1st Jan is not my day. While the entire world celebrates the beginning of a new year I mourn the death of my Tataji ( maternal grandpa), with whom I spent some really precious moments and could have spent more if I knew how to control my anger and only if my mother exposed me to realities of life.
My heart broke further today when I heard that Mr Siddhartha Chari, whom we called Tata had expired yesterday. It was because of him that I could get through such a wonderful school in Mysore after the mid terms. He knew 25 languages, an ex IFS officer who had traveled all across the world and had a huge library.
I remember my first day at Pushkarini was on 4th Nov 1994. Though the school used to start at 9am, we used to come in early by 8am for special english classes that he used to take for us. That particular day I had arrived early to school along with my mother and was waiting in the teachers room for him to come. As soon as he came in, he greeted me first with a big smile and sharp diction and he said ” go on, go to the class, its your first day here and you need to catch up with our friends”. He then told Pallavi and Princy to take me to the class. He used to teach us Shakespearean English. It was only then that I was introduced to Macbeth and other Shakespeare books. There was just something in his eyes, where in when he read ;you could just sit and listen to him for hours together.
He was a elderly man by then but so fit and guess what he used to wear always. A simple khadhi dhoti kurta. Who thought such a learned person like him would ever wear such clothes. Simple living, simple lifestyle, gorgeous wife, huge pets and amazing house. I have never met such an enterprising man till date and i don’t think there will ever be one also. Rest in peace tatha, you are missed !