A drop of tear for my Damodaran Potti

 

I did not want to go there as I did not want to see Potti’s motionless body. I did not want to see his face without that eternal smile on his lips. The smile that spoke a thousand words. The smile that won many a heart and demolished many an adversary without uttering a word. Yet I went there as I knew for sure that Potti would love to see me before leaving. He was just peacefully sleeping. But with that missing smile, was that my Potti? I don’t know. My mind was still shuttling between reality and a refusal to believe it. Standing beside him, did I hear someone saying that Potti  departed after a heart attack? Very much possible. How could his slim body house such a big heart. Yes, he was incredibly large hearted. It is an irony of fate that there were people (very few of course) who could not understand the depth or vastness of his love. It is equally incredible that he could overcome hate with love. After all, love was the only language he knew.That sparkle in his eyes, those soft words he uttered, that smile that radiated love: Oh God, all these not any more?

Only those close to Potti knew him as a humourist. Of all the dimensions of humour he perhaps lacked just that clownish one. Most often his humour carried an element of the intellect. Self ridicule may sound clownish but it is possible only for those who are very confident of themselves. I remember the following incident. Potti was a PG student of physics in CMS college during 1986-88. The students of that class were on a tour to Kodaikanal along with some teachers. The students were engaged in some games in the Kodai garden and we all went back to the Kodai guest house where we were staying. Next morning Potti came to my room and said, “Sir yesterday Mini (P T John Sir’s daughter) lost her mutthumaala while playing in the garden. She realised of the loss only after reaching the guest house. She asked me to accompany her to the garden. But since it was too dark by then and after all it’s only a mutthumaala I discouraged. I thought she could buy a new one during the next Thirunakkara Utsavam. But Sir, she now tells that it coasts a few thousand rupees. Sir, will a mutthumaala cost ten or twenty thousand rupees?” This mutthumaala was a pearl maala! I sat wonderstruck by the Potti innocence. But in the years to come I had many occasions to realise that he was an incredibly strong personality who chose to remain behind the veil of innocence. He knew a lot on a variety of topics. He had a lot to speak. He never tried to impress anyone. But whoever came across him was won over by his purity of thoughts and the romantic beauty of the words he chose while speaking even casual things. His dreamy eyes spoke all that he wanted to speak. But did everyone hear those unspoken words? I doubt. He never complained and was a very contended man. While talking he was never in a hurry to stop. “But dear, didn’t you leave a little too early, in a hurry”.

Long back, once I met him near the Thirunakkara temple. Then he was working with the AHUJA company. He was their engineer responsible for the acoustics of big auditoriums in different parts of the country. I asked whether he was happy with the job. The answer to my question was so characteristic of him. He said. “ Sir, sabdathinte ardtha thalangal manasilaakki cheyyan aanenkil, dharalam cheyyanuntu” ( Sir, there is a lot to be done if one works understanding the nuances of sound). His employers might not have wanted him to go this far. But Potti with his sincerity and his eternal quest for perfection would go farther. These are virtues not often or never appreciated or applauded. But Potti never  worked to impress a boss. He was his own boss. Any work he took up, was done with the same devotion with which he performed poojas at the temple.

Let me come back to the tour to Kodaikanal. We all were having some exciting times at Kodai. During one of those ecstatic moments Mohan Kurien Sir’s then small little daughter Mini addressed Potti as Pottichayan. After that moment, Potti was Pottichayan to his class mates and we teachers. It is over three decades now. His name is saved as Pottichayan on my mobile phone. Some four or five years back we had this conversation.

“ Potti, I have saved your name as Pottichayan on my phone. I am going to change it as Potti”

“Why Sir?” He asked

“Potti, when we gave you that title you were a boy. Now you are a man, in fact a senior man. I should not take your name lightly.”

With his characteristic smile he replied,

“ You are not taking it lightly. That title carries the weight of love. Don’t change it Sir ”.

I did not change it.

I might not call up that number again.

But that name will never be deleted. That cannot be.

'Kabhi Alvida Na Kahena'.

"No Byes For You Potti'; Oh no .Pottichaya .........

Reema Poddar

 

Since March this year when the first of a series of locks down were declared, people are literally confined to their homes. While the young ones work from their homes the retired ones like me leisurely engage in whatever is of their liking. Though I am still busy with online teaching, I too find some time for leisurely engagements. Very often I slip into the slope down the memory lane. Most of these lanes criss cross  the CMS college campus or emanate from there. Most of the lanes that go out end in Kodaikanal, my dream destination. Yes, the annual tours with the PG students were something that I enjoyed most. I used to tell my students that they have every right to enjoy for five days after working hard for three hundred and sixty days. During my strolls down the memory lane these days, I reached places like Kodai, Ootty, Mysore etc. And at each of these places I relived those days singing, dancing, sitting beside the fire in biting cold etc. On the latest stroll, I was with the 1989 batch of PG students. A few days back I had received a message from Suresh Thomas of that class. (There was another boy in the same class, James Raj who appears in one of my earlier posts – “Note for sale” posted on Sept 25, 2017).

