The Matchmakers

57 years ago, on Wednesday, the 26th June 1963, we (I and Rajani) got married. 

Ours is an arranged marriage.  And the credit for its success goes to the two Matchmakers who discovered that we were made for each other.

One of the two MMs was Kumud Annachatre, a distant sister of mine. She was a doctor, and while pursuing her studies fell in love (like what most Doctors do) with another doctor in the making. He was our second MM, Mukund Deshpande.  After getting degrees and marrying, Mukund opened his private dispensary and Kumud joined the KEM hospital.  Both of these were located near our residence, 26 Rasta Peth.   

Kumud was very fond of my parents, especially mother.  She started frequenting our place for all sorts of reasons: breakfast, lunch, dinner, or just for the sake of meeting us.  She was extremely talkative and fun loving.  I knew her from childhood. Her brother, Padmakar, was once living with us in Thane, while doing his apprenticeship in Mumbai.   It was he who introduced me to Hollywood movies and English literature.  

Mukund was a distant maternal uncle (Mama) of Rajani.  He was equally talkative and had great persuasive skills.  Had he not entered medical profession, he would have been a great HR person. He hailed from Karad but then, for Kumud’s sake, settled in Pune.  He was also a social worker, taking interest in the lives of his poor patients. He would often be found providing more counselling than medicines to them in his dispensary.

So he started visiting 26 Rasta Peth with Kumud as well.  He also fell in love with our parents and our family.

I soon became his friend and started visiting his dispensary.  We would discuss on a variety of subjects. Sometimes, my cousin brother, Madhukar also joined us. Slowly, an idea germinated in his mind: why not arrange a marriage between Rajani and me? He started sowing the seeds of this in the minds of Rajani, her mother and grandmother.  He had a good rapport with them and they slowly agreed to give it a thought.  The moment I submitted my thesis to the University and got an employment in Gokhale, he and Kumud pounced on me and my parents with this idea.  We were not very enthusiastic about it but then agreed to have a ‘kanda pohe’ session that they arranged.

I went to Rajani’s place with my father and brother.  She, typically her head bent, brought in dishes of Shira (rather than Kanda-pohe) and answered the usual questions of my father.  The mission proved a total disaster!  I said no, I am not going to marry. Mukund asked me, why not? I said haughtily, I did not like marrying just on the basis of one meeting where I could barely see the face of the girl.  The matchmaker Mukund said no problem. He arranged the meeting of two of us, of all the places, in KEM hospital.  Kumud let us in in her clinic there and left on some pretext. Then I said one meeting was not enough.  No problem, the MM replied nonchalantly.  He arranged another meeting in the Lucky restaurant at Deccan Gymkhana.  He got us seated in a ‘family room’ and went away.   Still a couple of meetings were required to take the monumental decision, I told him.  Again, no problem! He would bring Rajani on a scooter to his dispensary and keep two of us in the examination room while he saw his patients in the waiting room.

I was exasperated by all these meeting places. I knew, if I asked for more meetings, he would take us to Sassoon hospital or to an Amrutatulya hotel.

In the meanwhile, the MMs had already got our parents on their side.  Rajani too joined them. Enough of these meetings, she told me sternly.

I gave in.

Thank you, Dr. Mukund and Dr. Kumud.  Your diagnosis was correct. 

26 June 2020

 (The painting is by Archis Kulkarni. Specially drawn for the blog)

 

My father's Father's Day

My Father’s Father’s Day

पिता स्वर्गः पिता धर्मः

Long time ago, on 10^th August 1910, was born my father, Prabhakar Vithal Kulkarni.  We will be celebrating his 110^th birth anniversary this August.

I do not know much about his school days; the only thing I knew was that he had to leave his education when he was around 20, when he lost his father, and had to search for employment. He got a job of a junior clerk in the Income Tax office.  He got married in 1930 and lived in Pune –Thane – Pune in rented premises.  

He lived simply and linearly.  His meager salary was the only source of income. Within that income, he provided board and accommodation to several friends, relatives, other and us - the six brothers and sisters.  He did not find any necessity of owning a house or purchasing simple things like radio and phone.  He raised us frugally and left, when the Call came on 18^th Jan 1972, leaving behind nothing material.  It was a simple life, nothing remarkable in it.

We all his six children love him immensely.

And one of the reasons for our love for him is, his love for his father, Vithal Balkrishna Kulkarni. 

