VENKATRAMAN ( MAMA)

Venkataraman was universally known and accepted as Mama. A crescent-shaped sandal mark on his forehead, a protruding chin with a three or four days old beard decorating it( I often used to wonder how could he have a three or four days old beard whenever one looked at him), a loose white trouser with a bush shirt on it, an handkerchief ever casually dropped on his shoulders, but would occasionally be shifted to his neck, betel leaves stained rows of teeth, a look, at once stern, occasionally friendly and often hostile, Mama presented me a strange sight when I met him for the first time.

Mama had great precocity in using the typewriter of yore. It was a sheer delight watching him typing letters. His head would shake both ways fiercely and his typing fingers would generate a rhythm that was extremely pleasing to hear and would leave the on lookers stunned. Perhaps, an Alla Rakha or a Shivamani alone could match Mama’s rhythm. Speed, accuracy and presentable appearance were Mama’s magic words.

Though Mama’s august presence, his uncertain temper and frequent outburst, made me uncomfortable and yet, at times, has been a source of inspiration. On friendlier occasions, being younger to him by several years, he would pat me on my back and take me to the nearby Anand Bhuvan for Idli and Coffee.

Ironically, Mama’s friendly moments were also the most hostile ones. He would show his familiarity and share his joy by a forceful slap and not mere friendly pat on the back. Often I had to endure excruciating pain after Mama's affectionate carass.

Hailing from a family which had more members to feed than wherewithal could permit, Mama had to struggle to make both ends meet. Initially he would try to encash his extra ordinary typing ability, However, it was not sufficient to meet his family needs. Once Mama had hired a small one -room tenement at Ulhasnagar ( a distant Mumbai suburb) and was staying there with his younger brother. Often Mama’s brother would reach home only after midnight, after doing several part time jobs on the way. Mama’s allotted duty was to provide hot chappatis to his brother on arrival. Once Mama failed in this assignment as he felt sleepy and when his brother returned home, he had nothing to eat. Historians have recorded the fact that the fourth Panipat War was fought between Mama and his brother in an one room tenement at Ulhasnagar and it did not end in any treaty. Sheer exhaustion alone found a truce.

Mama was not a great lover of cricket. Once, in a match watched by Mama, Bishan Singh Bedi took six wickets and was the tormentor in chief. It was enough provocation for Mama and an unknown Sardarji at Church gate was patted in Mama’s inimitable style, saying “Well done Bedi”, to his consternation. While I was greatly embarrassed, Mama started looking for his next victim. Till the train reached Dadar, at least six Bedis were patted, for their feat.

Physical ailments and vigilance cases - two tormentors around retirement time, any Government or Public Sector servant should be free from, made him an unhappy man at the time of retirement and Mama left the scene under unpleasant circumstances.

When one thinks of Mama what would strike one most is Mama’s total commitment to his family. The sheer size of his family which weighed him down, his extra ordinary typing abilities, his emotional outbursts, friendly pat, which would almost kill a person, the fourth Panipat War, which he lost like the Marathas and which also brought his empire to an end, and his patting every Sardarji for Bedi’s feat.