As you go on in years and you have the time to reflect upon what your life has been, you begin to appreciate how certain people have played really important roles in your life. In fact, your life might well have taken a completely different turn had these people not crossed your life path at the time they did. As I now sit back, I try to recall how each of them impacted my life.
Of course, it all begins at home. What happens in your home is what determines your outlook in life. Fortunately for me, my childhood was a happy one. The years after my birth were spent in Simla and then in Amritsar, and when I was about 5, we moved to NDA. I remember both my parents as being loving, caring, even doting. Daddy was a Professor, the only one among 7 or 8 siblings to have had an education. He was a double MA and English and French were his subjects. When I was about 3, he was awarded a scholarship to study at Sorbonne, France for a year, Mummy joined him in Paris for a while and that was the time I spent in Amritsar. Shortly after his return, Daddy took up a position as Lecturer in French at the NDA Khadakvasla and we moved there.
NDA, if you’re not a cadet, is a heaven on earth and as NDA Kids, children of officers, we led a privileged life. There were just 150 Families spread over a lush campus of 5500 Acres, completely safe, traffic and pollution free where everyone knew everyone else. Today I live in a High-Rise Condominium with over 1,000 families and I don’t even know my neighbour. The Campus was otherwise self-sufficient, but its distance from Poona and the lack of adequate transport facilities unfortunately kept us NDA Kids completely isolated from regular school friends. School was 20 Kms away and the NDA School Bus which was provided, dropped us to school 5 Minutes before the morning bell and headed back 10 minutes after the closing bell. Punctual like the Military to which it belonged, and if you missed it, there was no other way to get back home. The good part was that we had free access to all facilities which the academy provided for the cadets, be it swimming, tennis, squash or riding. While all that was good, sadly it made us miss out on the after-school camaraderie with other schoolmates or on sports and extra-curricular activities which usually happened after school hours. But it resulted in some very strong bonds between NDA Kids, the friendship, love respect and closeness that we developed for each other is unforgettable even today.
A few years ago, we organised a get together for the NDA kids at the NDA itself, it saw a huge turnout, was a great success, and brought back a lot of memories of the times spent together. Schoolmates who grew up together were now grey haired grandparents and the two days we spent in the place where we spent our childhood were memorable.
While the children at school came from varying economic backgrounds, another thing that set us apart was the near identical social and economic status of all our parents. None were businessmen, most were professors with similar salaries which left little room for non-essential expenses. Maybe that’s how we learnt to value money. But then again, there was no opportunity to squander either. The perks we enjoyed – be it swimming, cycling, tennis or hockey were free and kept us completely occupied in our after school hours. Even movies – and there were three different movies screened every week – were almost free. 
The beauty and safety of the environment made our parents trust us completely. Money was always in short supply and even things like clothes or shoes needed to be planned carefully and bought sparingly. School events or trips which needed contributions over and above the regular fees posed dilemmas. Money was to be saved wherever it could. Mummy would often embroider our school badge herself (not always perfect) rather than buy the mass produced professional one at the school shop, resulting in a 50 paisa saving. My trousers were often hand me downs, shoes were worn till the sole got a hole and even then was resoled at least once before it was replaced. Yes life was difficult, we could see all that but we would often fail to see the sacrifices our parents were making on themselves for our sake.
But if there was one thing that was a no compromise issue in our family, it was our education and all expenses towards it. ‘The only inheritance I can bequeath to you is a good education’, he always used to say. Many parents would buy used text books for their kids, but Daddy always insisted that a new class deserves new books and my text books have to be brand new. He would donate my old books including my notes, etc., to a colleague whose son was one school class behind me and the boy, who is now doing very well in life still remembers that. Supplementary materials, stationery, and other such needs were promptly provided. Like me, Daddy also loved Fountain Pens and it was he who taught me the knack of holding a pen properly while writing. The funny part is his hand writing was an almost illegible squibble while mine is a neat script. But then we never let his expectations down either. I was usually amongst the top three ranks in school, and almost effortlessly cracked the IIT Entrance Examination on the first shot.
He was never one for false pretenses. It didn’t take him long to figure out that I had started smoking while in IIT. You may think you are fooling your parents with that saunf and chiclets, but its not true. He told me I don’t like it, it’s a bad habit, but if you’re smoking don’t do it sneakily – if somebody complains Oh, I saw your son smoking I want to be able to tell them I know. And we would so often clink glasses together – no false kind of respect Oh I don’t drink in front of my father as many kids used to say. But of course, all this was only after I had graduated and was working while living at home with them.