Of course, we never met his father, our grand-father.  But there was a big photo of his sketch (the real photograph was probably non-existent), framed and hung on a wall in the living room along with photos of deities like Dutta. Every Thursday, my father would place garlands on all these photos, including the one of his father, and offer Puja.  At the end of it, there was Arti.  My father had composed an Arti for his father which he lovingly recited on the occasion.  We children, along with our mother, would stand in the semi-circle and join the Puja. 

This routine was followed by him every week till his death. We still remember this Arti by heart.

I never came across a son doting father in such a way.  Putting father on a Pedestal, composing an Arti in his honour and treating him like a God was something unique.

I tried to ask him about it.  He would just brush the question aside.  I asked my mother.  She had no answer, either. 

What kind of a relationship was this?

I tried to look to the Grandfather. He looked little strict in the photo that hung on our walls. 😦

To the extent I knew, my father had a very short company of his father, not more than 20 years.  He was a clerk in the railways, with a large family to support.   My father and his elder brother were educated till matriculation only.  So it must have been a tough life.  

There is one possible reason.  My father had a younger brother, named Manik.  He was quite bright, but died at a very young age.  My grandfather must have grieved his death; probably, he showered a larger share of his care and love on my father because of this tragedy (as well as my father being now the youngest child).     

Other than this, nothing much is known.  This love between father and son must have been very emotional, in small things, which probably cannot be remembered or told in so many words.

But whatever, all Thursdays are etched in my mind as my father’s Father’s Day.

 

 

Sunday, 21^st June 2020

A Letter to Vijay Chintaman Ranade

Our Dear Vijay,

On the morning of 20^th May, this year, you suddenly left this world.  It was a surprise for you and shock to all of us. Even after experiencing the grief and performing all the concomitant rituals during the last three days, we still do not believe that you are not with us.

Yes, you will never be far from us.  You are part of our life, part of our day-to-day celebrations, discussions, picnics and outings, get-togethers, and, really everything that gets included in this journey.  

You met us after you met Neela.  And immediately, you became another member of our family; a son to our parents and a brother to all of us.  We started sharing our life with you.  And so did you.  In the hospital, while signing on the Eye-donation form, the doctor asked my relationship with you.  I wrote brother, stopped and very reluctantly added the in-law thing. It was wrong, though legally appropriate.  If to be entirely correct, I would have written brother, friend, guide, teacher, a source of inspiration, …

No, I would not have been able to completely describe this relationship.  The language has many limitations.  Words are always inadequate to describe things like music, beauty and feelings. I feel completely lost. 

Vijay, you believed in everything that is transparent, honest and sincere. Your every action was transparent, honest and sincere.  We liked your smile, because your every smile was transparent, honest and sincere. 

And you worked hard; very hard.  For you, your work was sublime. You liked your chosen field, and you dedicated your entire time to this. You correctly defined the word career.  It is not running after money or position or power; it is achieving something that will take the mankind a step further. You worked very, very hard to provide precise, novel and unique solutions.  The roads and bridges that you designed are still testimony to what India can achieve.

And you were a born leader. You could easily build a team of honest and dedicated staff around you.  You taught them, guided them and inspired them.  It is a great feat in a bureaucratic organization.  Yet, you achieved it so brilliantly that literally hundreds of them still remembered you and paid their respects on your last day.

And like your father, you were a born teacher.  A picnic with you would never be just a picnic.  It would invariably include introduction with your friends and colleagues, explaining in detail the works executed by you with them, taking us to nearby or distant projects being currently executed and instructing to the staff what needs further to be done and why it should be done.  And we were always surprised by the visits paid by your staff (even after your retirement), which would wait for you at the rest house and seek your advice and guidance.  You showed us that the work could also be a pleasure and that the pleasure trip could also mean a field trip. 

You were a loving and doting husband. You trusted Neela to the end.  She was free to do whatever she liked and you loved what and how she was doing.  I will never forget the time when she was taken suddenly ill and had to be hospitalized recently.  You were restless, anxious, afraid..! And then the way your face brightened when the doctor announced that she was out of danger! 

You were also equally loving (and probably a little stricter) father to your two sons.  Although you had little time for them in their younger days, you saw to it that they got proper education, AND your values.  They are just like you, thanks to your and Neela’s upbringing. 

