On the occasion of Children's Day.
From a child to his hero.
The rich and the magnanimous.
Far back in time. I was in my 4rth or 5th grade. Ours was a nuclear family. My father, essentially a self made man, used to manage his funds from an account in Bank of Maharashtra, Deccan Gymkhana. He was working as an executive in an industry that was a foreign collaboration and manufactured pumps.
We were the typical middle class family. Living within our means, austere, not extravagant, and yet very fulfilling and contented. My father was the simple living high thinking types. He was 6 feet tall, strikingly good looking, exercised regularly, and was an avid reader. He was the larger than life hero. I would feel dwarfed, and totally insignificant when he was around. He was the epitome of manhood and made all of us, my mother my sister and me, feel very safe, secure and protected. His personna was an eclectic mix of sauve, polished, machismo- a provider, a disciplinarian, an intellectual, and a formidable but extremely charismatic personality. Those times and our culture erected an invisible, unbreachable barricade around him, that precluded any trespass. There was only deep respect, a vague, undefined fear, and an intimidating touch to his countenance. His true nature, emotions, and affections were at best a calculated guess. He had a good sense of humour, which his no nonsense attitude seldom revealed.
On a rainy 30th June, we were bundled into our family car around 4 pm. It was my mother's birthday. Those were the days of moderation and subtlety. Emotions never needed accessories like cards, expensive gifts, or public display. Love and affection were of an implicit order, never explicit, and certainly not a demonstration in front of children. Love was an emotion to be experienced, simmering within the depths of the heart.
Dad drove us down to Deccan, and parked the car on Ferguson College road just short of the Good Luck cafe crossing. Parking was never an issue. He got off and walked to the bank. It was almost 45 minutes. I was a very restless kid. Waiting in confinement was a real punishment of sorts. My mother was getting restive and soon running out of ideas to restrain my impatience.
It started raining. It was the typical, irritating gentle Pune sprinkle, that neither inundated nor permitted one to walk without an umbrella. After a while, I saw dad scurrying back to our car. He was almost drenched. He quickly got into the car. He then unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and pulled out a lovely red rose. He gave it to my mother.
His words still echo in my heart.
"Pushpa, wishing you a happy birthday. I went to the bank, but I couldn't withdraw any money as my salary has not been credited. I emptied my wallet and there was just five rupees. I can't afford anything more just now. But this rose has all my feelings and love for you." Sounded a bit confusing and incomprehensible at that tender age, when birthdays were meant to be cakes, sweets and gifts. Was much later on in life, that I realised the gist of what my dad meant that day.
My father very early on taught me the value of magnanimity, and its difference from affluence. There are many with a surfeit of resources and wealth but very few with a lions heart. He always said, money is just a means. It can at best provide, but never care or comfort.
In my profession, I get to see this so often. Children providing all the creature comforts to their ailing parents but extremely frugal with the element that matters the most. Personally comforting them and being around. Spouses deeply entrenched in punishing routines, scarcely having time for one another. Parents compensating their absence with gifts and freebies. They are busy chasing careers and accumulating riches at the cost of ignoring their most precious possessions. One can surely get rich, but it takes a benevolent large heartedness to be magnanimous. Affluence can be acquired, but magnanimity is a trait thats possibly genetic. The two are not mutually exclusive, but strange bedfellows. The two are certainly not synonymous. Probably more an either /or situation or then quite possibly, inversely related.
From a child to his hero.
The rich and the magnanimous.
Far back in time. I was in my 4rth or 5th grade. Ours was a nuclear family. My father, essentially a self made man, used to manage his funds from an account in Bank of Maharashtra, Deccan Gymkhana. He was working as an executive in an industry that was a foreign collaboration and manufactured pumps.
We were the typical middle class family. Living within our means, austere, not extravagant, and yet very fulfilling and contented. My father was the simple living high thinking types. He was 6 feet tall, strikingly good looking, exercised regularly, and was an avid reader. He was the larger than life hero. I would feel dwarfed, and totally insignificant when he was around. He was the epitome of manhood and made all of us, my mother my sister and me, feel very safe, secure and protected. His personna was an eclectic mix of sauve, polished, machismo- a provider, a disciplinarian, an intellectual, and a formidable but extremely charismatic personality. Those times and our culture erected an invisible, unbreachable barricade around him, that precluded any trespass. There was only deep respect, a vague, undefined fear, and an intimidating touch to his countenance. His true nature, emotions, and affections were at best a calculated guess. He had a good sense of humour, which his no nonsense attitude seldom revealed.
On a rainy 30th June, we were bundled into our family car around 4 pm. It was my mother's birthday. Those were the days of moderation and subtlety. Emotions never needed accessories like cards, expensive gifts, or public display. Love and affection were of an implicit order, never explicit, and certainly not a demonstration in front of children. Love was an emotion to be experienced, simmering within the depths of the heart.
Dad drove us down to Deccan, and parked the car on Ferguson College road just short of the Good Luck cafe crossing. Parking was never an issue. He got off and walked to the bank. It was almost 45 minutes. I was a very restless kid. Waiting in confinement was a real punishment of sorts. My mother was getting restive and soon running out of ideas to restrain my impatience.
It started raining. It was the typical, irritating gentle Pune sprinkle, that neither inundated nor permitted one to walk without an umbrella. After a while, I saw dad scurrying back to our car. He was almost drenched. He quickly got into the car. He then unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and pulled out a lovely red rose. He gave it to my mother.
His words still echo in my heart.
"Pushpa, wishing you a happy birthday. I went to the bank, but I couldn't withdraw any money as my salary has not been credited. I emptied my wallet and there was just five rupees. I can't afford anything more just now. But this rose has all my feelings and love for you." Sounded a bit confusing and incomprehensible at that tender age, when birthdays were meant to be cakes, sweets and gifts. Was much later on in life, that I realised the gist of what my dad meant that day.
My father very early on taught me the value of magnanimity, and its difference from affluence. There are many with a surfeit of resources and wealth but very few with a lions heart. He always said, money is just a means. It can at best provide, but never care or comfort.
In my profession, I get to see this so often. Children providing all the creature comforts to their ailing parents but extremely frugal with the element that matters the most. Personally comforting them and being around. Spouses deeply entrenched in punishing routines, scarcely having time for one another. Parents compensating their absence with gifts and freebies. They are busy chasing careers and accumulating riches at the cost of ignoring their most precious possessions. One can surely get rich, but it takes a benevolent large heartedness to be magnanimous. Affluence can be acquired, but magnanimity is a trait thats possibly genetic. The two are not mutually exclusive, but strange bedfellows. The two are certainly not synonymous. Probably more an either /or situation or then quite possibly, inversely related.
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