Bye Memphis, and Martin Luther King

Dark clouds and rains reigned supreme in the last ten days. The sun relented at last and showed up yesterday. A restless, guilt-ridden Arvind, walked back and forth the living room murmuring: “Too bad. Today is their last day in Memphis, and I have not taken Chittappa and Chitti (Chacha, Chachi) on any pleasure ride except to the Christmas parade. The other few drives have been for the essentials – Pharmacy, Indian Store, or Whole Foods.” 

Thus, at the prospect of a shiny day yesterday Arvind jumped up and said: “Chitti, Chittappa, if you both get ready in another fifteen minutes, I can drive you to Dr Martin Luther King’s memorial. And we did.

“That’s Martin Luther King’s memorial,” pointed Arvind from afar.  “But Arvind, the sign-board reads Lorraine Motel,” I said. “Yes Chittappa, but it was in this motel he stayed last to address the Memphis black sanitary workers’ gathering. 

I had just a superficial idea of Martin Luther King’s contribution in the 1960s to the Civil Rights Movement. But my blood began to boil when I read some of the inscriptions or documents on display  – copy of a sale deed where an eight-month old baby was being sold to be groomed for slavery; or the grueling voyage of the slaves from Africa across the Atlantic where 20% of them died en route - some refused to eat, others jumped overboard preferring to die rather than face continued horrors.  

West Africa was the victim for slavery. By the time of the Civil War, America had nearly four million slaves. When the founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence in 1776, 539,000 people – 20% of the new nation – were held in bondage. The document’s author, Thomas Jefferson, himself owned more than 600 slaves during his lifetime…

The museum also displayed Mahatma Gandhi’s bust at a vantage point alongside his oft-repeated quotation: “Be the change that you want to see in the world.” Elsewhere his principle of Nonviolence to achieve national goals was highlighted. Yes, Gandhi ji had a lasting influence on Martin Luther King. 

The designed route finally took us to the room Martin Luther King had last stayed and the balcony in front. It seems he reached out to the balcony chatting with his friends, when the assassin waiting in the hotel diagonally opposite Lorraine Motel ready with the gun to shoot Martin Luther King, made no mistake.

The killer, James Earl Ray, was a prison-escapee. He had checked into the hotel earlier with an assumed name and selected a room that suited him best for the evil act. He fled the country but was captured in London, extradited, tried, and sentenced to 99 years imprisonment. He died when he was 70.

There was total silence in the car when we drove home as though we had just attended Martin Luther’s funeral ceremony itself.  Yes, there is a reason. Unlike many museums, this museum was in the very place where he was shot dead. Also, the animation and display compelled you to live the situation. There was an incident when a black lady deliberately occupied a seat meant for the Whites. When the driver ordered her to vacate, she refused and was arrested. The same bus is on display with a dummy lady and driver. When I boarded the bus and walked past the lady-statue, suddenly I heard the driver roar, ordering to vacate or face arrest. For a moment I thought that on alighting I might be arrested. Yet another bus that was partially set on fire and damaged in an agitation was on display… Precisely why we were still living the moments.

But I broke the ice with the Mahabharata words: “Yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata, abhyutthanam adharmasya, tadatmanam srjamy aham” - whenever evil (adharma) becomes dominant in the society, the God will himself come to this earth to restore dharma.” In this case probably God sent his deputies, Abraham Lincoln, Mahatma Gandhi (his South Africa days), Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King, and they eradicated slavery, apartheid, and racial discrimination, to perfection. Moral: Nothing is permanent; only change is.

Jab jab jo jo hona hai, tab tab so so hota hai

Everything is pre-ordained in life. Things will happen the way they should and at the time they should – immutable. Yes, that is what I piece together from the intermittent chats I had with Arvind between his Work from Home calls and meetings. 

In my last article, Holiday Within Holiday…, I shared with you how Aunty and I lend a helping hand to Arvind and Sreelatha in Memphis as Sreelatha braves the aftermath of her brain-tumour surgery.  

Nine years ago, Arvind was posted to Memphis in USA for an IT project with FedEx. He completed that long ago but stayed back in Memphis and oversaw his company’s other operations from this small city, more because both his boys are in good school and he didn’t want to disturb that. 

A final decision taken, the next step was to plan things on a long-term basis. First, it was time to change the car. They bought a new one in May. They had a re-look at their SUV; it was bought just two years ago and needed no replacement. 

Next, to look for a bigger house. Enough of this apartment home, rented mainly because it was close to FedEx. That is of no consequence now. They did a thorough search and identified one by an accredited builder - a vast 4500 sft independent house, 3-car garage, huge front- and backyards, six bedrooms and 4-1/2 bathrooms (the fifth one has no bathtub, hence termed ½). They booked it in the first week of June. Everything on the dot. So far so good. 

Two weeks later Sreelatha gets a seizure necessitating a host of medical tests. They drove straight to the builder and explained to him the situation. “I fully understand your predicament. For me, it’s a model house at a vantage point and it will sell like hot cakes. No issue,” he reassured, and asked them to request in writing so that he could initiate refund formalities. A beaming Arvind and Sreelatha walked out of his site-office, “Chalo, ek mota kaam to nipat liya. Now we will concentrate fully on treatment.”

