When
I was in the second year of college, Femina,
a women’s magazine, carried a write-up about me in their teenager’s column. A
few weeks after this, I got a letter from Sri. S K Maloo from Delhi. He was impressed with the report in
the magazine; he said and wanted to ‘adopt’ me as his granddaughter. I laughed
it away as many guys wrote weird letters proposing marriage and here was a
winner. The letters kept coming and I showed them to dad who thought the
gentleman was genuinely grandfather material. I wrote back and we started
corresponding. Grandpa had died and he seemed like a good alternative as the
sentiments he expressed were touching. This went on for months and I developed
affection for the old man. I wrote inviting him to the play in CFTRI I was to act
in. I forgot about it as I was busy with the rehearsals. After the play, when I
was changing, my friend came and whispered, “He has come”. Not knowing who she
was talking about, I took my own time to join my parents who were waiting out.
With them was this tall gentleman in a suit and a bright pink turban. He handed
a small silver trophy to me and said “from a fond grandfather”. I could not
\believe it. He had brought a box of sweets and he turned out to be a real nice
person. It seems he had to visit his relatives in Bangalore and decided to time it so he could
come for the play! A couple of years later, when we moved to Bangalore, he came again and we met. But this
time, I got a few strange anonymous letters asking me to keep away from him and
I decided not to ignore them. I never heard from him after that and may his
soul rest in peace (unless he is still alive!)
****
An
unfamiliar car was parked in front of our house as I came back from college one
evening. Dad was standing in the garden and with him was a good looking young
man. As I walked in, dad introduced me to the stranger, saying he had something
to say to me and left for his evening rummy session at the Club. I learnt that
the young man, Suresh, had seen me at a wedding and wanted to marry me. He had
gone to meet my father in his office and he invited Suresh home to check it out
with me himself. Cool! I was just sixteen going on seventeenth, with no
intention of getting married. Of course, it appeared as a good alternative just
before exams but not as a permanent solution! We had a long chat under the jack
fruit tree when I made him understand that being a rich coffee planter’s wife
was not on my agenda as I had plans to become someone in my own right. Frankly,
besides wanting to be a teacher, I had no clear blueprint but I was sure I did
not want to end up as a rich man’s wife. The prospect did not pump up my
adrenaline. The guy thought I was out of my mind and I must have been too, to
throw out a bag of gold which had fallen into my lap! That’s what I call
destiny. It makes you do and say things which you don’t even know exist in your
mind. We parted friends and I’ve never regretted that decision, even when my
maid took three months off and I had to sweep and mop the floors! Dad came back
from the Club and asked me what I told Suresh. “Good”, he said and dropped the
subject. He never ever pressurized me about marriage. My aunts often suggested
eligible, matches but dad was cool about it. He said he was not in a great
hurry to get rid of his girls. I wish more fathers have this attitude.
All
too soon it was time to graduate. I managed to get a second class which was
commendable, according to my friends who had only seen me dancing, acting or
debating. I was declared an all-round student (I promise, I was very slim) and
got the Best Dressed Cadet award from NCC. My dhobi too shares the honours for
starching my uniform enough to crackle as I marched. I was proud of my uniform
and respect any profession which prescribes it. It gives sanctity to the job,
whether it is sweeping the streets or leading a Nation in battle. When my
husband retired from the Indian Navy, I missed seeing him in his uniform more
than the perks that went with it.
Very inspiring again!
ReplyDelete