Today is my 72nd birthday – I gingerly enter my 73rd year. November 20 is also the 50th death anniversary of my father. Years roll on…
Bhai, as I used to address him, was a mix of personalities. A serious student of Chemistry, he used to read the latest books on Chemistry, lying in bed late into the night. The American books that he bought were expensive, but Chemistry was his passion and he read them as if they were thrilling spy stories.
Reading the Chemistry books then turned into experimentation at home to test the newest theories. Baa, who used to get irritated at all the mess that the experiments created in the kitchen, had no choice but to clean up after him.
Out of all such relentless experiments arose novel projects and products: school slates made out of cardboard; watercolors that could have, would have, been on par with the Windsor & Newton, the best in the market back in those days; poster colours used to make Bollywood cinema posters; and ‘Mango Delights’, which looked like shavings of aam papad and were made by warming up mango pulp along with tiny round marbles (lakhoti) in a pan, to name just a few.
Some of Bhai’s industrialist friends enticed him to part with his latest know-how and got rich in the process. Bhai was booted out as soon as their interests were served. Poor Bhai, the simpleton, never figured out how to strike a good deal and make some use of his talents.
I partly owe my love for Chemical Engineering to Bhai’s impressive big books arranged on the shelves of the living room. Though my mastery of chemistry was nowhere near his, people do say that I have inherited a sense of humour from him!
His one vice was inhaling tobacco snuff, for which he blamed a student leader in Wilson College, the esteemed Mumbai institution he attended and where he received his Bachelors and Masters degrees. I used to get particularly annoyed at the way the stuff made a mess in the old-fashioned bathroom as Bhai would try to clear his nose and would not care to wash it off the floor into the drain!
A lover of good literature as well, he collected quite a few good English novels and read them with interest. This trait too found its way into the lives of my big sister and me, and perhaps my children and grandchildren.
If Chemistry was his love, taking care of his health, exercise was certainly not. You see these are never mentioned in any Chemistry books. Love of food was an extension of Chemistry for him. He savoured good calorie-rich food at home as well as at the local Udupi joints. His favorite South Indian Udupi Café Mysore at Kings’ Circle remains my personal favourite too. Like father, like son!
Perhaps his unfettered love for food turned out to be his undoing in the end, at the age of 60.
Last night he appeared in my dream, smiled and repeated the arithmetic riddle that he had posed many years ago: “Pandar baavis shoon ne saat, ena karo ne ekdaa aath” (“Convert the figure of 152207 to 11111111”), recited as a verse, in Gujarati.
Epiphany! As I enter the 73rd year of my life, I found the answer. Multiply 152207 by 73!
Does 11111111 mean anything? For me, it revives the memory of Bhai.
Goodbye, Bhai, for the fiftieth time, on your fiftieth death anniversary.
8 thoughts on “The magic number 73”
And the great coincidence of the arithmetic riddle and the age you are entering! Marvellous.
With their qualities and with their limitations, parents laid the foundation on which we are standing today. I always have a soft corner for all parents. Yesterday, Baa Rathod (Mahendra’s mother) called and spoke to me for 15 minutes from Rajkot. On Sunday, Shanta and myself called on Ashok Doshi’s mother (called Bai) recovering from a stroke. She is 92.
I also remember my father on many occasions for his great qualities and interests. He passed away at the age of 72 but looked after himself well in spite of diabetes for a prolonged time. He died at home, with Omkar on one side and me on the other.
Thanks Arun. You have maintained your no. 1 position to respond
Wish you a very happy birthday Rajenbhai! Wish you very healthy n wealthy years ahead…..with magic numbers…..
You r very lucky having good sense of humour u got fr yr father . It’s a god gift.
Thanks Poorvi. There is not dearth of magic numbers. Almost any number can be called magic if one knows how to build a theme around it.
Mind blowing! U write so well. I njoyed each sentence of it. Last part of it was mind blowing.. how could u think of the answer n now i also wonder what could 11111111 mean to anyone?
Let your blown up mind return to where it belongs. More stories are coming up for you!
Good to know about your ‘bhai’.
It wasn’t so hard to imagine your baa’s silent yet salient role around the byproducts of the genius’s activities !
A belated happy birthday to you. And congratulations for the amazing dream. The subconscious works in mysterious ways: maybe you always knew the answer to the riddle!
Thanks Karuna. Your comments are always incisive and more thought provoking. As for your birthday greetings – I have responded to many like you that there is nothing like belated. If you read my poem I wrote on the blog page sometime back, I considered myself born every day because no concept of destiny can ever bind me. Besides, I consider your greetings as ‘advanced’ greeting for my next official birthday