Kaka

My father was always called 'Kaka' (uncle) by everyone as far as I know. Only his older brother ("dada") called him by his name Vishwanath, at least in my lifetime. Called kaka by his neices and nephew, the name stuck, and I suppose my brother, upon being able to speak, assumed that that was his name. I followed along, as did my sister, as little brothers and sisters tend to do.

Kaka died in 1992 at the age of 74. Born in 1918, though officially stated as 1920 for the typical reasons in India - to get into school, to graduate at the right time, or to delay retirement. Anyhow, 17 years have passed since he died. My son Nikhil has never known him. I wish he had - I worry that not seeing and being with people like him will leave Nikhil with insufficient role models. The combination of intelligence, good humor, serenity and simplicity is something I have not seen in very many people. Of course I am biased in this view. He had his flaws, I am sure, but they were hard to see from my perspective as a child.

I remember asking him, when I was about 5 or 6, "don't you ever get angry"? I was genuinely puzzled that he never even raised his voice in anger at me, far less raise a hand, when I knew that I had behaved like a brat, which I often did as a kid. And I had seen some of my friends get whacked by their dads for lesser misdeeds than mine. A man of few words, he was silent for a few seconds, then said, "what kind of a man is he that never gets angry?"

I do not recall a single lecture from him about anything. He never told me how to live my life, how to solve problems, how to anything. He would come home from work on his bicycle, give us screaming kids a mini ride on the bike if we happened to be in the vicinity and demanded it. Then a cup of tea, and he would be in the garden, digging, watering, or simply smoking a cigarette and gazing at the plants in silence. The plants thrived under his care, and so did we. Just knowing he was around somewhere was the greatest feeling I remember as a kid. Modern self-help books go on and on about unconditional love - I was lucky enough to have experienced it, and even the memory of it helps when I am feeling down.

It is always hard to do justice to someone's life writing about it through one's limited perspective, so I will not try. My intent is to merely share some random thoughts about my own experiences with people as they occur to me. More about my memories of Kaka later, whenever I find the time to write about them.