Dear MS Srinivasan ji,
Delighted to read your mail and the outpour of gratitude - doesn’t matter mistaking me for 'Cleveland' Sundaram. I am not Cleveland V.V. Sundaram. In fact I am yet to visit Cleveland in life. I am just V.V. Sundaram - with no prefix or suffix. And if you insist I might at best be hailed Vadakkanthara Sundaram. Even when on phone with bank or airlines, to help them get my initials correct I avoid the customary prompting, V for Victory, again V for Victory, lest it mistakenly boosts my ego that it has been victory all the way.
This is not the first occasion that I have been mistaken for Cleveland V.V. Sundaram. When I was looking for a bride for my second son, I got a call during my post-retirement stint in Geneva, and the girl's father spoke to me somewhat like intimate friends - just short of vaada, poda. I just couldn't figure out. I even wondered if any of my friends were playing pranks with me. Sensing a lack of enthusiasm in my response, he ultimately enquired if he was not speaking to Cleveland Sundaram. I told him I was WHO Sundaram. I hesitated even this prefix, because I ran the risk of being mistaken for a popular and Geneva-born-and-raised Sundaram in WHO.
On the brighter side, and in strict confidence, naming myself as WHO Sundaram did pay dividends. When my wife was looking for a job to last my temporary assignment in Geneva, she got a call from another UN agency. The Personnel Officer interviewed her along with a host of others, and offered her the job at a higher grade than advertised. I was very sure he had mistaken my wife, Lalitha Sundaram, for someone from the other Sundaram family. Yes, life does offer favours occasionally, mistakenly though.
The other occasion when I benefitted by mistaken identify was when I was constructing my house in Delhi. It was numbered 8/13, in a co-operative house building society. The Society president's daughter's house was numbered 13/8 - just the reverse. The President, it would seem, had kept all the housing department officials in good humour, and in return got all the favours for his relatives. So when I went to get Certificate for having completed the job up to the door level, the official saw the house number, got up from his seat, and ordered tea for me. He asked his assistant to issue the certificate on the spot telling him that he had already inspected the site the previous day. And I walked out with the certificate, feeling on top of the world.
But every dog has it day. He realized his mistake, though it was late. So, when I went for the Completion Certificate - the final contact with them. he ripped me off pointing out mistakes after mistakes at every nook and corner of my house. I was in a fix. Fortunately, one of the resourceful house owners came to my rescue. He knew of a house with similar deviations having been given the completion certificate. "You just quote it, and see how they refuse it." So did I, and got the certificate in a week's time.
Sorry for this divergence, MS ji. Nice hearing from you thanks to Cleveland Sundaram. Just to refresh your memory, I am the same Sundaram who spoke to you a couple of years ago when you were in Chicago, all set to take off for Pune the next day. Rings a bell?
Best regards.
V.V. Sundaram
03 January 2012
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