I. Recollections of My Grandfather by Michelle (Sundharam) Mishra
When I think of Grandfather’s Birth Centenary, I am transported down memory lane to simpler times and carefree days. To a child, the days seemed like they would never end as we were in a rush to grow up and feel as confident as all the grownups around us seemed to be. Thatha (meaning Grandfather in Tamil and how we called him fondly), stood out to me, as someone who had this incredible ability to assimilate seamlessly into our childhood. Each time we visited, he would fill our minds with creative stories and our stomachs with delicious food. Thatha, knew how to enjoy the present and time seemed to fly when we were with him.
My earliest memories are of Thatha getting us roasted peanuts after our lunch during cold winter afternoons. He would take us to those sunny spots around the apartments where we stayed, in order to warm ourselves in the sun. There the squirrels ran up to us feed on peanuts that we had accidentally dropped while deshelling them. We named these squirrels ‘Chip and Dale’ based on the popular cartoon show that we watched on TV. Thatha also brought mangoes for us when it was in season. Somehow the mango seed caught our fancy. My brother and I would imagine the fibre on mango seed as few strands of Thatha’s hair on his head. After biting the last bits of mango flesh around the seed, we would carefully style the ‘hair’ on the seed and show to Thatha what his next hair style could be. I wonder whether Thatha was impressed by our creativity.
No matter how near or far we were, Thatha would always want to know if we were eating well. His love for food was so infectious, I think it ended up spreading to the whole family. From Butter Chicken to Chole Bhature, Thatha was an integral part of my culinary cultivation. Even now I am reminded how much impact one man’s scarcity can have down the generations. This to me is a microcosm of society and how therefore how important charity is.
Speaking of which, the greatest impact I believe Thatha has had, is his sincere efforts to help those less fortunate. Whether Grace Home or through the Church, he had a sense of duty which I believe is a beautiful testament to his faith. While all these memories and life experiences define my grandfather to me, what stays with me the most is his love for family. All his accomplishments registered much later in life for me. What was always at the forefront was his enthusiasm at meeting us and wanting to know more about our lives. Even as children, no matter the age, he didn’t dismiss us. Instead, he chose to share his time and energy in building us up. This is the great legacy I hope to share with my own family too.
I also recollect the Thatha’s love for books. Very often, Thatha would ask me what book I was reading. He would then proceed to remind me to underline and look up the meanings of difficult words to help improve my vocabulary. Till date, I sit with a pencil to read my books and write down the meanings of the words I’m unfamiliar with.
Of course, as one is growing up, one also becomes more curious about the world and people around. The family shenanigans always drew a chuckle from us kids and I learnt that as long as one has family; the hardships of life can be overcome. As I learnt more about Thatha’s childhood and the arduous circumstances he overcame to become successful, the image of my grandfather grew more complex. I now saw a talented, hardworking and driven man who not only pulled himself up in life but enabled others to do so as well. The generosity of both Avva (meaning Grandmother in Tamil) and Thatha in encouraging people to better their prospects has left on me a lasting impression, being firsthand witnesses of Christ’s love. Even with us grandkids, they would inspire to do well in whatever activity we chose to pursue.
II. Recollections of My Grandfather by Nitya Hannah Sundharam
Although, in my few rare visits to Rohini, seeing Thatha’s everyday morning ritual of watching mass on TV, is a fond memory I have.
I remember my Economics teacher from Junior College, having referred a K. P. M. Sundharam’s book to our class. I was quick to tell her of the distant family connection, and I must say her outlook towards me changed, only for the better (or so I think).
I’ve heard from Keith and Michelle, Thatha’s love for food, and how he’d treat all the grandchildren with some street food. And also some story about a mouse that wandered about the Rohini flat, that was given a name by Thatha. Thatha loved naming various animals as cartoon characters. Hence, the neighbour’s cat was Tom, the mouse was Micke, and squirrels on the tree were Chip and Dale. Even a lizard that frequented in the house had a name. Most of these animals found a place in his stories too. This gave me a picture of a fun grandfather vibe, that I wish I was also fortunate enough to have interacted with.
