On my periappa's passing

On my periappa’s passing

I lost my Periappa last Sunday. I did not think his> passing would hit me as hard as it did. I spent a> day in quiet meditation melancholic over the somber> tone that my life had taken. I had to be all grown> up now. My father and his brother grew up very> close. However, later years were marred by sibling> rivalry with each vying with the other to get the> more attractive wife, the better career, better kids> and in their later years more numbers of letters to> the editor published. While the families remained> close, the brothers were barely civil to each other> and wrote each other scathing notes. Then there were the occasional arguments over the> phone. In later years, the families learnt to watch> on with amusement. However, I realized how close> they really were when my father suddenly succumbed> to cancer and passed away within two short months of> his diagnosis. My periappa, his senior by 5 years> never did overcome his death and lived for another> three years incessantly expressing his shock over> the sudden passing of his brother. He appeared to go downhill> from then on. It almost seems now like each had> needed the other to achieve what they did. They did> it for the other’s attention. > > My periappa was a monumental influence in all our> lives. He was brilliant and courageous, an original> thinker and visionary. He was an artist and> cartoonist who attained great fame as a political> satirist, with cartoons published in several Indian> publications, Life and the New York Times. His> friends were the “who’s who” of the old Madras literati. He was widely admired. He was not always popular since he spoke his mind and his words were often sugar coated bitter pills. It was his abiding passion to bring out the best and worst in people that imbued him with this desire to needle them and watch. He has brought forth many a tear with his constant demand for excellence. He treated us as his equals in age, regaling us with tales on many topics that are still taboo in our tam brahm circles. He practised yoga before it was fashionable and spoke fluent French even though he had never traveled outside India until after he was 50 years old. He also went on to establish one of the first computer centres in India His commitment to education and passionate zeal to better lives lead him to become a distance education entrepreneur. On his later travels he is known to have cartooned his way in through customs – he would literally sketch people as he stood in line much to their joy and wonderment. In many ways he was my mentor and guide and perhaps the most influential person in my life. He made me believe in the impossible – after all had he not gotten up from the depths of debt induced penury to become a very wealthy man by the age 60!