And then, you are blessed with charming and loving and equally brilliant a grandson and a granddaughter!  It was such a pleasure to see you performing the sweet role of a dear grandfather. 

Vijay, the going was such great that, really, we wanted some more of it. We wanted more time with you; wanted more outings with you, when the journey would take detours and you would show us different bridges and roads on the way; wanted more visits to the joints where they serve good fish and chicken; wanted more visits to your farmhouse where you would explain different trees that you had planted.  

And really, really, we wanted more smiles from you.  We wanted to have more positive energy from you.  We were so dependent on you.

Don’t say good bye, Vijay; just say, bye!

Arun and Rajani

September, the Miracle Month for our Miracle FAMILY

1st September. Time to change the Calendar Page. 

My Goodness!!! Look at the birthdays in the Month!  

We are 34 members in the family of  'Chinkura' (Chinchore, Kulkarni and Ranade), including our father, Prabhakar and mother, Kamal. 

And out of 34, as many as eight persons chose to get born in this month!! 

On 1^st September, both Ruta and Shruti got to this planet; while on 5^th September, Arun and Anita jumped in the bandwagon.  September was also the month of choice for Ulka, Sushrut, Sharvari and Neha.  

Is it an accident? By law of probability, maximum 3 out of 34 should have been born in any month. 8 is quite a large number, isn't it?

This is not all.

In our family of mere 34, in addition to Ruta and Shruti,  Balasaheb and his fond grand- daughter Poorva, and Girish and Supriya also share the same date of birth.  And additionally, Girish and Supriya got born not only on the same day, but in the same month and year. Anand-Aaditi got married on the day when Arun and Rajani were celebrating their wedding anniversary.

We are indeed a Miracle Family!!

Entering the Golden Jubilee of Enjoying Together!!

It was on 26^th June 1963 when I and Rajani tied the knot that is called Marriage.  So, today, we are celebrating the completion of 49 years and entering that Golden Year!! With all my hair turning, in the meanwhile,  from jet black to sporadic grey to eventually hundred percent silver.  Rajani, fortunately, still maintains her Mane black, but don’t draw any conclusions from this.  This is all due to her genes, which she has inherited from her mother.

Completing 49 years of married life and entering into fifties is really no achievement.  If both of you can leave for these many years, and do not get a divorce in between, it is automatic.  

Live we did for the last so many years is obvious.

But, why did we not even think of filing for a divorce anytime?

Look at our journey of these years.

The first five years are blissful.  You can go on looking into each other’s’ eyes (glasses or no glasses) and never get tired.  The next five or ten years, generally, are when the children arrive on the scene.  She changes the priorities.  You and your eyes lose their value; the little ones and their diapers are more important.  It is at this stage, you have to understand your place in the game.  You should not fight.  Rather, you should spend as much time as possible outside the home.  Keep enough money in the bank, replenish it regularly and sign on the dotted lines on the cheques – that is all you are expected to do.  This keeps the marriage safe, relatively peaceful, virtually happy and absolutely divorce-free.

The next ten years, follow the same routine; but reduce your expectations.  Hot tea not very hot, cold coffee still somewhat warm, children spending lot of time playing games instead of studying, the neighbour making lot of noise, …take everything in stride and smile away. Mum is the most important word. Looking like a fool is always wise in the long run.

Children are growing.  By now they know who the boss in the house is.  Earning bread is not enough.  You are expected to run and get the butter; then pizza.  Then Bike.  Then Blackberry.  Run, Henry, run.

Time flies.  Children marry.  And the grandchildren arrive.

Priorities change for both of you 360 degrees.  You don’t need each other.  You have found new exciting toys.  And the toys entertain you no end.

And suddenly it is 49 years.  You awake with a start.  Realize that you both are still there. 

You look into each other’s’ tired eyes after a very, very long time.  For a very, very long time.

And realize, damn it, it was not all that automatic.

The first five years were there during all these fifty years.

Thanks, Rajani!!

June 26, 2012

HAPPY 28,000th BIRTHDAY Arun!

In the wee hours of the dawn of today, even before the birds and bees had woken up and rubbed their eyes, my mobile made a shrill noise.  “Who is it?” I asked, mixing shrill and irritation in equal proportions.

“Happy Birthday, Arun Kulkarni”, the voice replied, mixing the synthetic Ho!Ho! with shrill in unequal proportions.