The house they had selected was next to the site-office. So, before getting into the car to return home, the duo said, “Let’s have a look at what progress they have made since we saw it last.” Saying so they walked into the house. They were awe-struck at the marvel of the house, its get-up and what they would miss really. They changed their mind once again and dropped the cancellation idea. They paid the requisite money and completed registration. A few days later they moved much of their household belongings.

Now come the medical test results. First, a surgery to remove the tumour. Then a biopsy. The result of that will decide the further course of action. Biopsy showed malignancy, and here is Sreelatha now on chemo-, radio-, and rehab-therapies, and blood transfusions at regular intervals. 

Again, change of mind. Friends of nine years in the gated community will take care of children when Arvind and Sreelatha go for tests and treatment, will drop and pick up from the bus stop, will keep them in their house till Arvind and Sreelatha return, etc. In the new place, they know none. What if there is some emergency. Thoughts began to hover over Arvind’s mind. On top of that the elder son in his adolescence has his own friends circle here. He is firm he won’t move out of this community. “I can solve one problem at a time,” Arvind told himself and started with the easiest - brought back the moved household goods and put up the new house for sale.

Now it is nearly five months after the surgery and Sreelatha is still on therapies. On the brighter side, she goes out for a walk on her own, packs breakfast for the two boys (she knows what they like - or don’t like) and is all set to enter her next phase of life – getting back to normal. As a first indication, starting from 19th it will be Christmas vacation for the kids. We go back to Phoenix on the 18th, and the next day Arvind, Sreelatha and the two kids fly off to Arvind’s elder brother’s place in Virginia returning in the New Year – a fresh and rejuvenated Sreelatha. Probably such a situation will trigger Arvind and Sreelatha to have yet another, and hopefully a final, rethinking to move to the new home in the New Year. 

Umeed par duniya kayam. 

Holiday within Holiday - Sone pe Suhaga

To be in US with sons and grandchildren is itself a home away from home - from the already retired and relaxed life in Bangalore. If we get to be with my brother’s son and children in another city in US, it becomes a holiday within holiday. And to top it, if that visit is business-cum-pleasure, it is sone pe suhaga. 

Yes, we are now here in Memphis, Tennessee State – a three-hour flight from Phoenix -  to spend some days with my elder brother’s son Arvind, his wife Sreelatha and their two sweet children.  Just ‘sweet’ will be one-sided; add ‘naughty’, and it will present their picture in full. But then what is childhood without being naughty.

Business trip - on retirement? You might wonder. Yes, getting up one morning as usual, Sreelatha found her hands shivering. After a host of medical tests and examinations, she underwent a blood-clot surgery at the head. She is now convalescing. We are therefore here in Memphis to help the family in whatever way possible – Aunty taking over kitchen, and me trying to keep the kids in good humour, playing cards and board games and getting defeated, sometimes deliberately. Consequently, the children no longer want to play with me. “Thatha does not know how to play.” So, in comes Paatti with her professionalism in whatever she does. And they get defeated too often. They don’t want that situation either. We are working a via media. 

This might be our Nth visit to US. But we have never heard of Memphis. Only on coming here and being taken around places we realize it is the birthplace of Martin Luther King, the champion of civil rights movement in the 1960s. It is also the land of the famous singer Elvis Presley. “On the flip side,” continued Arvind, as he drove us past along a plain, vast well-laid road with forest-like trees on both sides, “Memphis is third in US in crime rate, ranging from just pick-pocket to….” No sooner he uttered this than my hand stayed stuck involuntarily in the pocket where the wallet is.

While a visit to Martin Luther King’s museum is on the cards, we are yet to take a call on Elvis Presley’s. Meanwhile we have already covered the Christmas parade. It was a treat to the eyes watching children of various schools marching past playing different bands, the Fire Department (a star attraction all over US for some reason), decorated vehicles representing hospitals, paramedics, equipment manufacturers, fitness centres, NGOs, and what have you. Gay and merriment was the name of the game.

For some inexplicable reason, a visit to the local Gurudwara Sahib has become a must during our visits to US. We have gone to the beautiful abode in the hillock in San Jose, and the vast one in Phoenix, and now to the medium size, but meticulously maintained Gurudwara Sahib over here. For a Sunday, much against one’s wishes inclement weather prevailed throughout, but it did not deter us from venturing the thirty-minute drive. Sreelatha placed a much larger amount than usual, probably a mannat, and prayed a little longer, to get fit sooner than later. The langar was simple but tasty. Yes, it always is – be it the Golden temple in Amritsar, or any of these shrines in US. 

It is also our practice (for Aunty or me, or both), whether in Phoenix, San Jose, or in Memphis, to join when someone from home takes the car out – to Costco, Indian Store, Wallgreens, or for a doctor appointment, or to drop children at the school bus stop, or the school itself when missed the bus. Here it is accompanying Arvind only. Alas, Sreelatha has been advised not to drive for some time.

This morning while watching Arvind and Sreelatha get the children ready for school, Aunty and I re-lived the experience of the tantrum children throw, reminding us of the age-old saying ghar ghar ki kahani, and asserting that no one can escape it.

Just two days of our stay, and it was nice of Sreelatha to share with us a whisper talk her younger son had with her yesterday: “Amma, will Thatha and Paatti go back or will stay here?” “What do you want them? Go back? If so, I will ask them,” Srilatha quipped.  “No, no, I want them to stay here.” That was nice of him to feel so, although he is yet to establish a full-fledged rapport with us, as is the case with the elder one