The start of Thatha’s journey with Catholicism was also interesting. I take for granted, my relationship with Jesus, and the traditions of Catholicism. Reflecting on the start of Thatha’s journey with Catholicism, hopefully will help strengthen my faith in the Lord. For had it not been Thatha’s faith in Jesus, I would probably not have known Jesus. And for that, I am very grateful.
III. Recollections of My Grandfather by Jonathan Vivek Savio Sundharam
The exact reason is lost to me now — it might be because my parents were working at that time — but as a very young child, I spent a lot of my time in the Rohini home of Avva and Thatha.
I must have only been around 4 or 5 back then but even at that age, I remember being quite taken with everything about Thatha. I was particularly fascinated by his evening ritual of taking out a bottle of whiskey from a shelf in his room, and pouring out a measure into a crystal glass. I had no idea what was in that tumbler but when I saw Thatha swirling that golden liquid, looking like the most sophisticated man I’d seen, I desperately wanted to have it myself. Perhaps Thatha knew the mentality of a kid — the more you forbid them something, the more they are obsessed with it.
So when I told Thatha I wanted to try what he was drinking, he didn’t lie to me and say it was something other than it was. ‘Sure I could have a sip’ he told me.
Eagerly I took my first sip of the stuff. I had imagined it to be something like honey — that was after all what it looked like. It turned out to be perhaps the most vile thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.
I remember Thatha grinning and asking me if I wanted any more but my experimentation with booze began and ended that day! Any time someone offers me a glass at a party, I almost instinctively recoil when I think about that awful first experience. I often smile when I think about how K. P. M. Sundharam may have made many economists out of young men over the course of his career but as a grandfather he turned a kid fascinated with alcohol into a lifelong teetotaller!
IV. Recollections of my Father-in-Law by Shobha Sundharam
I was introduced to my future father-in-law before I met his son. This was when I had to teach Economics to ninth graders. Being a history student, economics was Greek to me, not for long. I got hold of this book on Indian Economy by K. P.M. Sundharam and Ruddar Dutt. This was a Bible for me then.
So when I actually was face-to-face with the author, I was elated. But what struck me most was his demeanour. He never once talked about his book. Instead it was all about life that was spelt outside the chapters of his book.
He took me to his nostalgic past. I loved the way he talked of two-anna (paise) to one rupee leap in our country’s progress.
Then there were episodes of his college days, his journey as a professor when he actually landed up a job in the St. Stephens College!
Not to miss on the very humorous anecdotes that included by the way, of someone recommending him to be an actor in South movies!
To me, he said, to spend less time in the kitchen and write more, that is etched in my mind. May his legacy reign supreme beyond hundred years.
V. Recollections of my Grandfather by Keith Sundharam
My earliest memory of Thatha was probably when I was in 3rd or 4th standard and studying in a school in Delhi.
No memory of Thatha can ever be complete without the topic of food or his story-telling ability. Good food had always been a passion for Thatha. He used to make breakfast for us as Avva was not keeping too well. He not only had the passion but his hands too could make food more tasty. It wasn’t any fancy food just simple buttered toast with ham, Maggi with carefully sliced omelette or even Paratha with eggs (which was one of my favourite).
I remember that he would prepare the breakfast for my sister Michelle and me. Later, we were dropped off to school. His gift of filling our stomach was accompanied by nurturing our mind with stories. The story of Leo, the rat was the most compelling among them.
Leo was the James Bond of all rats. Even James Bond was probably not smart enough to match Leo’s antics. The stories would be of how Leo would save the day by outwitting his enemy. Avva, who would lay a trap to capture rats and then dispose off the captured rats by drowning them in a bucket of water, happened to be Leo’s only enemy. In each story, Leo would come out with new schemes to prevent his detection and subsequent escape from the jaws of death. Whenever Leo was captured, he would hold his breath and pretend to be dead and when his “body” was thrown out, he would spring back to life. Then, Leo would sneak back into the house and would reside in Thatha’s pocket. We would never question Leo’s existence but just accepted Thatha’s stories as a matter of fact. As we listened intently to the stories of Leo, the rat and his adventures, we found that the food we ate alongside became magically more delicious. Those Paratha and eggs never tasted as good without those accompanying stories.
