Babu Mama: Thanks for the Memories.

 

“You must stop reading trash and start reading the classics,” said Babu Mama (uncle) to a 12 year old. The 12 year old was me and trash was a new word to me at that point in my life.  The response had been prompted by my desire to buy some books featuring the Hardy Boys written by Franklin W Dixon.

It was typical of Babu Mama that he bought me a couple of Hardy Boys books. He had come all the way from Bangalore to Mumbai where we stayed to see off myself, my mother and brother as we embarked on our journey to Accra, the capital of Ghana in West Africa where my father had been transferred.  It was also typical of him that he took over most off the load where packing was concerned from my mother.

Also in my younger days when I asked him for Rs 50 he would part with Rs 100. Babu Mama was the soul of generosity. These and other thoughts came flooding to my mind when I heard from my mother that he had breathed his last after being troubled by various ailments over the last few years.

There were other thoughts too that crowded my mind. My journey from Chennai to Bangalore as a 13 year old to do what else but spend time with mama and my cousins during the Christmas vacation. It was my first sole journey made more memorable by the fact that some of the leading Indian cricketers of that time (1978) Chandrashekhar, Prasanna and Kirmani traveling in the same train. Catching a glimpse of those deities of Indian cricket at that time was an experience in itself.

By a strange coincidence, I was to repeat the Bangalore –Chennai trip and back a few days after his death. This time of course there were no cricketers. Today’s cricketers of course fly except when there is no choice.

Another fond memory of Babu Mama was when during another trip to Bangalore during another vacation as a 14\15 year old I visited a popular eatery and paid a handsome tip. My uncle could not get over the amount that I had given away and he ribbed me about it for a long time.

It is this kind of jolly and generous nature that endeared him to all of us cousins and made him such an integral part of all our childhood memories.

Earlier this year came the definitive memory when my father passed away in Mumbai. Despite his ill health he came with his son Badri and Kamala Mami to condole my mother. He flew in and out of Mumbai the same day adding to his hardship. That is something which we as a family can never forget.  It was therefore a huge relief to me that I could see Babu Mama one last time before he breathed his last.

And yes over the years I did read the classics largely the abridged versions. And I will give the same advice to my eight year old son Sanjiv when the time comes.

Thanks for the memories Mama. RIP.