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My Father was born in June 1914 and died in May 1994. A full 80 years in between.
He died in what can typically be described as a 'natural death' in bed in his own cherished home in Gudur where he settled after his retirement. The school which he headed there was the biggest in the Nellore District. It was in doldrums when he was posted there in 1964 just 5 years before his retirement. He turned it around and quit as a much-feared but much-admired HM. Gudur folks were happy with him...he was too scared to be corrupt and too adamant to be 'influenced'.
He gave us a good fortnight's lead time before he left his wife, seven children, their spouses (spice?), their kids, in-laws and out-laws who flocked to Gudur during that fortnight. He was shouting in his stupor at 3 AM at the infernal noise made by the roving procession of a Village God escorted by a huge melee of devotees, mikes blaring recorded filmy songs, and the 'dhaba-dub' of double-bombs launched by revelers. And at 4 AM when we looked him up in his cot, he was no more...died quietly in sleep.
Being the only son, it fell to me to do the obsequies of which I knew nothing...I was away in Bengal for all of 3 decades by then. But my B-i-Ls arranged everything and I had to just obey their commands...a happy setup for a laid-back chap like me.
The next day's local Telugu Daily carried his photo with a blurb. It was a pleasant surprise to me....my youngest sister had inserted his Photo-Ob.
And speaks volumes of this ephemeral voyage of ours.
The left is a picture of a girl who passed away at the tender age of 17, 4 years ago. It is inserted by her grieving family members. Those whom Gods love most die that young. Nothing more is posted about her.
The right is that of a Guru who lived to the ripe age of 84. It is inserted by his Disciples.
The contrast is stark as you can see from the composition of the two images.
The old man had earned lots of awards and titles for his eminence in astrology and wisdom (jnanam). These are very nice and resonant in Sanskritized Telugu printed above him:
Kanakabhishikta,
Brahmaratharoha Sammanita,
Gajaroha Sammanita,
Gandpendera Vibhushita,
Simha Talatalankuta,
Jyotisha Mahamahopadhyaya,
Jyotisha Kalaprapoorna,
Daivagna Sarvabhouma,
Sri Vidyopasakadyumani.
I had spent a rich half hour trying to make out the lives of the two.
About this patram (leaf) there is a nice story in the Telugu folklore. Apparently, two of Sri Krishna's wives, Rukmini (ahem!) and Satyabhama had a bet as to who loved Krishna more (or is it the other way round?). To settle the issue, it was suggested that Krishna sit on the left pan of a beam balance and each of his two wives take turns at weighing him down with their cherished treasures.
Krishna agreed (why not?). Satyabhama loaded the right pan with all her gold ornaments and more and more but the left pan didn't budge...the gold went up like its price now.
Then came the turn of Rukmini (who was just a homemaker unlike Satyabhama who killed Narakasura the day before Diwali). She just plucked a Tulsi-Leaf (patram) and prayed and placed it on the right pan; and Krishna shot up like a surprised jack-rabbit.
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My Father was born in June 1914 and died in May 1994. A full 80 years in between.
He died in what can typically be described as a 'natural death' in bed in his own cherished home in Gudur where he settled after his retirement. The school which he headed there was the biggest in the Nellore District. It was in doldrums when he was posted there in 1964 just 5 years before his retirement. He turned it around and quit as a much-feared but much-admired HM. Gudur folks were happy with him...he was too scared to be corrupt and too adamant to be 'influenced'.
He gave us a good fortnight's lead time before he left his wife, seven children, their spouses (spice?), their kids, in-laws and out-laws who flocked to Gudur during that fortnight. He was shouting in his stupor at 3 AM at the infernal noise made by the roving procession of a Village God escorted by a huge melee of devotees, mikes blaring recorded filmy songs, and the 'dhaba-dub' of double-bombs launched by revelers. And at 4 AM when we looked him up in his cot, he was no more...died quietly in sleep.
Being the only son, it fell to me to do the obsequies of which I knew nothing...I was away in Bengal for all of 3 decades by then. But my B-i-Ls arranged everything and I had to just obey their commands...a happy setup for a laid-back chap like me.
The next day's local Telugu Daily carried his photo with a blurb. It was a pleasant surprise to me....my youngest sister had inserted his Photo-Ob.
And then there were several visitors to our home on their condoling missions. They were all people of the town who knew him and whom he knew, but none of us knew them...they were his admirers when he was a HM 25 years ago.
I thought it was a nice thing to happen...there was no other way we could have informed them of his death.
Since then I had a weakness for scanning the Photo-Obs in newspapers. Nowadays DC has at least 10 pairs, most of them on its Page 4. And since I have nothing else to do but blog, I spend half an hour viewing them and reading the blurbs. It has become my hobby.
Not that Death fascinates me anymore than Birth and Marriage, the three epochal events in our life on this earth. They have this other thing in common...sooner or later (better soonest after the event), you have to do several rounds of the Registrar's Office in Hyderabad unless you have 'contacts' and a gold-lined pocket.
I find the variety in the Photo-Obs very riveting. And most of these Page 4 People are younger to me nowadays. And that sort of leaves me with mixed feelings.
Today's top pair is amazing in its total contrast:
And speaks volumes of this ephemeral voyage of ours.
The left is a picture of a girl who passed away at the tender age of 17, 4 years ago. It is inserted by her grieving family members. Those whom Gods love most die that young. Nothing more is posted about her.
The right is that of a Guru who lived to the ripe age of 84. It is inserted by his Disciples.
The contrast is stark as you can see from the composition of the two images.
The old man had earned lots of awards and titles for his eminence in astrology and wisdom (jnanam). These are very nice and resonant in Sanskritized Telugu printed above him:
Kanakabhishikta,
Brahmaratharoha Sammanita,
Gajaroha Sammanita,
Gandpendera Vibhushita,
Simha Talatalankuta,
Jyotisha Mahamahopadhyaya,
Jyotisha Kalaprapoorna,
Daivagna Sarvabhouma,
Sri Vidyopasakadyumani.
I had spent a rich half hour trying to make out the lives of the two.
RIP
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I spent a lot of time hesitating if it is proper on my part morally and legally to post the above pictures, and decided that I would be doing no wrong.
As for moral infringement, I am sure I didn't make any. The pictures are already in the public domain and are meant to be viewed and the obits read by as many as possible...and I am making just an incremental addition to the viewership.
As for legality, I don't know if DC holds their copy right. But I am making no material profit out of it. I haven't 'monetized' my blog...I don't make a single rupee out of it.
Well, I did get a $1 note from Saswat but that was charity...for buying a 'seeing-eye' dog. But that is like the 'patram' in the shlok that starts with the famous line:
"Patram Pushpam Phalam Toyam"
Bhagavad Gita 9-26
Krishna agreed (why not?). Satyabhama loaded the right pan with all her gold ornaments and more and more but the left pan didn't budge...the gold went up like its price now.
Then came the turn of Rukmini (who was just a homemaker unlike Satyabhama who killed Narakasura the day before Diwali). She just plucked a Tulsi-Leaf (patram) and prayed and placed it on the right pan; and Krishna shot up like a surprised jack-rabbit.
Moral:
$1 >>> Rupee 1
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