VI. Recollections of my Grandfather by Joanna Shruti Sundharam
The quality I remember most about Thatha is that he wasn’t just generous with money; he gave his time, energy, and affection to anyone who needed it. I remember when I first joined the Church Youth Group, I quickly discovered that he was nothing short of a local hero. Everyone, from the youngest members to the elders, seemed to know him, respect him, and have a story about how he had helped them. What’s amazing is that he never spoke about what he had done for anyone, ever. It possibly came from the fact that he had to overcome many obstacles himself growing up. To me, his biggest gift was the way he encouraged me to write – from poems to short stories. I still remember how he sincerely praised even my simplest attempts. It was his unwavering belief in me that gave me the courage to submit a short story to Children’s World magazine. When it got published, he was as thrilled as I was.
Thatha also loved eating and ensuring everyone around him ate well. My love for pork sausages, ham, and bacon definitely comes from him! Growing up, I distinctly remember our post-dinner ice cream trips to the ice cream stand nearby. Even though we were supposed to bring home a brick of ice cream, which was more cost-effective for feeding a big family, he didn’t mind getting us kids individual ice cream sticks. He was never stingy, not with ice cream, and certainly not with his love.
VII. Recollections of My Grandfather by John Sushant Sundharam
My earliest recollection of Thata (my grandfather) was probably when I was less than ten years old. At that time, my parents used to pick up Thatha from his home enroute while going to the Church for Sunday mass. Once we were getting delayed to the Church as I had got up a bit late. Thatha told me that even if I reached the mass late, we should at least be in time to hear when the priest finally says, “Go the Mass has ended”. ‘Only then, we can come back satisfied that we have attended mass’, Thatha had concluded then. Since I was really young, I did not know that he was being sarcastic and thought he was a very bad Christian for the longest time. Only once I grew up, did I realise that this wasn’t actually the case.
My taste for ‘Salami’ was thanks to my grandfather. In those days, I was a bit fussy about food like most children. I liked only curd rice accompanied with some stir-fried veggies. Once we had gone to my grandfather’s place for Christmas and I remember him making a salami sandwich which had a distinct taste. The smell and taste was really wonderful and I relish salami sandwiches to this day.
Much later, when I was in College, I showed him how I can search for anything on the Internet on my phone. I showed him how I can search for his favourite book “The Song of Bernadette” and its author “Franz Werfel” on my phone. I even read him a few lines from Wikipedia and he really thought I was a genius of some kind. He was keen to understand as to how this ‘Internet’ worked but I somehow found it difficult to explain it him in simple, jargon-free language.
Each time I met my grandfather, he would ask me about what I was currently doing, my career, my hobbies and interests. When I mentioned to him about joining ‘Linked-In’ (a Microsoft Company) in Bengaluru, he mentioned that I could hope to become its Indian CEO like Satya Nadela or to Google’s Sundar Pichai one day. It was a bit embarrassing but also felt great that he believed much more in me than I did in myself. I believe that it did help me greatly in achieving what I have so far and continue to.
I feel that my grandfather was a typical ‘Sundharam man’ and seemed to have “mood swings” like all of us. I could observe this in my father and my uncles and even in my own behaviour. If he didn’t want to talk, he would just go inside to his bedroom without really saying much. But if he wanted to talk, he could spend hours talking – it was always a coin-flip with him. When he was in a good mood, he loved to talk a great deal about his childhood and students that he taught. Unfortunately, I don’t have a strong enough recollection to remember these stories.
I have some regrets about not being able to spend enough time with him. I feel like I was too young to have the intellectual capacity to talk with him most of my life, and then when I finally did, I simply wasn’t in Delhi. In the last few years when I was in Delhi, I did try my best even though it wasn’t always easy. Had I been older, I believe I would’ve remembered a lot more things and had so many more conversations with him.
