Chandramama

K T R Menon, my ammaman

Chandramama as I call my uncle, turns 80 today and I have known him for 53 of those 80 years and it is my privilege to be his Niece.  When I started writing liked to believe that he inspires me to write and that in some way he is helping me in this effort.

My earliest memories of Chandramama are in his home at Barakhamba Road, where I used to go with my parents every weekend.  I remember him with his big mustache, which honestly used to scare me because my father did not have any facial hair, neither did my grandfathers have any.  Cigar dangling from his mouth, a cigar box on the table and him puffing on it till it lights.  I used to think it to be a fatter version of a beedi and my father confirmed it.  Chandramama always wore safari suits and a tweed jacket in the winter, polished shoes and was always extremely well dressed.  He would however always have the smell of cigars and even today when I smell or see cigars I remember Chandramama.

After Barakhamba Road, Chandramama moved to Ashok Vihar since Indirammai was a professor of Math at Laxmibai College.  We used to be in Rajender Nagar and one dayI decided to go to Ashok Vihar and stay there overnight.  My mother also agreed and I went there with a small bag with my clothes and tooth brush etc.  Half way through I started missing my mother and started sobbing and my eyes were watering, and when Chandramama asked me, I told him that something was in my eye. After reaching Ashok Vihar, I saw my cousin Deepu and recovered a littlest after dinner, the tears and the sobbing would not stop and he drove me all the way back home!!  For a long time he would make fun of me quoting this incident.

I also remember Chandramama being the only person to visit us when my father was ill with small pox and he would visit us every 2-3 days, check on us and leave.  He and our landlady Mrs. Sainani would be the purple to make sure we did not need anything and that we were fine.  Them and Dr. P N Seth.

Chandramama also friends with my father and my father taught him how to drive, they got their first cars, Standard Herald together, they had the same mechanic and they loved arguing politics but by the end of a heated argument (my father losing his cool) Chandramama would start laughing.  I think Chandramama realized that my father’s outbursts made me anxious.

Then there was the time when Chandramama and my mother, Deepti and I were in Guruvayur with Amumma for our vacation.  Deepti was six months old and her ears were to be pierced.  Amumma had scheduled for the ‘thattan’ to come to come home for the small ceremony and there was some good food cooked that day.  The ‘thattan’ came on time and being the ammaman he said Deepti should be held by Chandramama as the ‘thattan’ went through the process of piercing Deepti’s ears.  Deepti, the drama queen that she is decided to howl right when the piercing was about to start and Chandramama was very unhappy and yelled at my mother as to what was the hurry to make a child suffer and at the ‘thattan’ asking him why he had to do this so painfully.  The ‘thattan’ decided to go ahead and get the ears pierced and held Deepti’s face and did the deed.  One ear was pierced a little above the other one, an imperfection that my sister had corrected when she was about 30 years old.

Going to Chandramama’s house was my major social activity as a child and teenager the other being visiting Nirmaledati’s home.  All these occasions were for a good hearty leal, mostly dinner.  Then we were going up and grown up.  I got married and started working and Chandramama kept track of the companies that we worked in, in the meetings that he attended.  Once when I was working with Eli Lilly, Chandramama was on one of his visits to our home (he would often drop in from work), he mentioned that he was bored in a meeting and was switching off when he heard the name, Eli Lilly, and he just woke up and was all alert!!

Later, it was Chandramama, who told me that there seems to be something wrong with my father because he notices that my father could not out on his slippers.  He came with me to the first visit to the neurologist that he had found for us.  Thereafter he would come home often and call me at work ask me how things are.  Chandramama came to Bangalore when my father was in the hospital in his last days.  When he died, Chandramama went home to be with my mother and told me he would come to the crematorium for the rituals.  My biggest regret to this day is that I forgot that he would come back and we went ahead with the cremation.  Chandramama could not have that last look at my father.

Chandramama is one self made man, who left home at the young age of 16, moved to Delhi and worked to become a journalist and a good one at that. Honest and tough reporting is what he did.  I am so proud of you Chandramama and I love you.  Happy birthday and here’s to many more to come……