So we start. Our destination was Mysore. We could have taken the MC road route but we decided to go to Ernakulam first so that we can pick Thara from there. Thara was with this class for her first year MSc but shifted to Maharaja’s college after getting married to an advocate stationed in Ernakulam. The rest of the class wanted Thara also to be with them. We teachers also liked the idea. I think Thara was not informed earlier as others wanted to surprise her. We reached her home at about nine in the evening. We teachers waited in the bus and the students went in to surprise Thara and pick her too.  After some half an hour or so they all came back but the excitement was missing. Thara too was missing. “What happened?”, we kept asking. But there were no answers. Suddenly a girl came forward and told me “ Sir, woh nahi aathi. Uska shape badal gaya”. This girl was Reema Poddar. We proceeded without Thara.

For every annual tour one student is selected as the treasurer. The selection was often done by Devassya Sir. After the tour he would demand a detailed financial statement correct up to several decimal places. Convincing Sir was not a easy task and the selected students were very careful. Sir’s principle was that while dealing with public money we should be correct up to the n'th decimal place. Suresh was ordained as the treasurer of their tour. While others enjoyed, Suresh kept writing essays which were detailed accounts of the expenditure. We all felt happy as Devassya sir, who also was with us, will have nothing to say this time. Many things happened during the tour. I think I shall narrate those in another post.

We were on the last stretch of the tour. The students were singing, dancing and rejoicing as if there won’t be another day like this in life. And this boy Suresh continued with what he was doing all these days; essay writing. Just four or five kilometres to Kottayam he completed his job, folded the paper(s) he was writing on and just when he was trying to put it into his pocket the wind blew it off into the dark. By the time the driver was alerted and he could stop the bus it had gone forward a quarter mile at least. We realised that it made no sense to go back and search in the dark. All celebration came to a sudden halt. Everyone looked at Devassya sir. He was deep asleep. People asked. what next? Will there be any next at all? Unfazed, Suresh said “don’t worry, carry on”. That brought great relief to all. In a few minutes we were back in CMS college. All of us alighted the bus, but Devassya sir was still asleep. Someone woke him up. He turned around and seeing Suresh, said “ detailed account day after tomorrow”.

A day later Suresh came to the Physics department with a piece of paper and handed it over to Devassya sir. All of us remained very cool as we knew that, given his nature, Suresh would certainly have had some back up material. Indeed he had. Sir showed us the detailed account. It read:

Cash in hand at the beginning of the tour  = X

Cash in hand at the end of the tour             = Y

Therefore expenses (X-Y)                          = Z

We all prepared ourselves for the worst. But to our surprise, sir had a smile and asked “what happened?” The story was narrated to him. I am sure that with any other treasurer in such a situation sir would have let loose all hell.

But then, for his friends and teachers Suresh was Mr Honesty.

And today, Mr Honesty is Captain Suresh of the Indian Navy.

Every tour with MSc students was memorable in many ways. During this tour I was very happy as I could talk a lot of Hindi with Reema. I was so fond of Hindi and what I missed most in CMS was someone with whom I could talk in Hindi. Another thing that made this tour very special was some 'unprintable Rajalakshmi innocence'. She kept making innocent statements and really wondered when others laughed. Thus she turned to be the unwitting humourist of the tour party. Our driver Mr Saju was an exponent of folk songs. If I remember correctly, one of these songs landed Reema in some trouble. (or was it a story we spun? I don’t remember). The song was the following.

“aalappuzhakku pokaadi Mary, vellathi chaady chakaadi Mary”. Back in the Lea Hostel Reema was singing this song and suddenly the hostel warden appeared before her. To those who know the iconic Miss Mary, I need not explain anything.

Now what prompted me to write this note. The message I received from Suresh was an incredible story about Reema. She is selected as one among the top Asian-Americans. Yes, she is in the big league of Indra Nooyi, Sundar Pichai and Satya Nadella. Last year she was selected as one of the most powerful 50 women in Technology in the US.Yes, she is on the top of the world.

Proud of you Reema. Next time in Kerala, why not a visit to your Alma Mater? Technically speaking, I have no capacity to invite you to CMS. Yet I do that as who else can invite you dear to CMS with the same fondness?

Come surely. Standing in this campus with closed eyes and meditating you still feel all those sublime virtues this campus has valued as its life breath for over two centuries. Anyone with the faculty to feel the 'beyond' can hear those Sloks;

Slok of love, compassion, equality, unity, liberation from ignorance and what not?

Come Reema. Come with your Slok. And of course Kiran.