Gratitude Challenge – Day Five

It was again late in the evening and we were visiting Guntur.  I just heard about the new school there.  I do not remember if there was a power cut or some local problem.   We, that is I and a couple of boyhood friends, went visiting.  It was dark.  Some of the students were already sleeping on bed spreads laid on the mat.  *Maamma (మామ్మ – meaning granny in English ) was around.  This was sometime around 66 – 68.

I used to visit Tenali which happens to be mother’s native.  She was born there you see. I used to visit Tenali, Guntur during my holidays.  Had some real good fun there and again life taught me many lessons during those visits.

There was a call for me one evening from Ms. Devi, (to them anyway).  She is one of the founders of the school at Guntur I was referring to earlier. For me she was always Mangadevakka (మంగాదేవక్క – Manga Devi Akka meaning, sister Manga Devi).

Manga Devi
Dr Nannapaneni Manga Devi

I went to visit her in the morning.  Akka is always direct.  She told me that a publisher had approached her and wanted her to prepare a text book for the primary classes.  I have heard of this publisher and he is known for readers and supplementary books aimed at the primary classes.  Quite casually, she suggested me that I should write the book.  That was like a bolt from the blue. I do not know what gave her the idea that I could write a reader / text book for the primary classes.  I said, “I will think it over”.   That is one way of wriggling out of that unsavory condition.

I?  Writing or preparing an English primer?!  She did not relent, until I began.  Her refrain was always the same.  “It is there in your genes.  Do it.  You can do it”.  I yielded and I did, on a old Remington typewriter (I still have it) with her support, guidance and inputs and directions.  And the best part is, the publisher paid me for it.  That way it is Dr. Nannapaneni Manga Devi, the founder of  Sri Venkateswara Bala Kuteer, Guntur who made me write my first book , if I can call it a book.  Later I was visiting a lambadi farmers’ thanda in the interiors of Nalgonda district and I found that book there.  It reminded me of Mangadevakka.  If she hadn’t, perhaps I would never have .  Thank you Mangadevakka.  Thank you once again.

*mamma   by the way is Mangadevakka’s mother.

***

I later met him at Vijayawada. We had some common friends.  Tall and lanky guy.  With a certain rustic charm about him. Even today he reminds me of a farmer who is more comfortable in a farm tending to his cattle and farming.  A rustic villager who enjoys reading a poem when he has the time.  With quite a sharp wit and a heart full of love.  With boundless energy. I do not know what he saw in me but he felt I should write.  That my writings should help the younger generation. This was almost a decade ago.  Without his relentless perusal, my columns wouldn’t have appeared in Andhrajyothy‘ s weekly supplement Diksuchi  that used to come out in the form of a pull out magazine, in those days.  Now it is part of a broad sheet.

I believe it is the first time in the annals of Telugu magazine publishing a two page colored spread out was out-sourced to a single columnist.  That column was ePadam. (ఇ పదం)  At the same time I had to also contribute to an other column and that was Career Corner .  Again in the same diksuchi ( దిక్సూచి).  Those two columns appeared for a few years and ran into couple of hundreds.  The editor then was K Ramachandra Murthy and it was Kiran G  who was looking after “Diksuchi“. Katta Sekhar Reddy   who is the CEO  of  Namaste Telangana  now was then with Andhrajyothy.  Thank you all friends.

And this gent did not leave me there.  Along with his wife (I truly believe she was brought into this world just for him) he appeared at my home one morning with a basketful of vegetables.  They went into my kitchen and began to cook.  All the time they made sure I was with them and giving me instructions on how to go about cooking those veggies. I had noting to do and I was helping them with an open mouth and trying to absorb what was happening around me.  You know what?

That morning they went to the Erragadda Ryot Bazaar and bought all those vegetables just for me as if they had nothing else to do.  They have two beautiful daughters who need her attention.  He had an important job and is in a responsible position with a major Telugu news publishing entity,  Andhrajyothy.  But still they made enough time to take care of my health and want me to live longer.  Oh my what a great couple!  Gratitude  you say!

Ramineni Srikrishna Prasad_AnilAtluri
Ramineni Srikrishna Prasad

I began this with “I later met him at Vijayawada.”  Actually, we met at Madras, when he was still a student at the SV University.  He visited our book store then. We did not know then but we remember now, the where and how and the who of it.  Thank you KP, thank you for everything.   Gratitude you say!

