the novel as  most found it engrossing, some pointed out a few  inconsistencies in terms of names, timelines. Some even suggested recasting the order of the presentation. I then got a professional editor  to go through the novel. She helped me fine tune the presentation and also made several corrections without affecting the flow of the novel as I had visualised. The whole process  took almost five months as the draft saw at least three revisions by the copy  editor.

Once the manuscript was ready I approached my good friend Diwakar of Compuprint , specialising in Digital printing and Print on demand facility, for printing and publishing the book. Things started moving fast. Based on photographs of a typical chawl shot by my bother Seshadri, the dynamic team at Compuprint came up a with a striking design for the cover and a pleasing page layout. Diwakar also agreed to publish the book under his banner Creative Workshop and look after  the requirements for uploading the novel on Amazon, FlipKart and on Kindle. Ashwin of Odyssey Book Shop agreed to sell the book in all branches of the shop in Chennai & Coimbatore.

Since physical meetings were out of question for a formal launch I decided to announce  it on my FB page and also use  the direct mail route to reach all my contacts through email. I also decided to offer my  friends who wanted signed  copies of my book to place their order  directly with me  with a promise that I would courier the book to them at my cost.  The response  has been overwhelming. I was touched when a few friends decided to order extra copies of the book to be gifted by them to their friends. The fact that the entire proceeds from the sale of the book will go towards the activities of Prabha Rajan Talent Foundation(PRTF) is also helping  the sale of the book. Within a three weeks  of the launch I ran out of stock and had to order for reprints. I am yet to reach out to  a large no of friends in my network.

As many famous authors have said , if a book has to sell well the author has to market it shamelessly. And this is what  I am doing as I also have a target to reach for PRTF.  PRTF is an unregistered Trust without any bank account.  All the contributions for the PRTF activities are funded from my personal earnings and as a matter of policy I do not accept any direct donations.  The only exception is when I sell my books to readers and spend the entire proceeds towards the activities of PRTF. Here my view is that I am giving some value to the buyer of the book and it  is not a direct donation.

Judging by the number of unsolicited favourable  reviews  I am getting I am sure I have a winner on  hand. Though I have received a couple of critical reviews about the unconventional presentation,  the majority of the readers have found the book `unputdownable ` As one reader wrote, `Overall,the book is  a breeze and good read with some element of anticipation. I finished it in  one sitting`

Readers who have knowledge of life in Bombay are particularly  finding the book  nostalgic. If you buy the book I promise you value for money spent.

Priced at Rs 290/- the book is available on Amazon & Flipkart and also on Kindle. If you want a signed copy from me I will be happy to courier the copy at my cost. For online payment details please connect with me on rvrajan42@gmail.com