Sunday, September 28, 2014

An amazing person was he

Sydney, my brother in law, left all of us on 1st September this year. It was too sudden and  shocking for all near and dear ones. Death lays his icy hands on kings, what else to say. Here he was  smiling and  laughing in the morning, and it was all silence in the evening. Yes, mortals have no choice but to accept since we have no armour against fate and destiny.

Sydney was just 52, my wife’s  younger brother, married to Deanne and having two beautiful children – Roxanne and Sasha. He suffered a massive heart attack and disappeared into oblivion.  A happy go lucky guy whose mission in life was to bring smile in everyone’s face. He was full of pranks and was liked by one and all. Whether it was young children or old men and women, he had his way of endearing to them and finding his way to their hearts.

Sydney was a family man and loved his wife and children dearly. He worked in the ship and hence used to come on long vacations after being out for a year. But there was never a day when being in some other part of the world  that he failed to ring up and talk to his family. He was a globe trotter and was supposed to be the best in his work. When back at home, he used to drop his wife to office every day, and without fail would sit with his children to take up their lessons. He was a passionate footballer and spent several hours at the football field. He was full of life and energy that his presence created an infectious enthusiasm in others. He had a lot of friends and if one walked with him, there would be many stops in between. He was so full of pranks that he would catch people unawares and frighten them by barking like a dog. He was always up to pulling everyone’s legs and everyone took it in the right spirit. This was because ‘pranks’ were synonymous to ‘Sydney’, and everyone knew he had no malice in his heart. Children loved him and it was not very surprising there were a lot of children at his funeral. 

The funeral was attended by more than a thousand people, both young and old. I heard several old men and women weeping loudly and saying ’Sydney, now who will fool around with us and make us happy’. Such was his personal mark on people. A lot of people had  several stories to narrate about his loving nature, his magnanimity, his pranks, his jokes and his light hearted nature. But above all what  stood apart was his help and support to one and all, and to all important causes.
Sydney was laid to rest but he is not the one to rest. Tears flowed down the cheeks of all those  present at the funeral, but knowing Sydney he definitely must be regaling and delighting the angels up there and giving them a wonderful time.

We love you Sydney and will miss you.  

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Amma - None to fill this void

This blog post is very special and personal to me. This is dedicated to the memory of my loving mother who attained Her Heavenly Abode on 13th January, 2014. She was 85 years of age and passed away peacefully. Luckily by the Almighty’s Grace she was fine and looked after herself independently till the very last. Yes, today both my parents are no more but I have sweet and loving memories to cherish apart from the great upbringing they endowed us with. I have been lucky enough to have such loving parents and I have lived life with their love and blessings showered throughout. 

My mother, a simple woman, extremely loving and such dedication for one's family is simply to be seen to be believed.  My father was everything for her, and her two sons , my elder brother and I were her two eyes. She breathed her last extremely content that ours is a happily family. Truly, a life lived to the fullest.
Amma was very magnanimous by nature, extremely enthusiastic and loved to have people around. Her culinary skills were unmatched and she loved to feast guests who came home. I always told her that guests came home only because of her, and thus we had the pleasure of several people’s company. By nature being humble, she would remark in Tamil ‘ Poo ode naar um mannakam’ meaning ‘Along with the flowers, the string also gains fragrance.’ What she meant was we were the flowers, and she the string. I reminded her she was the flower giving all of us the fragrance. Whatever she cooked/bought would be distributed to all her friends and to those who came home, and we witnessed this gesture till the very last. She loved to serve me food and enjoyed my enormous appetite. Sometimes there was no food left for her, but never made it known unless we found out. I remember a quote which said ‘Mother's love grows by giving.’ So apt and true.

She was at the window every single day to wave good bye when I left for work, and this gesture was shown to all her near and dear ones including guests who came home. Whenever any family member or guest left home, I joked with her by saying ‘Tata chollu - Oddu, oddu’ meaning’ ‘Run, run to the window to bid good bye.’ Quite a lot of people remember this gesture of hers and it came to her naturally. She always had an endearing and welcoming smile, and people felt very comfortable in her company. When I returned home from work, she shared coffee with me enquiring about the day’s happenings. She held all her family members close to her chest, and always enquired about every one’s well being. Her grand children were the apples of her eyes, and she humbly but proudly spoke of their achievements. She adapted to her grand children so much that she greeted them with a ‘thumbs up, a high five or a folded fist .’, and said ‘ Its good that I have learnt all of these at this age(80 plus).’
What more to say of my mother, she is truly God's gift. Love, respect  and a window to humanity is what she bequeathed, and this will always remain with me.  I can go on and on. I feel lonely but I am not alone. Wherever she is, she will always be with me.
Anna Taylor's quote would be appropriate to end this piece on my mother:

“Who fed me from her gentle breast
And hushed me in her arms to rest,
And on my cheek sweet kisses prest?
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.”


No painter's brush, nor poet's pen
In justice to her fame
Has ever reached half high enough
To write a mother's name.

Amma, I love you.