***
Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty five and then you lose count.   They were willing to pay in advance to book a copy.  It was just a weekly magazine. Not a book, not a novel of fiction. Why was that?  It was a serial that was appearing.  That had the whole Telugu reading world in its grip.   Needless to say he had changed the commercial dynamics of the Telugu publishing industry.  I know of publishers who offered him blank checks.  He went on to create history whichever portal he had entered.

He was contributing to The Hindu, the largest circulated English daily newspaper  in South India and the only Indian English news daily that was publishing simultaneously from different places in India.  He was a regular columnist in that daily and his column was reaching a few million readers especially students and their parents.

I used to follow his column and one day I found something inconsistent with the style of his narration.  I emailed him with my opinion and suggestion. He called back.  He was planning to publish that column as a book and he enquired if  if I would be interested in doing the job.  I had my hesitations. I said I will try. He couriered me the complete script.  I took my time.  Did a few chapters and emailed it to him. I was damned sure he was not going to call back and that was that.

One fine morning he calls me to inform that the whole work I had sent had been forwarded to the publisher.  I said, “No you shouldn’t be doing it. You should have someone else to go through the copy”.  He said, “I liked what you did Anil garu. It must have reached the printer by this time and they most probably are printing it.  Please tell me how much I should pay you.”  I did not know what to say.  It was not money, it was not fame that I was seeking then.  I wanted a break from the enormous stressful situation that I was in, living 24/7 with a terminal patient at home.  I said, “No, I am not accepting any money”.  He was equally emphatic, “I do not accept anything free”.  Then he found a solution.  He would gift me a set of his books. We made a deal and I was happy about it.

One more surprise was in store for me.

He acknowledged my services.  In fact he added something in there which I felt I did not deserve and I changed it to read as it appears in that book today.  He is none other than Yandamoori Veerendranath, the playwright, the master story teller, the author, the film director, the Chartered Accountant and …

Yandamoori Veerendranath
Yandamoori Veerendranath

Thank you Yandamoori garu.

Note:  This is the fifth and the final part of the Gratitude Challenge (Day Five).  This is a post that I posted on my Facebook wall and I felt that confining it to that SMN is not right and that it should reach out to more people.  That is why you see it here.Well, I guess that sort of sums up for the day five and it is over.  You will not be burdened to follow because this stops here.  Thank you being here.

Gratitude Challenge – Day Four

He was my father’s contemporary.  He was my father’s friend.  Many do not know that he was the man who published “vishalandhra” (విశాలాంధ్ర)  from Madras which later became the Communist party’s Telugu daily newspaper.  He is the man who brought to light Guradazada’s ‘dEsabhakti’  (దేశభక్తి) poem penned by his own hand.  He was the editor of “Soviet Land” a periodical published from Madras.  He was one of the founder members of “arasam” (అరసం – భ్యుదయచయితల సంఘం).  A chapter of “Arasam” came into being in Madras and my mother was one of the founder members of that chapter and it used to conduct its meetings from our bookstore.  The literary giants of the day used to attend those meetings and so were the film personalities especially from the Telugu film industry.  It was left to me being the youngest of them all to spread the mats, arrange for refreshments.  I also used to prepare the invitations.  Invitations were nothing but post cards sold by the Posts and  Telegraph department.  I had to write the program and post them.  During those days he used to visit our book store and spend long hours in the evenings after his office hours.  He was Setti  Eswara Rao. I did not know then that he had been observing me keenly.  It was he who first mentioned that I had a gift and I should hone it.  He was referring to me and my reading habits and my writing skills.  That is the second time in my life someone mentioned that I had a certain talent.  A talent to read and write.  Of course, he did not mention it to me, I do not know why, but he always took an interest and encouraged me to write.  There were times I used to scribble and throw them away.  That is until a few years ago.  Unfortunately I do not have any of his pictures at this time and this will have to do.  Yes, I am grateful to Setti  Eswara Rao garu.