VIII. Recollections of my Uncle by Jah Dev Dorairaj
I remember my Mama (or Uncle in Tamil) had an old Ambassador car. When we were small children, we all looked forward to our Mama giving us a lift back home after Sunday mass from St Xavier School to our home at Jawahar Nagar. My father and I used to sit in the front seat. On one such occasion, while returning back home after Sunday Mass, I mistakenly pushed the gear without Mama’s knowledge. I was about 6 or 7 years old then. The car came to neutral gear and there was loss of power. Mama wondered what was wrong with the car and why was it not responding to the accelerator pedal. He stopped the car and then he tried changing the gear. He found that it was in neutral. Mama looked at me and asked if I had accidentally touched the gear or not. I said yes and he told me in a stern tone not to do that again. I felt guilty. This is one naughty incident that has always been on the back of my mind all these years.
IX. ‘Thatha Tales’ – Recollections of my Grandfather by Lourdes Supriya Sundharam
[Note by Author : I read through all the tribute links. I especially liked the scan of the 1995- article ‘Economy of Compassion’ by Ajay Ghosh. It really brought out how Thatha truly walked the talk when it came to working for the socially marginalised. Of course, my favourite page was reading from all the cousins. It made me miss Thatha a lot. I don’t know if I can ever put into words, the influence he has had on me.]
My earliest childhood recollections of ‘Thata’ (or ‘Thathu’ as I called him affectionately) is of when he used to visit Ozanam Home over the weekends for many years and take my twin sister Grace and me with him. Even when we were kids, he would talk to us like an equal. His social bent was one of the things we talked about repeatedly asking him about what motivated him to start Grace Home; what was the point of the Sundharam Education Trust; when was he associated with Ozanam Home; how did he decide whom to help when so many came to him etc. He always engaged so very seriously with our questions even when we were kids. Obviously, as we grew up, he could elaborate and explain himself more. I suppose it’s only by high school that I truly started understanding and appreciating the underlying principles and values behind his reasons, and all of them stemmed from an abiding respect and compassion for his fellow human beings.
Thatha became a prominent figure in our life right from the time we were born. I cannot say ‘my earliest memory of Thatha because he would have been present even before I could even consciously think of memories. And especially because of what happened with mom, he was so heavily invested in our lives that he was like another parent figure, having a say in our education, in our extra curriculars, our hobbies, our breaks, going to PTMs when our Dad was busy, staying in our house when he had to go out of station, us spending our weekends at Thatha-Avva’s. He spent so much time and energy on us, teaching us how to play hopscotch, narrating entire novels as bed time stories, getting us books every Sunday for years, spending hours reading the ‘novels’ I wrote in his notepads, teaching me maths then (as I grew older) economics, but best of all, teaching me not to take anything I read or hear at face value, to always think beyond the literal.
I’ve been crazy lucky with parent-figures in my life that way, having found one in my late theatre teacher as well, because all of them are men but the very best kind of men, very progressive and committed to the cause of the downtrodden. The first of those men was Thatha, and I think he set the standard for everyone who came after him. He was a rare person, a critical thinker far ahead of his times. I am very grateful to have known him.
What seems to me to be his real essence is that Thatha had an acute awareness of the suffering of the masses because of his own early hardships. Those experiences had turned his compassion outwards, towards the people, and wanting to make sure that he could help them so he could spare them from some of the misery he had to see. Maybe this was his attempt to comfort the little boy in his heart who often had to go to great lengths to find a helping hand. He became the person he had needed as a child. Not just people at large, even with us, he was always so encouraging and generous in his praise. For all of us cousins, he was our biggest ‘hype man.’
I wish I had spent the last couple of years repaying the debt, being his hype granddaughter, telling him he was ‘first class first’ as a grandfather, the ‘top man’ for the job, ‘best in the East of Suez’ (all of Thatha’s oft-used words!). My friends say I can still ‘talk’ to him, or that he can feel all the love I have for him. But the rationalist in me makes it impossible to believe all this, to have any conversation with him now; his departure is an abrupt ending, final, without recourse. I can’t reach him. So, I comfort myself with these lines instead, telling myself how incredibly fortunate I am to have had a grandfather like him, first class guy, top man, best ‘Thathu’ ever.