"They asked me to buy a cycle for Rs.150/-. I refused; My boss enticed me saying I can get enough bribes to pay it back. I decided not to do it and walked everywhere till I could afford one", said thatha(Grandpa). I was listening intently to his stories.
I don't know the man well, yet I secretly admired him. He was my dad's uncle. I know my dad had a secret admiration for the man as well. As we laid him down one last time, after that dreaded virus corona had already taken the life out of the body, I decided to let open the secret.
He came from a very poor family. Lost his father early in life and had to work and discontinue studies during the initial days of engineering to support his family. Yet apparently he was so good with everything he did that his friends and the village elders supported his studies which enabled him to become the man he finally became.
To become a civil engineer with the government in the early years of Indian independence would have been a blessing. India was buzzing with a lot of activities and he was in charge of building a few dams in my state. He climbed up the ladder quickly and very soon had the reach of the upper echelons of power. Yet, he never misused it. He was so particular that he never even used his official vehicle for anything personal.
When I, as an arrogant young man in my early twenties, wanted to build a small bridge in the remote village of Assam, thinking I know it all and had it all sorted, he gave me a lesson in humility and work ethic I could never forget. He gave me the design I wanted, to the 'T', every line in its place. He was in his 70s then. Retired. This work of mine should have been the last thing in his mind. Yet, he gave his all. The bridge still stands. I proudly claim to the world, I built it. There goes one secret. It was thatha's!
He had cancer for a year. Yet every time we went to see him, he never flinched. His face was calm and serene. There was never panic. The world around him shouted imperfection; craziness; loud white noise; Yet the man never showed anything on his face.
After the dreaded virus had come and he knew the end is near, apparently the same calm remained on his face. "I have lived my life, I know where I'm going, let me go peacefully", were his words when the doctors suggested some surgery to help him out. And peacefully he did go! In fact, I have never been part of a more peaceful funeral. It was all so calm. It was all so quiet. The man reflecting life even after death.
Goodbye, great man Perhaps knowing the destination was your answer to life!