Gurazada By Setti Eswara Rao
Gurazada By Setti Eswara Rao

***

It was in 1987, on February 13th the Government of India issued a commemorative multi colored postal stamp on my maternal grandfather “Kaviraju” Tripuraneni Ramaswamy.  His daughter Chouda Rani is my mother.  Atluri Pitcheswara Rao is my father. (He was a naval engineer, he served the Royal Indian Navy and subsequently when India won her independence he became part of the Indian navy.  He participated in the Royal Indian Mutiny, against the British).  I am their only child.  My father passed away while I was very young.

During an interview with BBC
Smt Mohini Giri, during an interview with BBC

So my mother and I were at New Delhi to attend the postage stamp release function by the the then President of India Giani Zail Singh. Smt Lakshmi Raghuramaiah  wife of  Sri. Kotha Raghuramaiah who held many prominent positions in the GOI, had made an appointment with the founder president of the War Widows Association. So we went to visit her.  After a few minutes of chat she chose me to be the topic and was asking my mother about me.  At the end of the discussion she had only this to say to my mother.  “With your love for your only son, you are stifling him.  Leave him with me and you will be proud to be his mother.  Please listen to me”.  Of course I do not know what hidden talents (which I am not aware of ) she was impressed about, but she is an other person in my life who in as many words made a deep impression about my own self-worth.  Here is a total stranger, an elderly person, who had seen a world at much higher plane and found something in me that to this day haunts me.  Gratitude, yes certainly for letting me know something I did not know until then.

***
“Start immediately. Stop.  Mother Serious.”  That’s why telegrams were dreaded those days.  The minute they see the postman at an odd hour visit you by on his cycle with a pink document folded and sealed, one is always terrified.  I remember one particular instance. That telegram came late in the evening almost when it was night.   The minute my father opened it and read it out my mother started weeping.  It informed us that her mother passed away.  Those were the days of Telegrams and Wires.

My father had a friend who was into international trade.  Exports and imports.  He used to travel abroad quite often.  He used to send me beautiful picture postcards from all those countries he used to visit.  That was his way of saying, that I was in his thoughts. Madras is the only international airport in the peninsular India then and the gateway to the world, at least to those who could afford to fly.  During one of his returns to India, invariably he visited me and took me out.  He had something to convey to his importer in Europe.  He took me to the GPO (General Post Office), on Mount Road, they call it Anna Salai now.  That is the first time I was exposed to a Telex machine and international communication.  He is the first exporter I ever came across.  I filed it away as an other memory.  Period.

Later I came to know a lot more about International Trade and commerce and many other components of the trade.  I knew what was a Fax.  I knew about ships.  Containers. Precision. Strict Quality Checks. Pricing.  Vendor Negotiations.  International markets. Different Cultures across the continents.  Penalties for delays.  LC’s.  Red LC’s.  Open LC’s. Packings and packagings. Services.  Cargo. Flights. Samples.  Foreign Exchange.  Dollar Terms.  Taxes.  Licences.  Permits. Quotas.

And it was not the mundane affairs of the transcontinental commerce alone.  It helped me sit up and open my eyes and observe those human creatures that clothe themselves in billion shades of grey and white and in between.  I am a good listener and have always been one but with this man I have become a better listener.

All this was made possible by one man’s implicit faith in an other human being and his deliverables.  He was always pushing me to my limits.  He knew more about me than I knew about myself.   Every time I thought I reached my limits, he used to nudge me.  A very small nudge.  That nudge helped me leap.  Thanks to him today I am a totally different man.  Today I can very confidently claim that I do not need any nudging.  I can reach out and cross limits beyond my very own limits set at the horizon.  I set them, I tried them and I reached them successfully, every time.

Aditya Pamulapati                                                                                                                       Aditya Pamulapati

Love you Aditya.  I do not know where I would be without you in my life.   This is not Gratitude.   This is sheer unadulterated  celebration of joy and of friendship.  Thank you dude!  

Note:  This is the fourth part of the Gratitude Challenge (Day Four).  This is a post that I posted on my Facebook wall and I felt that confining it to that SMN is not right and that it should reach out to more people.  That is why you see it here.Well, I guess that sort of sums up for the day four.  It’s been hectic and one more day to go.

Gratitude Challenge – Day Three

All I remember now is that I wanted to watch the  movie Arangetram directed by K Balachander. It was being screened in Krishnaveni theatre at that time.  Sometime around ’72.

