It was 1974, I still remember, a monsoon afternoon, and we little Indian boys were waiting for our Tamil teacher Mr Narayanasamy to take on our "peoples own language" (POL) Tamil class. It's a common scenario then, in non vernacular schools, in this case Tamil was taught as an additional subject by a guest teacher. Anyway that is not the story I am about to tell you.
But on that unfortunate day, Mr Narayanasamy was late, and we had the entire classroom for ourselves, and since the classroom was rather isolated from other classes, we also had the privacy to do as we like. So then began our ruckus, dancing and jumping and doing everything primary school boys and girls will do.
I was a little (actually a lot more) boisterous and climbed on the table and began gyrating, strumming to an air guitar. Seeing this my dear friend Raj Kumar got excited, ran towards me from the back and gave a big slap on my buttocks, and I tumbled onto the floor. When I got out from the daze I realised a sharp pain on my elbow, and everyone was looking at me, particularly at my arms with their mouths open wide in utter shock. Only then I realised that I had dislocated my elbow, and basically my arms were dangling off tangent. My instant reaction was directed to Raj, with utmost anger, and the first thing I uttered to him was, "who is going to pay for my arm?" And I started crying, loudly with 3 emotions, rolled into 1, firstly was from the pain, second was my anger to Raj and third was the fear of facing my Pappa. By now many would have wondered, why am I telling this story, when the title is Happy Fathers Day to my Pappa. Hold your horses, will come to that shortly.
By now I could see the horror in the faces of my classmates, more importantly my friend Raj who had this "saw a ghost-like look". He profusely said he was sorry, but I was not in the right frame of mind to respond. Perumal Dass, another dear friend of mine, who is known as Mr Fixit, took charge of the situation, and brought me to the office, me still crying, with Raj and others tagging along.
Our discipline master at that time was Cikgu Susah Bin Kasadimin (I am not joking it is his real name, and I do not think any of my classmates will ever forget Cikgu Susah.) He clarified with us as to what transpired, but insisted that I should get treated immediately. So got into his car, and he brought me to the Segamat Government Hospital. On the way to the hospital Cikgu Susah mentioned that he has instructed the office to inform my Pappa on the matter. The moment he mentioned my Pappa, my heart sank and began to furiously pound, and suddenly the the fear of facing my Pappa overtook the pain in my arm.
My father Mr Kanniappan Kutta Reddy, was a teacher, and since Segamat was a small town, basically everyone in the fraternity knows each other. In fact my Pappa knew the details of my report card even before I could present it to him, so that's how life was then, no escape.
At the hospital upon registering while awaiting treatment, my mind was totally blanked out, and the only thought on my mind was how am I going to face my Pappa and what was I going to tell him. Then he appeared from the sliding door, came straight to me with his menacing eyes, and gave a hard pinging slap that shocked Cikgu Susah and the medical assistant who was attending to me. Suddenly both their attention were on my Pappa, and Cigku Susah was trying to calm him down asking my Pappa to be patient, after all, Ravi was just a kid. Immediately after the slap, and as he calmed, he held my shoulders and asked me this, "is it painful?" And I was wondering whether he was asking me about my arm or the slap.
I cried and said "yes it was", seeking attention, either way, both types of pain needed comfort. Then while still holding my shoulders, he asked me what had happened and I narrated to him in between my pitiful sobs, but the story was definitely twisted to make Raj Kumar the villain. At the end of the story, he calmly said, "this would not have happened if you were not on top of the table in the first place." So the rational side of my Pappa shone through. Just then the Hospital Assistant (HA) Uncle Nadaraja walked in with my X-Ray, and my Pappa's attention was diverted to him, and in a pensive mood he asked about my circumstances. As Uncle Nadaraja was explaining, my Pappa was very attentive and I could see the worry on his face. But Uncle Nadaraja assured my Pappa that with proper intervention my arms can be fixed since there weren't any fracture. But I will need to go to Melaka General Hospital, as they do not have an orthopedic specialist in Segamat.
