Sumant aka Laale aka pappa

Sulochana aka bakaa aka mummy

Papa – Sumant Ranchhod, Ranchhod Damodar, Damodar Pitambar, Pitambar Harivallabh, Harivallabh Dhai. Mother Son ba. Born in Amod, a town about 5-6 miles from Jambusar – the family hometown. Bapaji (Ranchhod) was the school master there. The oldest sibling – Hiralaxmi -  was born 1889, the first of 9, and papa on Wednesday 29th November of 1911 : Vikram samvat 1968, Magshar shukla 8th phase the monthly Durgaashtami- was 8th of 9. Four sons: Natwar, Tribhuvan, Sumant, Indukumar, 5 daughters: Hiralaxmi, Lalita, Savita, Kundan, Kanchan, and Ba Adit – Ranchhod’s sister. Hiralaxmi had been widowed early on and was back home and taken up the family vocation of teaching! Son ba passed away when papa was relatively young, so Hiralaxmi looked after him, and the bond was more mother-son than siblings.

Baapaji got transferred in his government schools job, and the family moved to Gajera, another small town about 5 miles on the other side of Jambusar. Finally the family without the various married off siblings, landed in Surat. I don’t know if Baapaji had retired or that he had been transferred pre-retirement. Papa’s school education was completed in Surat by 1929 from Sarvajanik High School, and he went off to MS University in Vadodara (Baroda). For some reason, he went off to Poona – SP College (Sir Parshurambhau College!) to complete his BSc, and then a year I think at Kolhapur to do a BT – Bachelor of Teaching! First job was teaching at his school Alma Mater – Sarvajanik School in Surat!

He developed as an individual at Poona, discovered cigerettes (I think it was at Poon because of hostel life), played tennis, contract bridge, and discovered hiking in the Wester Ghats (Saihyadri range) to many of Shivaji’s forts. Rajabhau of Amravati became a good friend of papa’s here too.

But Surat remained his stomping ground. His close friends, Shashikant, Jaidev, Jainti Mamavala, Karnik are all his Surat friends.

Motiben (Hiralaxmi) would cart him off on her Gujarat area pilgrimages, to carry the baggage. Young man, to do the chores for his sister and friends, even as she took care of the cooking etc. It was a time of selfhelp in all areas. Eating out was just not on – except any prasad from a temple. Papa described himself as an atheist in those days, while Baapaji had a consecrated alter at home, and motiben was a dedicated practitioner of Pushtimarg, but Papa went with Motiben regularly. While the ladies focussed on the temples, papa was more interested in gaping at the nature around him. Transport was trains and bullock carts. So, travel took it’s own sweet time. I think his love for travel and nature, hills and mountains developed on these trips to places like Mt. Abu, Pavagadh on hill tops. How this fascination grew into his love for photography, birds, himalayas, flora, fauna I can only conjecture as a natural progression. But ever since I saw the light of the day, he has been an infectious nature lover.

Papa, Maamaa, Kaakaa, Fuvaji, Maasaaji (mom’s brother, father’s brother, dad’s sister’s hubby, mom’s sister’s hubby = all relationships covered in English by the plebeian word “uncle”), Sir (as in teacher) Suman, Uncle Sam, Sumant the nutcase, Laale (an affection loaded colloquial version of the honorific “lal”)  SumantLal and ofcourse darling! All calls for papa to respond to. Wanna go on a hike? Himalaya trek? Shivaji forts? Wanna play bridge (contract bridge)? Make shrikhand? The filling for a puranpoli, read text books to sight deficient students? Trace designs on mummy’s saari for her to embroider? Teach me to play table tenis? Swimming? Photography? Calls go out to papa!

Papa had three groups of friends. One ofcourse was the Surat group of deep friends, second was the group of mountain afficionado’s, the bird watchers, the photography enthusiasts. And the third was the group who papa had infected with all these interests and hobbies . Mummy and papa spent their post retirement winters in Ahemdabad with my cousin sister. Papa would get onto a bicycle and ride to near by ponds and groves of trees to watch birds, a binocular hanging from his neck. If someone got curious enough to ask this old man what he was up to, invariably papa managed to get him or her interested in birds and hence in nature!

Papa’s planning for treks in Himalayas was elaborate and long term. He would normally start 2-3 years ahead of time. He would read books – often yellowed and in tatters of travel by Britishers in these regions, speak to people (just a handful in Bombay) who had been there, and trace maps borrowed from others. Then he would write to government officers, for information, sometimes permits to visit, and notes for accomodation at various dak bunglows and rest houses of the government departments – a heritage of the British structures. He would go to the railway station at 4 in the morning to stand in line exactly 3 months before the start of our trip – on the first day of my school vacation! Because that was the way the railway booking system worked: 3 months in advance! He hated travelling in trains without reservations. He was not good with uncertainties during treks. If he did not get reservations, he would start talking of travelling first class, and mummy would need to bring forth all her cleverness to disuade him from that major escalation of costs. After all money was her domain!

