In a strange coincidence, as I was walking out of the Kanakabhishekan function, I got a call saying that another friend, Raghavachariyar, who I treat as a brother and is 99 years old had come to Chennai for cancer treatment. I was told that the doctor was not keen on the treatment but his son R Narayanan, who is a senior corporate leader, insisted that he take the 1% chance. Fortunately, he recovered dramatically. His son has been looking after his parents now for decades.
I share a thick bond of friendship with Raghavachariyar since the past 55 years. My pilgrimage to his home every year has given me strength and wisdom. It was sheer Luck that I had come down to Chennai and could meet Raghavachariyar. I felt fortunate to have got the darshan of two rishis on the same day.
My relationship with this 99-year-old ‘Sir’ goes back to more than five decades, when I had found shelter in an orphanage called Sethu Bhava Sathram in Mannargudi, a small town in Tamilnadu. I had run away from home as my parents could not afford education beyond the village school. Hence, I was pursuing my IX and X Standard here. Since the orphanage was crowded, we were all required to sleep in a verandah and a small hall. The study environment was not favourable. I therefore put up a request to ‘Sir’ who was the owner of Jayalakshimi Villas Higher Elementary School which was near the orphanage. In fact, the school was enroute to the National High School where I was studying.
“Sir, can I read and sleep in the school at night, as in any case it is vacant during those hours?” I had asked one day. He agreed, and thus began a relationship which blossomed so fragrantly that I was looked upon as a family member. The school premises was a haven for me, flanked as it was by banana and coconut plantations, with a small Ganesh Temple in a corner, amidst the lush surroundings. I was often treated with coffee, idli and medu wada by his wife and daughters. What’s more, I became `Balu’ to my ‘Sir” and to his six children – three daughters and three sons.
As I was waiting in the car to meet him, I was praying for his good health. The moment he saw me he jumped very excitedly and said, “Balu, God has sent you here; I desperately wanted to see you.” Here’s where I say, his faith in me is overwhelming.
There is an issue involving property worth around Rs 20 crore. He insisted on making me one of the stakeholders. When he had told me about his plan a few months previously, I had resisted and had quietly returned to Pune.
“You are the Mama (uncle) to my children. You should be with Narayanan to do justice to all. I have become old so I would like to distribute my property,” he reiterated. I looked at him and said, “Sir, why are you worried, you are going to live for 125 years.” At this came a repartee, which seemed like a rebuke: “Take him then to your home. Who is going to look after him for so long?” I was stunned, I felt hurt that the old man seemed like a burden to others around him.
The immense faith that he reposed in me made me feel like I was crowned with the title of `Bharat Ratna’. However, I am now caught in a Catch 22 situation. On the one hand, the emotions of the grand old man, his trust and faith overwhelmed me. On the other, the sudden rift that has come about due to his wish to make me a part of the share (which I’ve refused time and again and continue to do so) has created uneasiness in a relationship that was otherwise flawless. Such is life! Money can be a real spoiler!
Dr (Col.) A. Balasubramanian
editor-in-chief
