This is the 100th post on my blog and I dedicate it to the only Complete Man I have met, my father...
, Thank You Indiblogger for making it a top post...Dr. K. Kunhikannan (1938-2011) |
I understand that for every daughter,
father is her super-hero, her inspiration.
My father was no exception. For me, he was the complete man. A loving father, a doting grandfather and a doctor who was respected and loved like god by all his patients.
My father was a self-made man. After
losing his father at a tender age of fourteen, he struggled to complete his
studies while taking charge of his family. His life was a continuous struggle but
he never gave up. He did odd jobs to feed his family and get his siblings succeed
in life. He worked as an accountant at a grocer, then became the assistant to
an allopathic doctor, studied to be an ayurvedic pharmacist and then joined
government service as pharmacist.
While there, again his thirst for
knowledge and a quest for complete healing, led him to homoeopathy. Very soon,
our house started to pile up with medical books and he became a very successful
homoeo doctor. His love for homoeopathy he passed on to my brother and sister.
My brother is Chief Homoeo Medical Officer with NCT Delhi and my sister manages
my father’s clinic now that he is gone.
Many roles ,One man |
He was Kannettan (Brother Kannan) to the whole village
and we enjoyed the privileges of being Kannettan’s kids. Wherever we went, we got special
attention, people wanted to return the love he showered selflessly on them.
He
never took money for medicine at home and everyday many would be waiting for
him to come home. To the poor, he was god himself, he would specifically write F on the prescription of patients whom
he knew was poor, so that his assistant would know that no money was to be
charged. Of the hundreds, he treated every day; there would be many such F.
He was a loving brother to his
siblings. He took special interest in their well-being and he was the glue that
bound the whole extended family together. If there were a crisis, he would wade
in and solve it with ease.
For my mother, he was love
personified. Like a dutiful husband, he took great care of her and us and yes,
he never forgot their anniversary. He would give memorable gifts but would joke
aside that he worried about his head lest he forgot the day he became a slave
for life.
He wrote poems, plays and many
articles for the local newspaper. He acted the lead role of that of an old man
in a play he wrote to promote homoeopathy. I remember the songs they had
composed for it and even some dialogues.
He did Yoga everyday and believed to
eat for living and not living to eat. I wish he were near whenever I make
tomato rasam, which was his favourite.
For the kids he was the sweet-man rather than doctor. Kids who refused to go to other doctors marched happily into his consultation room fully confident that he had no syringes and always had a bottle of sweet pills (globules without medicine) ready for them.
My niece was the one pampered most by him, he would always come home with sweets and whatever else she had ordered. My son too loved him and still remember him as his sweet Achacha...
My happy niece with her doting grandparents |
While growing up, I took pride that I
was his pet. I got away with my laziness, nomadic nature and I-don’t-care
attitude just because he stood behind me like an iron pillar of support.
During my kindergarten days, he would
make my breakfast (mostly puttu) delicious by adding mashed bananas, ghee and
sugar and keeping it ready to be eaten. My brother and sister would pretend to
be the Lion and Tiger respectively and come asking for their share. If I did
not give, Lion would get angry, the tiger will roar.
My mother was working too
and she left earlier than my father did. Therefore, he took on the role of
mother too for me.
I will await the sound of his TVS
after school mainly because of the hot buns, omlette and hot tea he will buy
for me at Madhavettan’s shop near the Ayurveda hospital he worked then. He
would be among the last to leave the hospital being a sincere worker. He would
raise voice against the discrimination and corruption happening at the
hospital.
A loving husband, a doting grandpa and a veteran sportsman |
Whatever love for literature I have, I
owe it to him. Starting from the bedtime stories that he read to me, he urged
me to love stories.There was no dearth for books to read at home and he
encouraged me to join the village library as well. Being in Kendriya Vidyalaya,
he took special care that I read more Malayalam books, as we did not have
Malayalam as a subject at school.
I remember he used to give reading
challenges to me. Once during my school vacation, he gave me the Malayalam
translation of Yashpal’s Jhuta Sach, which depicts the crucial period after
Indian Independence and the after effects of the war. The book was almost nine
hundred pages long and he promised me a gift if I finished it before my
vacation was over. I completed it..
The love for the written word gave me
“The best Library User” award at school and I still remember how happy he was
about it.
I used to spend the major chunk of my
pocket money on books and he would never speak a word against it, though my mother
would rant continuously about wasting money. He would then whisper, “IGNORE” to
me.
There was a dictum he wanted us to follow. He never liked us criticizing food. He never complained either. He wanted us to be thankful for what was being served.
Being the prodigal daughter that I
was, I did not choose to follow his steps nor did he insist. I was scared of
the field of medicine. My best score was in biology but I selected engineering
just to be away from the trauma a doctor sees every day. The thick medical
books that adorned the shelf at home were another reason. He did not pester us to become competitive, he wanted us to follow our heart.