Remember those good old taxis of Madras?  Amby (Amabassador car for the uninitiated), Fiats and an Austin here and there along with a few standard Heralds were plying as taxis then on the roads of Madras.  One fateful evening, way back in the 70’s, I had my usual cuppa tea at Hameediya Hotel and Bakery, acorss our book store and was crossing the famous Pondy Bazaar, (I read somewehre online in the past few hours, it is Asia’s busiest retail market with lakhs and lakhs of footfalls) to reach our store the other side.  There was a cyclist and a fiat taxi to my right and the cyclist was a middle aged man.  To cut to chase, I wanted the cyclist to avoid the taxi and thus it so happened that the left rear tyre of the taxi ran over the big toe of my right foot.  Well, I did not fall or anything, but with that bleeding toe trailing a stream of blood, I crossed half the lane and entered the other lane. That is when they noticed that I was leaving a trail of blood across the road.  They were Muhammad Ali of Taj Watch Co, our neighbor and, Taji Prasad – popular for his sports column in Andhrajyothi weekly, who was chatting with my mother.  Before they could reach me I reached the store and sat down on front extension.  Needless to say, there was a lot of commotion all around.  It was Taji Prasad, who very gently as if I was a piece of Waterford Crystal Glassware, bodily lifted me and placed me in a taxi that rushed to pick me up from the taxi stand around the corner.  Obviously, the mother and son duo were popular.

But that is not the what I want to share with you all.  It is Taji Prasad and his love and affection towards me, that I want to share.  It  still drenches me when we meet and the meets are quite rare now a days.  In spite of time and distance he is still there in my thoughts.  That warm touch, it radiates a certain energy and that fills oneself to the brim and at times overflows.  Gratitude, you say?

అట్లూరి పుండరీకాక్షయ్య

He is younger than my father.  I still call him peda naanna (పెద నాన్న).  A unique way to relate to a paternal uncle, a father’s elder brother.  It was my “peda naanna” that my father in his last minutes wished us to take him to.  We did, but then it was too late.  It was my ‘peda naanna’ again who sat next to me and made me do all those things that help the soul “rest peacefully”.  Again it was my “peda naanna” who insisted on me going through all those rituals when my mother passed away. He is Atluri Pundarikakshiah    It so happens that today is his birthday. He was always there and he would be always there.  Gratitude you say.

Dr Ramana V Dandamudi
Dr Ramana V Dandamudi

There are doctors and doctors and many doctors and there are those who charge that they simply are out of one’s reach.  There are some who are always there as if they they are born to be with you when you need them the most.  In Andhra Pradesh and Telangana there are a few kids and their parents who are alive today because he made sure that they would fight and win the toughest battle against a disease that is at times terminal.  Some of these kids were looking into its eyes and this doctor *Ramana was right there next to them and gave them a great life to live and spread happiness around.  There are times when I saw him give them his undivided professional attention, offer his expertise, medicines and I knowof instances where he parted with money too when the patient couldn’t afford to..you know what.  And he allowed me to be a part of some great things he did to those patients and the families around.  Gratitude you said.

Thank you that is all for today.

Note:  This is the third part of the Gratitude Challenge (Day Three).  This is a post that I posted on my Facebook wall and I felt that confining it to that SMN is not right and that it should reach out to more people.  That is why you see it here.Well, I guess that sort of sums up for the day three.  It’s been hectic and two more days to go.

* Dr Ramana, offers his expertise at Little Stars Children’s Hospital, Plot No 30, Nagarjuna Hills, Near Brisah, Panjagutta, Hyderabad – 500082 .  Ph:  +(91)-40-6666 2345, +(91)-95050 78600

Gratitude Challenge – Day Two

                                        The heart has no wrinkles

1 –  “No, I can’t let him go” she said. “He’ll be with us for as long as he wants to.”  That’s what Ellen Sharma, the founder of Children’s Garden School, Madras, said when she was approached by my relatives when they wanted to remove me from the school and take me with them.  This happened when my father passed away and I was alone with my mother.  That’s where I learnt a whole lot more about life.

Ellen Sharma Children's Garden School
Founder Member Children’s Garden School


Ellen Sharma
, how can I forget her?  How can I forget V. N Sharma her husband who always had a smile on his face and used to borrow books from my dad’s library? And it was such a pleasure to run those errands carrying those books back and forth!! Gratitude! Yes, if that is the word.