“Sorry, wrong Arun Kulkarni”, I was about to throw the mobile away.

“Wait, wait, Arun Kulkarni!  You are the Correct Arun Kulkarni.  You are celebrating tomorrow, that is on 3^rd May 2012, your 28,000^th birthday. Having completed 27,999 days of existence on this planet earth, you are entering a glorious 28,000^th day, tomorrow!!  Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Who are you? And how did you find it?”

“I am your student, Sir, TeerthPrasad Satyanarayanam!  You taught me Excel, you remember?  I am now in India’s most popular channel, Radio Chamcha.   Can you give us an interview, please, by way of celebrating this auspicious moment?  It will be relayed on your 28,000^th birthday, tomorrow.”

Who can say no to this?

I threw some water on my face, and told him: “Shoot!”

“How do you feel, when you realize that it is your 28,000^th birthday?”

“Well, I am forever oscillating between 28,000 leagues under the sea and 28,000 feet up in the sky. It is a huge Giant’s Wheel, this Life!”  I philosophized.

“Are you scared?”

“I am always scared of the immigration officer at the airport. Anytime, she may smile and tell me, ‘your visa has expired’”

.

“But, 28,000 days is a long way to travel.  Do you attribute it to any particular event or a person?”

“Yes, it is entirely due to an advice of my close friend, Balkya Akolkar, in 1960”

“Really?  Do tell us more about it.  Our listeners will be thrilled to listen to this story.”

 He appeared to be getting at last his proverbial byte.  I did not want to disappoint him.

“Well, in those days, I was courting a beautiful girl, a real heart throb, and had decided to tie with her the auspicious knot. Came Balkya, who made some investigations and told me, in a plain, simple language: 'Epya, don’t ever try to kiss an XXX of a camel.  Any Ph. D. thesis is much more romantic. Developing an Econometrics model is far more exciting than spending your honeymoon with this model, even if it is in Switzerland. If you are so desperate, I will gladly help you committing suicide by a more orthodox way than marring her.'”

“So, what happened?”

“Well, I believed in Balkya much more than the girl of recent acquaintance.  I said no to her.  And now I realize what a great wise man Balkya proved to be. Had I married her, my heart would have permanently stopped throbbing long back.  So I dedicate all these 28,000 minus Z days to Balkya”.   

 I spoke grandly, but avoided the temptation to ask him calculate the value of Z.

“Great!! And, now, the last Question.  How are you going to celebrate tomorrow?”

“Well, I have been watching this Sun Shining for the last 28 K times.  Should I perform a  28^th सहस्र-सूर्य-दर्शनम ceremony tomorrow? I must ask my Priest.  Another idea is to go to Microsoft Excel and find out, as on today, the age in days, hours and minutes of Rajani, Abhay, Anand,  Anju, Aaditi, Archis, Aryan, Krish, and all my brothers, sisters, their spouses, their children – the entire Kulkarni clan, and the Joshi clan, and the Chinchore clan, and the Ranade clan and other relatives, my friends, and politicians, and students like you, and your relatives, …..…

"Wow, this is a Super Idea…  I can go on with this activity, ever and forever… and cheerfully bombard all of you with up-to-second information on your anniversaries of birthdays, wedding days, engagement days, …

"Blast the Oscillations of Life and Go to Heaven, young lady at the Immigration Counter, with this kind of an Excel-ent activity, I can easily reach my 50,000^th Birthday!”

Did I hear a very loud crash on the other end of the phone line?

No matter! Even if you don’t get to listen to my interview on the Radio Chamcha tomorrow, you know what Day is tomorrow and who is celebrating it for what!!

You are welcome to visit me with any appropriate birthday gift, any time, any day!  Each Day, for me, is my Birthday!!!

2^nd May 2012

Getting Hooked!

How long is the duration between

14th January 1963 (our Engagement Day)

and Today?

Open MS Excel. It will tell you:

49 Years! "You are Entering the Golden Year!!!"

588 Months! "Already crossed 500!!!"

17897 Days! "Just 3 days short of 18,000 mark!!!"

Open My Cute Little Micro Micro Soft Memory Chip.  It will tell you:

All Calculations Wrong!!! "Its only One Day!!!!"

Thank you, my dear Rajani,

For letting me Feel, 

Every Day,

That it Happened 

Only Yesterday!!!!

Arun 

14th January 2012