My transfer to Melaka could only be done the next day, and i would have to stay a night in Segamat hospital. I was scared, first time being admitted, plus I am placed in a twin sharing 2nd class ward and there weren't any other patients in the room. My Pappa stayed with me that night, and in the morning, he went back home to take his shower, and applied for leave for that day. By the time he came back, guess what? Raj Kumar came to visit me with his uncle, Uncle Vadivelu and another family friend of ours Uncle K.S Maniam. Raj came to apologise to me and and also apologised to my Pappa. Therein Raj and me had to listen to almost 1 hour of pep talk from all the three gentlemen, who happen to be teachers themselves on the virtues of being "good boys," and at the end we were made to shake hands. That was surely one long hour.
After they left, it was time for me to leave to Melaka, but I did not know that I was to ride on the ambulance. I was terrified and insisted that my Pappa takes me to Melaka instead, but hospital protocol, I have to be on the ambulance. Guess what? My Pappa agreed that he will follow the ambulance and so he did, drove his car all the way to Melaka hospital.
Once we got to the Hospital and when all formalities were done, it was time for my Pappa to leave and once again I insisted he stayed with me, and so he took another day off and stayed with me till the next day just about after visiting hours ended in the evening. Meanwhile he made arrangements with his friends from Melaka to visit me in between to keep me company, in his absence during the day. So from then on for the next 14 days till I got discharged from the hospital, he drove everyday to Melaka after work, from Segamat, travelling 2 hours 1 way, spending a few hours with me and returning back to Segamat.
On top of that somewhere in the second week, my baby sister was having breathing difficulties, and was admitted in Segamat Hospital, and despite that, he still made his trips to Melaka to visit me, after looking into my baby sister's needs.
Thus was my father, a strict disciplinarian on one extreme and a person with bountiful love on the other end of the spectrum.
He became a friend when he gave his helping hand in picking me up and guiding me through a personal misadventure I had endured in my early adulthood. That day I realised my Pappa's love for me and the extent he would go to look after my well being.
For that matter I would also have to thank my late Uncle Appu (Uncle Jeyaretnam) who not only cared for me as a father but also as friend in handling my anguish during that time.
I was fortunate to have several people who played that role as a father and friend, and another person I should be greatful to is late Uncle Arumugam, who gave me the wisdom to be wilfull and take life as it comes.
And then there was late Uncle Kamalanathan, who was a fantastic cook, with green fingers, a man who knows how to party and was great on his accordian. But beyond that he was a man of patients and meticulousness. I learned how to be grounded and be a practical person facing any adverseries that life throws at you.
Today my Pappa is 82 years old,, having just celebrated his birthday in June 17. He has physically slowed down but mentally his faculties are as sharp as ever, always ready for an engagement. I would embarassingly say that I have had my fair share of war of words with my Pappa. But as soon as it is over the next moment we act as though nothing has happened and continue with a cordial conversation. That is how it is with me and my Pappa.
His greatest passion revolves around cars. He was one of the earliest Indians in Segamat to own a car. It began with a Morris Minor in 1961 and now currently owns a BMW 525, and he still drives, though we have imposed restrictions on his driving.
By the way my Pappa is an absolute teetotaler, but his father was the exact opposite and so were all his friends. Somehow it skipped a generation and I have joined my Thaatha (Grandfather), but todate I have never consumed the "fire water" in front of him. Of course he knows I drink. Perhaps I am old school, but more importantly the respect and love I have for my Pappa is bigger than me.
To my Pappa, thank you for being there at different phases of my life. There were times I hated you, but retrospectively looking at it later, I realised that it was my own indequacies that led to your stern and sometimes harsh actions.
Today, I am a father myself, and I can empathize with what you have gone through bringing up Vani, Thara and me.
I humbly prostrate at your feet to seek BLESSINGS FROM YOU, MY DEAR PAPPA and AMMA.
Ravi Varmman
170020062021
Subang Jaya
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