PATTAR AND THE PROFESSOR

PATTAR AND THE PROFESSOR

(Adversity & prosperity never cease to exist. The adornment of great men’s minds is to remain calm under both.)
-Tirukkural-12:115.

It was one of those Sunday mornings when every thing seemed to go at an easy pace. I picked the newspaper from the doorstep and settled down when the phone rang.
“Hello”. I said.
“Hello, uncle! Shankar here from J…….” said the voice at the other end.
“O hello Shankar. How are you?”
“I am fine uncle. I thought you should be the first person to know that I have passed my C A Exam in the first attempt!”
“Congrats, Shankar. So when are you sending me the sweets?”
“Only, if you come here. Thanks a ton uncle for all that help on ‘Cash Flow/Fund flow lessons’. We all miss you, uncle.”
“Say hello to dad and mom”, I said and replaced the hand set.

Shankar is the second son of Prof. K……., the then HOD faculty of XYZ…….. Engg, at one of the Colleges of Engineering at J………. Let me call him ‘K’. Soft spoken, suave, elegant and urbane, he is a walking, talking computer with phenomenal memory. Always well dressed, he loved to flaunt his dark RayBan glasses like M G R almost as if it was his trade mark fixture born with him. His first son D….. an eminent engineer is married and well settled in USA. His first daughter, P……. an accomplished vocalist too is married and well off. Another daughter G…….afflicted by juvenile arthritis must have settled too.
“And now the naughty Shankar about whom the professor was so much worried has made it good after all.” I said to myself after the phone call. Then like an avalanche my memories flashed back to those old days at J……… when fate brought me close to this person.

CUT TO J………… DAYS

We had just moved into R…….. a civil area and getting to know our neighbours. My daughter meanwhile had found a willing and accommodative friend in Shankar who lived opposite our Govt-hired-Bungalow. And as always, the children hit along very well indeed even before the elders could say ‘hello’ to each other! Unlike my Sahadharmini, I am an introvert and take a long time before I break the ice with strangers. My in-laws too from Mumbai were there to help us settle down. And we gossiped, laughed and watched the world pass by from our verandah which provided a beautiful view. Every morning, the Engg. College bus meant for the students would stop at K’s door step. It will wait for him to get in and settle at his window seat. His wife would hand over his Tiffin-set and wave him a fond ‘bye’. In the evening, just prior to dusk the lady would take the car out to pick up K. Sooner he arrived, a ceremonial tea and biscuits session would be laid on the lawn. This was followed by a brisk walk by the couple taking their Alsatian out. This was a routine executed with clock work precision each day.
“Such loving couple”, commented my M-in-L.
“Must be the effect of Samasaptamam”, put in my F-in-L.
“Enna…. You could take a lesson or two from them!” my Sahadharmini volunteered some free advice for me.
“He must be either a stingy fellow not to use his car or he wants his entire family’s service at his beck and call to loll in luxury like this” I protested.

Our next door neighbours were Shekhawats. They were merchants and very friendly. Their son Rajiv is a gem. He was in the first year of Engg. He would speak about K with rapturous admiration. He was all praise for K.
“Prof. is too good, uncle. None of us ever misses his classes. He makes things so easy. He knows by-heart the entire Electrical Machine design book. He would always ask one of us to come to the board and solve the problems. He would dictate notes extempore. Those notes are better than any guide available in the market.” And the ravings would go on and on about the Professor.
I finally decided to take the bull by its horn. Whenever I did, I had that uncanny knack of landing up in thick soup. This time was no exception.
“If Mohammad does not go to the mountain, let mountain go to Mohammad”, advised my F-in-L.
So I decided to pay a courtesy call on K’s that evening along with my wife. And I never knew that this visit would change my attitude towards life totally. When we landed at their gate, they were about to go for their usual evening walk. Their Alsatian dog Lassie barked furiously.
“Namaskara! We just moved in…… across the road, in fact”, introduced my wife.
“Yeah, my son Shankar told us. Air Force- aren’t you? ” queried Prof. K
“Yes sir,” I said extending my hand expecting a warm hand-shake.
BUT K WOULDN’T JUST SHAKE MY HANDS!!!.
I was upset and felt insulted and got ready to find an excuse to go back.
“Won’t you come in?” that was Madam K as if making amends.
“Please do. My wife makes the best filter coffee in this area. Ha Ha Ha”, said K.
“No thanks. Some other time may be. We just wanted to say ‘hello’. More over, it is time for the Municipal water tank to arrive”, I said irritably and departed.
We reached home in no time.
“So, how are K’s?” queried M-in-L when I came home.
“Very rude, snobbish, and uppity. No class! Amma.” said my wife angrily. She went in to make some coffee for all of us. This was perhaps one of the rarest of rare occasions when we both agreed on a view point.
“Yeah? Can’t believe it. They looked alright to me”, said my F-in-L.
“But Appa, the guy did not have the courtesy to shake hands when I extended mine to him”, I complained to my F-in-L.
“How could he have Appa?”, that was my daughter peeping over her Enid Blighton’s Famous Five Novel.
My daughter has this habit of doing several things all at a time. And she is good at pulling the carpet under your feet; a trait she has inherited from her mother.
“What do you mean?” I shouted at my daughter. “And by the way, when elders are discussing something, you better keep your trap shut”
“Appa. You keep telling me things. Now it is you, who do not ‘look beyond the tip of your nose’ as you often say!” She was serious this time.
After a long pause she said, “Shankar’s dad is BLIND in BOTH EYES! Happened long time back. Some ‘retina –betina detachment’ - so said our friend Shankar. So uncle couldn’t have seen your extended palm for a hand- shake. You see?”
That was my daughter 3 feet nothing teaching me a lesson in human behavioral science.
The Tsunami came crashing on me. My legs gave way. There was this uneasy silence in the room. Time stood still, until my wife gave a call: “Enna…… coffee is ready. Vaarungo.”
“No thanks”, I said haltingly. “I shall grab that filter coffee with K’s after all”
And I trooped out to ring his door bell at “Anukampa” one more time.

