Chittappa, Superman and Baap Re Baap thatha

He was cool, stylish and evergreen. Always had a smile and somehow I felt that he had some special corner in his heart reserved for me. I think that is just the way he made many feel. With RayBan glasses, forever smartly dressed, a trait that is not necessarily identified with many in the Mangalam family, and more relatable to the my generation in many ways, that was chittappa.

I vaguely remember the times that we lived in the same house in St. John's road (Secunderabad). I do remember chittappa coming back from London. I distinctly remember coming back from Ethiopia and then finding out that they are moving to Baroda. I was distraught! I remember going to Madras for a wedding and opting to come back to Secunderabad instead of going on a 'Temple trip' with amma & appa because I was getting a chance to ride 1st Class with chittappa & chitti back. I thought he was incredibly cool. He could do no wrong. He was Superman. That is what I called him as he picked me up and swung me around when I was a kid.

A few years ago, on one of their visits to the US, Rushika got to meet and spend some time with chittappa. He was to her as he was to me. A lot of fun. And as most kids are, demanding of more after you give them a little, a tired chittappa would exclaim "Baap Re Baap!". Everytime since I have to refer to him in my conversations to Rushika, she would say, "You mean Baap re Baap thatha?".

I picked up Ravi's voicemail as soon as my plane landed in Seattle informing me that chittappa had passed just an hour ago. I choked briefly, feeling bad that I had missed the opportunity to see him, but something inside me told me that that may have meant another hour of suffering for him.

A couple of years ago when chittappa, krishna, kasturi and myself had driven down to the Godavari river to immerse appa's ashes and chittappa insisted on walking down to the banks and then climbing the stairs back up. You could see the effort he was putting in. It was evident in his loud gasps for air. But such was his love for his brother.

The warmth of this family and its sheer reach have absolutely amazed me. I don't think there are many other's like us, although I would hope there are. The world would certainly be a much better place if that were so. I cannot help but think that its moments such as this that remind us how important it is to keep these ties green and to pass on their strength to the next generation. The support and strength one gets from being with family in times like these are immeasurable and both appa & chittappa have embodied that spirit more than anyone else I know.

I am sure there is welcome party up in the Great Beyond among the Mangalams, not an eagerly awaited one, but timely nevertheless.

A packet of gems and other memories

Life's ironies, I guess you can call them. Exactly a month ago I had written about Rangan Chittappa's and Vijaya Chitti's anniversary. Today I write in Chittappa's memory--it seems too soon to call this a "memory" but that is what happens from one second to the next; a person is a person and a tangible presence, then the person is a memory, still tangible in many ways, but not in most others.

We take our consolations where we get them, and that we must. Chittappa's last few weeks must have been happy. He enjoyed that anniversary party, he must have been very gratified to watch Hrishee's poonal, and then the lovely rolling landscape of Seattle with Ravi, Yamini and his grandchildren. He did not suffer and linger, and his loved ones (many of them) were around him. Those of us who are far away will miss the special sharing of memories and feelings that happens when families are together, but then we have to believe there will be other, happier occasions for those.

This evening when Achala and I walked into the house, she crumpled a packet of Cadbury's Gems and said, "Rangan Chittappa always bought us Gems," and there we smiled at the memory. We've been privileged, as a family, to have had among us so many elders who shared their warmth and affection across generations. How many children these days know their great uncles and aunts as closely as some in our family? Rangan Chittappa and Vijaya Chitti spent a lot of time with my kids, and I remember one summer when appa and amma were in the US they stayed with us for a couple of months, with Chittappa walking them to the bus stop, quizzing them about various things, and of course, giving them chocolate as a reward!

It's a little over two years since appa passed away, and he too was about the same age: 78. With Chittappa's passing, it seems that a part of our childhood is crumbling away, and being replaced by a wall of memories. But if many of those are like the packet of gems, then we can look back and smile, and even if there are tears, see enough happy pictures through them to bring the smiles back.