We got a black and white TV by accident. He loved to watch tennis matches – Wimbeldon – but before the final set, he would go away – he could not bear the suspense!

He must have contracted malaria at some point in his life, and it’s effect popped up occasionally in Bombay, and out came the several layers of sweaters and duvets.

He had great affection for Sanskrit. His eldest brother had done his university graduation with Sanskrit major, and was a teacher of Sanskrit. Papa would remember bits and pieces of various Sanskrit poetry from Meghdoot to Shakuntal. His command of English was also good. HE had been transferred to Calcutta for a little over a year, and when we returned to Bombay, I could not get admission to a Gujarati medium school! But an English medium school was possible. So, father and son sat down during the summer vacation, and boned up on English in 6 weeks, enabling me to start class 6 in English medium school! No one suspected my Gujarati medium background.

Sulochana, a.k.a. Bakaa. 4th child of final 9 of Thakordas and Taragauri, born 11th April 1916, Vikram Samvat 1993, Chaitra vad naum – Ramnavami at Bombay. Home or hospital is a mystery to me. Ancestors were based in Surat, but Thakordas came to Bombay in1907-8 or there about. He got a job with Standard Oil, but moved to Metro theatre in 1928, and retired from there in 1948.

Thakordas Dahyabhai, Dahyabhai Jaikishandaas. Taragauri Maganlal Mal, Maganlal Gulaabdas Mal. This is the ancestry that I could find. Kumud, Manjula, Sunayana, Sulochana, Krishnamani joined by Madhusudan, Mahendra, Shashikant and Arun. Mummy was a born and brought up Bombay girl. She finished secondary education at Chandaramji girls’ high school, just round the corner. Joined Modern School – a stone’s throw away – as a primary school teacher some time in 1932 or ’33. The kids called her the “Lei teacher” (Lei – as in a short garland of fragrant flowers worn around her hair bun). I don’t think the family travelled beyond Bombay – Surat trips. They did have a house in Surat, so I assume holidays were in Surat. But I never heard any travel story from mummy or her siblings. Around 1935-36, a team of primary teachers from Modern School were sent to Madras to learn the Montessori Method of teaching young children from Madame Montessori herself. (After writing this, I researched Madam Montessori. Her methods were known in India, and a few people had gone to Europe to learn her methods. She came to Madras to conduct a course at the invitation of the Theosophical Society. Unfortunately, the II WW kicked off that year, and MM and group – all italians – were under house arrest! They could go home only in 1946!)

For a Gujarati girl from a middle class family, this was Adventure! But adventure never fazed mummy. She was after all the only girl from the family to take up a job! All the sisters got married and took off for their husband’s home, so mummy joined her mother in looking after all the younger brothers. Madhumama told me that when any of the brothers wanted to go for a movie with their friends, in most instances, mummy financed them. Mahendramama recalled that whenever he was shying away from homework, She would stand in front of him, to help and motivate him to finish.

She had an artistic bent of mind, and excelled at embroidery, knitting and painting – besides sewing clothes. I recall that all my clothes till my early teens – including my school uniforms – were stitched by mummy. I recall that we had a serving tray – which to my great shame, has been lost in our move to Singapore – with an embroidered still life picture of roses – each with absolute life like colours and shades. More on this a bit later!

I was told that she was a plump child – which would be hard to believe if anyone saw her as an adult – moringa pod (Sharagavaa ni shing!) thin. But the plump girl child was called “Bakaa”, short for Bakaasur I assume! And the name stuck. She was always “Bakaa: ben, maasi, foi” and “Sulu: maami, kaaki, bhabhi” for the pre and post marriage families respectively.

Slim she was, but wiry. Never an idle moment, with something or the other going on with her hands. She loved to read, but not voraciously – too many things to do. When we went on treks, she would refuse to carry even a handkerchief – even the little scrap that ladies handkerchiefs were in those days! She would actually hand over her ‘kerchief to me or papa on these treks. But who walked ahead of both of us? Mummy did!

She had a smooth way of getting people to do things her way. Inter-personal marvel! We would hear her life motto at least 3 times a week – “work is more loveable than people!”. Just watching her work would put people in a tizzy. Her mother’s house was a set of 3 contiguous rooms in a chawl. (A tenement with community “facilities”.) Motibaa would be up at 4 a.m., start the pressure cooker – an innovation consisting of a tall pot, an inverted brass dish on top weighed down with a slab of stone – and leave for her rounds of the temples by 6 a.m. Mummy would finish the rest, and be off to the school.

She was pretty firm in some matters – came from being a teacher I guess, or that she made a great teacher because she was disciplined! Even though I was her third child, and the only one to survive, she never spoiled me. Any shenanigan got me a tight slap, although after the slap both of us would hug and cry together! I am choking up just writing about it, even though she has been gone these past 38 years!