Epilogue

(Hard things are just put in our way, not to stop us, but to call our courage and strength)
-Anonymous.
(Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is”
-Maxim Gorky.
I was to learn later in bits and pieces from madam S…. (Mrs. K) this incredible story.
It had been almost five years since K, fifty or so then, became blind. Due to a medical misdiagnosis he had been rendered sightless, and suddenly thrown into a world of darkness, anger, frustration and self-pity. Once a fiercely independent man, K now felt condemned by this terrible twist of fate to become a powerless, helpless burden on everyone around him.
‘How could this have happened to me?’ he would plead, his heart knotted with anger. But no matter how much he cried or ranted or prayed, he knew the painful truth that his sight was never going to return. A cloud of depression hung over K’s once optimistic spirit. Just getting through each day was an exercise in frustration and exhaustion. And all he had to cling to was his wife S….
S…was an ordinary Kannadiga housewife. She loved K with all of her heart. When he first lost his sight, she watched him sink into despair and was determined to help him gain the strength and confidence he needed to become independent again. Her rural background had trained her well to deal with sensitive situations, and yet she knew this was the most difficult task she would ever face. Finally, K felt ready to return to his job. The University accepted him with his handicap, but how would he get there? Here was some one used to driving himself, was now to take the bus, but was now too frightened to get around the college by himself. S…. at her old age soon learnt driving and volunteered to drive him to work each day, At first, this comforted K and fulfilled S's need to protect her sightless husband who was so insecure about performing the slightest task. Soon, however, S realized that this arrangement wasn't working - it was hectic, and costly. K is going to have to start taking the bus instead, he admitted to himself. But just the thought of mentioning it to him made her cringe. He was still so fragile, so angry. How would he react? Just as S predicted, K was horrified at the idea of taking the bus. "I'm blind!" he responded bitterly. "How am I supposed to know where I'm going? I feel like you're abandoning me."
S's heart broke to hear these words, but she knew what had to be done. She promised K that each morning and evening she would ride the bus with him, for as long as it took, until he got the hang of it. And that is exactly what happened. For two solid weeks, S…, accompanied K to and from work each day. She taught him how to rely on his other senses, specifically his hearing, to determine where he was and how to adapt to his new environment. Each morning they made the journey together, and S…. would take an auto back home. S… knew it was only a matter of time before K would be able to ride the bus on his own. She believed in him, in the K she used to know before he'd lost his sight, who wasn't afraid of any challenge and who would never, ever quit.
Finally, K decided that he was ready to try the trip on his own. One morning before he left, he threw his arms around S…, his temporary bus riding companion, his wife and his best friend. His eyes filled with tears of gratitude for her loyalty, her patience, her love. He said good-bye, and for the first time, they went their separate ways. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... Each day on his own went perfectly, and K had never felt better. He was doing it! He was going to work all by himself!

"Sir, I sure envy you.” I said during one of our tete-a- tete.
Professor wasn't sure if I meant it or not. After all, who on earth would ever envy a blind man who had struggled just to find the courage to live?
"Why do you say that?” he asked.
"It must feel so good to be taken care of and protected like you are.” I responded.
"What do you mean?" K asked
"You know, every morning standing across the corner watching you when you get on the bus. S…. makes sure you cross the street safely and she watches you until you enter your bus. Then she blows you a kiss, gives you a little wave and walks away. You are one lucky guy, sir." I answered.
Tears of happiness poured down K's cheeks. For although he couldn't have physically seen her, he had always felt his wife’s warm presence, he later said.
“I am lucky, so lucky, for she had given me a gift more powerful than sight, a gift I don't need to see to believe - the gift of love that can bring light where there had been darkness.” Then he sprang a surprise. As though pre-planned madam K brought his violin.
“It’s only last two years he has been practising”, said madam K politely.
And he played a beautiful tune for me.
“Enri?..... Gothaa?.. Enu raga?.Can you guess the raga?” he asked.
“Gothu saar gothu. Ummm…. Panthuvaraali na?” I replied.
“Boy you are ok”, said my friend Professor K…….approvingly.

From then on I never failed to stop by at his residence “ANUKAMPA” to listen to his playing violin as I savoured the filter coffee of madam K.

V V R (a retired Air Vice marshal)
24th Jun 2005