In 1974, just a year after my graduation, when I left a good paying job at Bharat Forge to start STRAG Engineers, an independent business with 3 other equally ignorant colleagues, Mummy was in a panic. But he was cool and he told her, let him do it. He has no wife or kids, he’s living at home and he can take the chance. If he succeeds, good for him, if he doesn’t, he would have learnt an important lesson not to try this ever again like this. Six months later, seeing me frustrated, sad and angry at myself for having lost a good job, as also my independent earning position, he asked me if I had had enough. I said yes. Ok, let’s start looking for a job then. Coincidentally, some days later, he was in Bombay for a family wedding where he met Dr. Upendra Bhrany, a cousin who had just taken over as Managing Director of an upcoming mini-steel plant, Modella Steels and Alloys. They got talking, and Dr. Bhrany told Daddy about his new project and enquired if I would be interested to join him. Think about it, Daddy told me, but don’t take too long. Even my decision was quick. Yes. I want to get back to real work. Next thing I knew, I was in Bombay and had joined Modella Steels as their second employee. It may have seemed like nepotism, but actually it was not. While I was getting a job, Modella was getting a loyal and reference-checked brilliant engineer whom they could trust. I never mentioned at my work place that Dr. Bhrany was an Uncle, though people did find out eventually, and I certainly did complete justice to my position of Senior Engineer. I worked diligently for 6 years, enjoying the work and getting my share of promotions and raises while learning a lot. In 1980, I was sent to Nigeria for a six-week assignment with an associate company. The initial assignment went well and six months later, in May 1981 I ended up moving to Lagos, working with them for over 30 years in three of their companies, in three different countries, being the top boss at two of them. While Mummy was a bit upset that I was moving so far away from home, Daddy encouraged me to go. Please go he said, don’t let go of this opportunity. In a manner of speaking, it was this assignment which Dad helped me start at Modella which led me on a career path which I followed for the rest of my life. Right till 2011 when I returned to India.
And even while I was away abroad, it was Daddy who looked after my interests in India with an energy bigger than my own. From all the administrative work required right down to collecting rent from rogue tenants (and almost getting knifed once for being too persistent), he did it all happily. He loved maintaining my accounts in his ledger, storing my mail in a shoe-box and all this he would hand over to me within minutes of my landing home on our annual vacation from Lagos. Finally, we all realised that stress and age were getting to him and he needed to slow down. Teaching French was his passion and he was a part time French teacher in many of the prominent schools in Noida – Ryan’s, Khaitan, Amity. In fact he was the one who introduced French as a school subject to many of these schools. He also took French classes at home, making it fun for young children struggling to learn the language, so much so that they actually looked forward to attending his classes. Their parents found it unbelievable. The classes went on every day, and the kids could attend everyday if they wanted. The daughter of Neera Yadav, the then Chairman of Noida Authority was one of Daddy’s students, and when she excelled in her French Exam, Mrs. Yadav herself came home to visit Daddy – complete with Lal Batti Car and armed escort, to thank him. Little things which actually meant a lot. Then there were classes for young adults, working executives or others compelled to learn the language because they planned to migrate to Canada, for example. He was a kid with the kids and a professional with the adults. The kids taught him so many things – like playing games on his mobile, saving phone contacts, changing the ringtone, etc. Every time I would come, I would hand down my existing mobile to him, it would give me the chance to buy a newer one when i got back. He loved that, and so did I. New Technology just amazed him.
Daddy was always outgoing and hated just sitting at home. At times he would step out of the house, ‘Madam mein hune aaya’, ostensibly for a walk, but would invariably stop to chat with other local neighbors and friends. His prolonged disappearance from the house would have Mummy in a tizzy and she would be calling him on the phone, ‘Kithe Ho ji ‘? ‘Madam, aithe hi haan, bas aa reya waan’, he would reply. He also loved taking time off and as a family, we did many road trips together. I loved to drive and he loved to wander so it was perfect. We drove 12 long hours to Amritsar in 1996, a huge achievement in those days of indifferent roads, in our Premier Padmini, and did a side trip to Wagah too from there. On our trip, we stopped at the choicest of Dhabhas, and had a whale of a time. We also drove to Chandigarh, Mussoorie, Hardwar, Rishikesh, Simla, no advance bookings, just spur of the moment and taking things as they come. In Delhi too, we’d just take off and head to some market or other. Both Daddy and I were pretty clueless about Delhi roads, to me all roads looked the same, I would be driving and suddenly he would pipe up from the back, ‘Yaar take a left from here, the general line of direction will be correct’. Tiny was our Navigator, even in the era before Google Maps she knew the roads and later we would leave it to her to get us to our destination and back. But later, once Daddy got engrossed in his work, especially his tuition, he would be very reluctant to move out and miss the sessions as he felt he could not just keep abandoning his classes, his responsibility, every now and then. Many a trip was cancelled due to this, but we understood and in fact admired his dedication. Some pictures from some of our road trips are below
In May 2009, he took a nasty fall while at a shopping complex in Noida and broke his hip bone. The replacement surgery was initially successful, and even while he was recovering in hospital his little kid students were calling him, clearing their doubts, and in fact he kept assuring them that he would be back soon. He was giving them appointments for the following week promising to be back in action by then. Then a day or two later, while still in hospital, he suddenly suffered a cardiac arrest and passed on. Sadly, I was not around, I was still abroad, and in fact was unable to make it in time even for the cremation, I could reach only a day later, and missed out on performing the cremation or the Agni Punya which is to be performed by me as a son. It was performed by my son Mohit. One of the most heart-breaking scenes I witnessed was when a 6 or 8-year-old student of Daddy came home in the days following his death, he had probably been away, and when he entered he was laughing and smiling, expecting to meet Daddy, hoping to attend a class with his friends and share in the fun that these classes usually were. He was stunned when he heard that Daddy was no more, completely broke down and was sobbing uncontrollably. I realised then that Daddy was like a father to a lot more people than just me. It was also the time that I decided in my mind that I should now look towards calling it a day abroad and start heading back to home to India, to my family and to my Mother. In September 2011 we returned after spending close to thirty years abroad and are here since.