There used to be long discussions
between my siblings/ their college mates and him regarding the science
of homoeopathy. He believed in classic homoeopathy and my brother /sister’s
friends would marvel at his knowledge.
He was also a talented football player
and was the captain of the local football team, and had won many tournaments in his youth. Come what may, he used to watch all the world cup football matches and there
would be a crowd of cousins and friends to join him.
When at the age of seventy-four he
left us for a place from there is no return, all of us were in denial for the
longest time. It was unbelievable that our father, who was the brightest
presence in our lives, was no more. During the eight long months that he was
bed ridden after an attack of meningitis, every day we prayed for a miracle. We
believed strongly that he would bounce back, being the fighter that he was.
However, everyday he sank further away into a world of oblivion. He forgot even
how to eat. He did not recognize his loved ones anymore.
Not a person returned dry eyed from
his sickroom. Some ran away crying saying they could not bear seeing such a
kindhearted man struggling.
A cruel march three years ago stole
him from us. We are still learning to deal with the loss. Another march begins
today to remind once again that the radiant sun in our lives has set forever.
Maa Baap kahin nahi jaate,
ReplyDeleteBas aise lagta hai ki wo chale gaye
Per wo jaate nahi,
Kabhi wo aapke hothon se muskurate hain
To kabhi wo aapke chalne ke andaz me jhalak jaate hain
Kabhi wo aapke bete ke naak me dikh jaate hain
Aur nahi to kabhi wo aapke bete ki beti ki aankhon me chhup jate hain
Kabhi wo aapko chaunka detein hain
Aapki hi zuban se nikli kisi baat per, jo unhone boli thi
Wo un loriyon me hain jo aapko yaad bhi nahi
Wo us hichkichahat me hain, jo aap jhoot bolte samay mehsoos kerte hain
Kabhi socha hai ki aap baithe baithe pair kyun hilatein hain
Gullu, Bablu, Pinki jo bhi aapka pyar ka naam hai usme
Kisi tasveer mein
Kisi taareq mein
Aapke andar ki aag mein
Gaur se dekhiye
Ek bahut lambi ladi hai bahut purani
Jiski aap ek kadi hain
Wo aap ke pahle the aur aap ke baad bhi rahenge
Kyunki maa baap kahin jaate nahi
Wo yahin rehte... hain Sadiyon Ke Liye.
Taken from an ad for binani cement!
Thank You for the lines Susmitha... They are lovely...
DeletePreethi, You have given an apt tribute for a godly person- your dad - that too commemorated your 100th Post so well.
ReplyDeleteHis blessings are always with you. May you achieve many more milestones and make him proud.
Thank you Anita.. Yes I believe his blessings are with me...
DeleteIt brings tears to my eyes. Such a lovely post Preethi... daddy's the best... he's the strongest... We are all daddy's galz. And respect for your father... he really deserves respect. :)
ReplyDeleteThank you namrata... We are all daddy's girls and daddy is the best...
DeleteReally a nice post Preethi.. a great tribute to the man who is the biggest inspiration of your life....we daughters are always the apple of eye of our respective fathers and nothing can compensate the loss.. my regards for him..may his soul rest in peace..
ReplyDeleteThank you Maniparna... Yes, nothing can compensate the loss...
DeleteThis is so touching! I can see the greatness in him through your post.
ReplyDeleteThank You Indrani...He was indeed a great man and we miss him very badly...
DeleteBeautiful tribute.
ReplyDeleteThank you Tomichan Matheikal...
Deletereally touching! beautifully written :-) n i cant agree more wen u say that father is a daughter's first hero :-) kudos to ur father (y)
Thank You Swathi... Yes.. father is a daughter's first hero.
DeleteI feel I've seen him in person now, your description is so vivid and wonderful. A befitting tribute to him. And a nice portrait as well. Sorry for your loss. May God Bless you !
ReplyDeleteThank You Sreeja...
DeleteGreat tribute... It was very touching to read this...
ReplyDeleteYes, to all girls, their fathers are super-heroes. I remember on the first page of the book "The Better Man", Anita Nair wrote the following dedication, "To my father, for a better man never tread the earth. For my son, a better man in the making." I never forgot this line, because to all of us, there has been no better man than our fathers..
Thank You Sreesha.. Anita Nair's words ring true to most daughters... For me too, my father is incomparable and a better man never tread earth.
DeleteThe tribute to your father shall be eye opner for current generation who don't appreciate their parents scarifice in their up bringing.THANKS FOR SHARING.
ReplyDeleteYou are a lovable daughter of a great father Preethi... My salutes to his kindness and greatness! It is easy to tell that everyone has to leave one or the other day. But, the fact is that nobody can fill the space, except the memories.
ReplyDeleteRegards,
Sindhu
Tantu
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