It was from our family What'sApp group that I first came to know about the passing away of N Shanmukhan, all of 85 years. He leaves behind his wife and five children, who have their own families. They stay at Poojappura. The pain was instant because he and I used to interact everyday, way back in time before we went our different ways that life had laid out for the both of us. And to come to it, I must give you the backdrop, in brief.
Background
Dad had got us back to Thiruvananthapuram, from Bombay, in Nov 1963 and we became part of the PN Panicker household - a vibrant joint family and I was admitted into class III of the Holy Angel's Convent. We used to visit the late Dr. K Narayana Pai, a very popular physician for the family's medical needs, in fact, both the families were close to each other and we stayed at the Eswara Vilasom Road, a stone's throw away from one another.
The Pais had two sons, Krishnanand (Anandettan - who was my Maman's classmate) while the younger one, Rajeev was a year senior to me and he, too, was studying in the Convent. Shanmukhan was the Pais' driver and the car that was familiar to us was the Hindustan Baby Morris, jet black in colour and its registration number was KLT 541.
Every morning, Maman and I used to go over to the Pai household - around a half past 8 - and we were driven to school in the Baby Morris by Shanmukhan. On certain days, the soft spoken and avuncular doctor used to drive us to school. The sequence used to be, Anandettan and Maman at the Model School, Rajeev and me, at the Convent. The reverse would be the sequence in the evening. In school, when the others used to see Shanmukhan driving us in, they used to say that 'Rajeev squared' had arrived!
Shanmukhan was a very gentle person with an ever smiling face. He used to tell us quite a lot of stories, answer our silly doubts about driving and many other things. What I remember is that he was never short of answers and we liked him for his pleasant countenance. He was very possessive about us and I can never forget the way he used to wait and watch both of us moving into the innards of the school - after dropping us - before driving off home.
I'd this rare privilege for about 6 months, after which Rajeev Pai had to shift to another school (The Convent used to have boys only up to class IV), the Pais shifted their house to Poojappura and I used to commute, thereafter, to the Convent, initially by the school bus for a few months after which it was by the city service bus of the Road Transport Corporation.
Even though the break had come about, Anandettan and Rajeev continued to meet us, always with the accompaniment of the smiling Shanmukhan or during our visits to the doctor for medical reasons.
The Pais and Shanmukhan used to keep track of me as I joined the Sainik School and beyond, through Maman, who used to be a frequent visitor of the Pai household to help Anandettan in his studies.
After that, I used to meet Shanmukhan once in a while and later, came to know about him and his activities through my Maman. But I must confess that it had gotten rare, subsequently. He was, however, a frequent visitor at the Foundation, despite his tender health, Maman says.
As I look back at those times and make a recall, I must admit that I was lucky to have come across a fantastic person like Shanmukhan. He wasn't just a driver but a lovable personality with an ever smiling face. He used to be genuinely happy at my professional achievement, especially, when I'd won the gallantry award!
RIP Shanmukha! (I find that I used to call him by name and no, he didn't resent it ever, though he was miles senior). My tears and prayers!! May your near and dear ones have the strength to bear your loss and pass through these troubled times. It's a promise that I will remember you till my very end and have added you to my list of people for whom I say my prayers every morning!!!
Tailpiece.
Had got up at our usual time, the chores and was ready by a half past 9. Suma was on a day off, as she'd gone to drop her daughter at Palakkad who's taking up her new job. For Lekha and me, therefore, it was like a Sunday as we went about our usual activities.
My neighbour and I had gone to the Pookkodu panchayat, around a half past 10, to submit our 'House Tax' exemption forms, an annual ritual!
Background
Dad had got us back to Thiruvananthapuram, from Bombay, in Nov 1963 and we became part of the PN Panicker household - a vibrant joint family and I was admitted into class III of the Holy Angel's Convent. We used to visit the late Dr. K Narayana Pai, a very popular physician for the family's medical needs, in fact, both the families were close to each other and we stayed at the Eswara Vilasom Road, a stone's throw away from one another.
The Pais had two sons, Krishnanand (Anandettan - who was my Maman's classmate) while the younger one, Rajeev was a year senior to me and he, too, was studying in the Convent. Shanmukhan was the Pais' driver and the car that was familiar to us was the Hindustan Baby Morris, jet black in colour and its registration number was KLT 541.
Every morning, Maman and I used to go over to the Pai household - around a half past 8 - and we were driven to school in the Baby Morris by Shanmukhan. On certain days, the soft spoken and avuncular doctor used to drive us to school. The sequence used to be, Anandettan and Maman at the Model School, Rajeev and me, at the Convent. The reverse would be the sequence in the evening. In school, when the others used to see Shanmukhan driving us in, they used to say that 'Rajeev squared' had arrived!
Shanmukhan was a very gentle person with an ever smiling face. He used to tell us quite a lot of stories, answer our silly doubts about driving and many other things. What I remember is that he was never short of answers and we liked him for his pleasant countenance. He was very possessive about us and I can never forget the way he used to wait and watch both of us moving into the innards of the school - after dropping us - before driving off home.
I'd this rare privilege for about 6 months, after which Rajeev Pai had to shift to another school (The Convent used to have boys only up to class IV), the Pais shifted their house to Poojappura and I used to commute, thereafter, to the Convent, initially by the school bus for a few months after which it was by the city service bus of the Road Transport Corporation.
Even though the break had come about, Anandettan and Rajeev continued to meet us, always with the accompaniment of the smiling Shanmukhan or during our visits to the doctor for medical reasons.
The Pais and Shanmukhan used to keep track of me as I joined the Sainik School and beyond, through Maman, who used to be a frequent visitor of the Pai household to help Anandettan in his studies.
After that, I used to meet Shanmukhan once in a while and later, came to know about him and his activities through my Maman. But I must confess that it had gotten rare, subsequently. He was, however, a frequent visitor at the Foundation, despite his tender health, Maman says.
As I look back at those times and make a recall, I must admit that I was lucky to have come across a fantastic person like Shanmukhan. He wasn't just a driver but a lovable personality with an ever smiling face. He used to be genuinely happy at my professional achievement, especially, when I'd won the gallantry award!
RIP Shanmukha! (I find that I used to call him by name and no, he didn't resent it ever, though he was miles senior). My tears and prayers!! May your near and dear ones have the strength to bear your loss and pass through these troubled times. It's a promise that I will remember you till my very end and have added you to my list of people for whom I say my prayers every morning!!!
Tailpiece.
Had got up at our usual time, the chores and was ready by a half past 9. Suma was on a day off, as she'd gone to drop her daughter at Palakkad who's taking up her new job. For Lekha and me, therefore, it was like a Sunday as we went about our usual activities.
My neighbour and I had gone to the Pookkodu panchayat, around a half past 10, to submit our 'House Tax' exemption forms, an annual ritual!
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