Memories from Roy Choudury

Appa had a way with people and he never allowed traditional relations or cultural differences be a barrier to developing great relationships, in fact he enjoyed being the contrarian in these respects. It was very evident in his relationship with his 'Bengali' sambandhi's. Here is what Ranjit Roy Choudhury has to say about MVP.

"Memories keep the one you loved close to you in spirit and thought and always in your heart. I am sure everyone who knew Dr. Raman including Monju and me will find comfort in remembering each moment spent in his company.

He was a man with vast knowledge and varied interests, yet his quest for knowledge never seemed to end. Even at his age, it was remarkable to see him making a serious effort to learn Bengali and succeeding to some extent. He asked me for a Bengali magazine and to my great surprise within a few days he read out a few lines to me from it. What a remarkable man!

We share our thoughts on various subjects, from cricket to carnatic and hindustani music, comparing the various ragas. He was like my elder brother whom I could ask for any kind of help or advise whenever I needed it most. As long as he was there, we felt so secure.

It is so hard to reconcile to the fact that we will no longer see his ever smiling face. We know that grief and tragedy are only for a time; but his goodness and unconditional love which he showered on us will forever remain in our hearts. We will always be thankful both to him and Lakshmi for making us feel so much a part of their family. "

Ranjit (Roy Choudhury)

(sambandhi)

More Memories...

It's not often that inlaws have more than a "politely cordial" relationship. Subhashini Subrahmanian has this to say about her "sambandhi"--

I don't know how to write about him. There were so many good qualities about him to write. The name of the house, "Ayodhya" is perfect for the house. His name Raman also suits not only the person, but symbolises all the qualities which Lord Rama had, which he too had. Soft spoken, always smiling, ready to help anyone--known or unknown. On festival days or any special days the sweets and vada which we prepare in the house, he insisted, should be given first to the watchman and the servants, and unless this was given he would not eat.

He loved music, cricket and playing chess on the computer. I would go along with him and Lakshmi to all the music concerts. If we had any doubt about identifying the raga, he used to tell us immediately. He had a music diary in which he wrote down the name of the song and the ragam. Sometimes I used to feel tired to go to a concert and he used to say, "Come for as long as you can sit and listen to the music. When you are tired we can come back." After returning if I said "Thank you", he would say, with a big smile, "Thanks for the company!" He wanted others to enjoy everything he did.

Whenever he came upstairs (we live in one house, on two floors) to eat with us, after the meal he used to say "Thank you" which I refused to accept. Immediately he changed this to "No thank you", said with a smile.

When I travelled to Chennai by train, which was quite often, he wrote down the time table for me from Secunderabad to Chennai and the return journey, by both the Chennai Express and Charminar Express--I still keep that sheet of paper with me in my travel handbag, encased in clear plastic, to check the progress of the train and the stations on the way!

He used to ask the children--his granddaughters Achala and Ananya--to translate English words to Tamil and the other way round, and this was often quite comical (elimichcham pazham became rat remainder fruit!) and made them laugh.

I can go on writing--these are just a few of those memories. We will all miss him.