One of our pastimes while in the US is to meet VIPs. Before you start guessing if VIP denotes political heavyweights, business tycoons or Hollywood celebrities, let me clarify. In my parlance it just means Visiting Indian Parents. Plain and simple. We meet them in the park, and exchange pleasantries. So far we have met two families. Reddy-garu with his family from Hyderabad is on their maiden trip, swearing at the same time, ‘never again’, for whatever reason. The other is a young Punjabi lady, a teacher for special-needs children, married to a TamBrahm. Most of these meets fade into oblivion, but some culminate into a longer lasting relationship.
One such was with the Srinivasans. What a telepathy. They too are here on a visit. Srinivasans are a happy-go-lucky couple. A self-made man, Srinivasan set up a small-scale industry in Chennai after a brief employment in a manufacturing company, while Mami stood firmly by him. Together they made valiant efforts to get a foothold in the industry, which they did. Now, in their seventies, they sold the company with goodwill. Reason? “Have made enough and to spare, Sir,” he confides as he checks his mobile for credit of all his monthly mutual investment dividends.
Renewing acquaintances with US-based seniors is another activity. We met the Ramabhadrans. He recites Rudram, Chamakam and other Vedic hymns to perfection, while Mrs Ramabhadran regales any gathering with her wit and humour. Then comes Shri Sudarshan Singh Ahluwalia and his wife. A retired IAS officer with no snob appeal, the two are soft-spoken personified. On every visit he drives us to the local Gurudwara on the hillock. But this time Mrs Singh is down with a spinal cord problem. Also, on the threshold of 90, his son insists on him to avoid driving.
Mr Warrier is one who is a must visit. We exchange notes on the top Malayalam movies, the ratings of others, as well as the websites where buffering is less pronounced. As he chats, he is busy either ‘brewing’ the tobacco under his palm with the thumb or operating with ease his ancient betel nut cutter to pop up measured wafer-thin betel nuts. He has a good stock of betel leaves whether he is in Phoenix or Columbus. This time, however, we will visit his son Ramesh - to offer condolences. Mr Warrier breathed his last suddenly as the family was gearing to celebrate his 90th birthday days later.
We stay in touch with the animal kingdom too. Perhaps it is only in this part of the city that that we see bunny rabbits move freely as members of the household.The bushes in everyone’s front yard are their habitat where the younger ones play innocently minding their own business oblivious to what might lay ahead the next moment. Yes, the coyotes, ‘a wolf-like wild dog’ from the nearby downhill make rounds occasionally for an early morning breakfast of them.
On one such morning walk I got a call from my daughter in law driving to office. “Appa, I spotted a pair of coyotes in our neighbourhood. Can you please rush back home and be with Ashwin as he waits for the car-pool to school? Acchan ichchichatum paalu, Vaidyan kalpichatum paalu (Father desired milk, and Doctor also happened to prescribe milk), I said to myself. A would-be man-on-the-run becomes a Protector.
Morning or evening, one can’t help brushing past dog walkers. A lady with her aged dog stopped by to greet me. Nice of her to have recognised me, I thought. No, it was just the result of an eye-to-eye-contact greeting. “Derrick is too old now; he can’t hear, nor see - just managing himself,” she said. For a moment I wondered if she meant her husband at home or the dog. “But,” she continued, my other dog, a young one, keeps me on tenterhooks.”
“Make new friends, but keep the old; those are silver, these are gold”, I recalled my jotting on the last page of my SSLC English text book in the 1950s, as I pressed the doorbell to the eagerly waiting Aunty - for her second coffee, I mean.
V V Sundaram