2 –  They used to call it “Erra Meda” ( ఎర్ర మేడ – Red Building).  The evening turned to night.  I was sitting there in a corner when he walked in and the hall erupted with noise.  It was my cousins chirping and they all ran towards him.  With a large smile, he pulled out a fistful of coins from his trousers and dropped them into every open palm spread out before him.  Well, he is their father.  Something was just about to crack into a billion pieces and began to ache within me.  That’s when he came towards me, caught me by my hand, opened my palm and dropped the coins he had saved for me.  He looked into my eyes and I looked back into those kind eyes that were full of love, warmth and they were smiling.

Tripuraneni Gokulchnad - litterateur
Tripuraneni Gokulchand

He is Tripuraneni Gokulchand, this world does not know much about, perhaps that is the way he wanted to be, though I wonder.  He is the youngest son of  KavirajuTripuraneni Ramaswamy.  My mother is Atluri Chouda Rani. She is his younger sister.  And thus I am his nephew.  Gratitude did you say?

3 – It was sometime around 70 or 71.  I was home and the postman delivered me a small brown paper parcel.  It came by registered post.  Brown paper covered all the sides.  The twine thread with a perfect knot to a side and trimmed with just enough to hold between your fingers, held the cover in place. The postage stamps were at the top right corner.  Our address written in perfect handwriting, almost like caligraphy, perfectly placed at the center of the packet.  So was the from address.  Lower left corner of the packet.  I did not have the heart to tear it open but I did.  I took a pair of scissors and cut it open from one side.  Gently pulled out the contents.  There is an other layer of newspaper.  This too is neatly folded around the content which was rectangular in shape and slightly hard.  Opend the flaps of the newspaper from one side and in lay a book.  Beautifully wrapped up in a thick tissue paper, what we call butter paper.  It is translucent, enough to help you make out the title of the book.

Chalasani Prasada Rao, a caricature R K Laxman
Chalasani Prasada Rao – a caricature by R K Laxman

It is “kathalu kaakarakayalu” (కథలు కాకరకాయలు – Ed -1968).  A short story collection by Chalasani Prasada Rao. I did not know who he was.  I turned over the pages.  I found the following words “keerthisEshu’DuAtluri Pitcheswara Rao ki”  (“కీర్తిశేషు ‘డు‘ ” అట్లూరి పిచ్చేశ్వరరావు కి).   I met him a few years later and came to know that he was the editor, magazines Eenadu.  What I couldn’t comprehend then was why would anyone that too a stranger dedicate a book to my father and ?!  Gratitude did you say?

Note:  This is the second part of the Gratitude Challenge Day TwoThis is a post that I posted on my Facebook wall and I felt that confining it to that SMN is not right and that it should reach out to more people.  That is why you see it here. 

Gratitude Challenge – Day One

She threw me a challenge.

That’s right, she did it yesterday. But then she thought it was a “challenge”.   I don’t think it is. It is so simple for me. Here are my reasons.

1- Am grateful to my parents for teaching me so many things. Especially my dad Pitcheswara Rao Atluri. Though I got to know him for only may be 5 or 6 years. But he is still around who inspires me to do the things that I am doing now.

2 – To my mother, a young housewife who became a widow, fought against extremely tough odds all alone to bring me up and offer me the best within her means.

3 – To my wife who loved me more than anything else in her life , even while fighting valiantly a losing battle gave her all to offer me the best she could until her last breath from a bed she knew she would retire early from this life.

I am also grateful to all those men and women who continue to teach me what life is all about and help me lead a full and better life.

Oh I guess I will have to nominate two individuals for this “Gratitude Challenge” and I nominate Sai Padma (Six wheelchairs donated to AU library) and Rajagopal Kantamneni  (Rareman with a rare mission )to take up this “Gratitude Challenge”

Oh I forgot to mention the person who threw this at me. She is Aparna Thota and I thank you Aparna for this opportunity.

 

Gratitude
Gratitude is the memory of heart

 

Note:  This is a post that I posted on my Facebook wall and I felt that confining it to that SMN is not right and that it should reach out to more people.  That is why you see it here.  Thank you for visiting.