Thatha...

I knew him from the age of about four till eleven.

Crisply ironed shirt, starched white dhothi, spectacles with bifocal lenses, neatly parted hair, mouthing Shakespearean monologue, a majestic walking stick and a strong gait - that was my Thatha!

I used to hold his hand and walk with him to Krishna Library in Chikkadapalli, Hyderabad where I would get the latest Amar Chitra Kathas, Tinkles and Tintins.
He used to take me to book fairs every year and buy me tons of books, including Children's Knowledge Bank, Tell Me Why, Tom Sawyer, etc. (He bought me my first RK Narayan book, 'Swami and Friends', the hardbound edition. Somebody borrowed it from me in the last two years and has failed to return it. If you do have it, please let me know. That particular object symbolizes a lot to me.) Whatever love for reading I have, is all because of him.

I remember how he used to shield me from my mother's beatings. I remember how my cousin and I locked him up in his room and threw pebbles through the ventilator...for fun!(Sorry, Thatha - I was a mischievious kid!). At times, he used to buy me and Appi 'Five Star' bars at Kashinath. He had a red hard bound book that contained all of Shakespeare's plays and never failed to watch Shakespeare on Saturday afternoons on Doordarshan. Whatever I know of Shylock, Portia and the like is all thanks to him. I remember him recounting stories of his stint as a public prosecutor and the nasty criminals he faced. I inherited his love for tennis - both playing and watching.

I remember him relaxing in his easychair and watching in amazement as his biceps involuntarily twitched. And of course, every afternoon, after I returned from school, him and I would play a game of Scrabble - that was fiercely competitive, mind you!
If I know any flowery language or strange two letter words, you can attribute it to my Thatha. I remember him never complaining about the lack of salt in the sambar and merely adding a pinch before proceeding with his meal.

And, I remember receiving the telegram from my dad at my maternal grandmom's place in Bombay - a terse message that said "Father passed away last night."

A man of values, discipline, patience, perseverance,dignity, courage, scholarship and affection - that was my Thatha. It's been 19+ years since he passed away. But, I think of him and miss him every single day...

Thank you for shaping me into who I am, Thatha!

What Spirit...???

Yes, the Chinese did a fabulous job in organizing the games. But, to be honest, the games lacked spirit. I was in Athens 4 years ago and in Beijing this summer, so I can draw some comparisons.

Beijing was all about efficiency, sans festivity. If you did see some of the latter, it was more orchestrated and forced than spontaneous. But then, I suppose, there's not a whole lot you can expect from a communist nation in terms of expression of ideas, emotions and thoughts.

Why was there no food at the venues??? GRRR!!! (Ok, there was food. But OH MY GOD! Such limited options)

My unscientific estimate of the # of non-Chinese people at the Games: 5 to 10%. China's policy of squeezing VISAs is indeed deplorable.

In my view, China might have made material progress. But, I don't think they have grown as human beings...

Swami...

So, I am re-reading Swami and Friends these days. (Yes, I needed some comfort reading.)
It's the sort of book that makes me laugh no matter how many times I have read it.

Swami: Father, my examinations start from day after tomorrow.
Father: And yet you are roaming around the house like an unleashed donkey!

RK Narayan rules. I hear his brother is a decent cartoonist...