Appa, The Essential Spirit I Knew By Padmini Ashok
“T
he coffee you made for dad this evening was his last”, said Ashok, when I returned his missed call. He told me, “Some careless rider hit him near the main gate of M.N. Krishna Rao Park and scooted away. We are at NIMHANS. He succumbed to a serious head injury.” This was probably the most unbelievable, bizarre happening in my life. How could V. Balu, my father-in-law, simply cease to exist just a hundred meters away from our house?
smoking ? The one that is th ou m ng ro w e Which is th V.Balu© - Paper collage by
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Appa was a man who was least conscious about pampering his body. Yet he protected it, for it was God’s gift for him, the soul, the spirit, the thoughts of peace and harmony, all of which he tried to portray and present through what he painted, pasted and penned. He only ate simple vegetarian food. He never lit a cigarette, but made collages to educate. I never saw him consume alcohol. He was a globetrotter, yet he never crossed a busy street. Often, the driver drove him even to the bank in the neighborhood. If he ever had a fever, his share of food would be left over that day, but plenty of warm water and hot tea flushed the fever while he slept his weight off to gravity. If he ever had a cold, the house would be filled with the aroma of either Tiger Balm or Vicks or eucalyptus oil or gargling with salt water to keep the cough away. Oranges or sweet limes, or skinned apples supplemented both Homoeopathic and Allopathic medicines. I would have accepted a quiet and peaceful night, which might have silenced Appa forever. Not a rash scooterist! Not such violence !
I had seen him rub off his sense of humour on many. He had a sense of humour even about death, be it even about his beloved wife. He had told me. “She used to keep a kiln in our backyard for her ceramic work, but one day she herself had to go into the kiln! Hahaha!” He would also say, “If you become too tense, you will also become past tense.” It still makes me laugh. He much ridiculed the folly of human desire and spite. His favourite example was from the‘Charuvaka Philosophy’, ‘Rnam krtvaa, ghrtam pibeth’, translated as, ‘eat ghee even if you have to be indebted’! He loved eating ghee with his food. He always joked about a llage by V.Balu© co r pe Pa gy er En particular community who were supposed to be known Flow of Peace for consuming so much ghee during their lifetime,
that their mortal remains, only needed a lit matchstick. There would be no need for firewood! But deep within, he was a spirit who knew he would only move on. Many who interacted with him took home this value of life in death. The only time I felt a whiff of this idea was when my music guru visited our home with his wife. It was the one and only time when I had insisted that Appa remained home to meet with them. It was only then, I learnt that Appa was very closely associated with my Guru’s grandfather, Gottuvaadya Narayana Iyengar, in Mysore. Appa spoke to us about the last live concert of Narayana Iyengar on AIR, which he had heard only hours before the musician had passed away. In fact, my guru also spoke about the same concert, which he had read about in a book written by Kuvempu’s granddaughter only a couple of days ago. Incidentally, I only wanted Appa to show my Guru, the set of collages, which he had made, based on Kuvempu’s poem ‘Anikethana’. Appa was so surprised, that he jokingly told my guru “Oh I am meeting you in your next birth” and we all had a good laugh. Tracing back to Sept. 13, 2007, we had a few visitors the following day, who were witness to the fatal event. One man’s report touched me. I don’t even know who he was. He said that while two young men helped Appa to sit by the pavement, after he was hit by the scooterist, Appa simply closed his eyes very quietly, silent as if with the will to heal the wound. There, I would like to say I believe, was the human spirit in prayer, knowing it was moving on! Om Shantih Shantih Shantihi ! Few people live life to be contented with what they do. Fewer still go home without regrets. Even as I would recall from memory, the soulful tune of a poem written by C. Rajagopalachari, and rendered by Appa’s good friend and favourite vocalist M.S.Subbulakshmi,
Kurai Ondrum Illai, Malai Moorthi KaNNa, Kurai Ondrum Illai KaNNa, Kurai Ondrum Illai Govinda (Roughly translated this means “I have No Regrets, Lord Govinda. Lord of the Hills, I have no regrets at all”…)
I can almost imagine Appa singing it, from where ever he is right now !