Read Part I Here
The Man Who Dressed In White
“Nana, why do you always wear white clothes?” I
asked with the energy and impatience of a 10-year-old in summer vacations.
It amused me because, after all, white is not a color often associated with the
profession of law. Dark coats with darker conscience, right?
He smiled while not breaking his stare at his files and did
not answer. One or two of his clients, or fareek, as he called them,
might have reacted with a muted laughter, but I was not going to pay any
attention to them. His ignorance probably vexed me a little, but I let that go,
for the time being.
Later that night, I asked my mother the same question and
her answer surprised me more than the milky white clothes of my grandfather
ever did.
Vakeel Saab, as Nana was called,
both with respect and affection, by almost everyone outside of his immediate
family, was born in a modest family. He was the oldest of the 4 sons and second
of 6 children. His father got night blindness, when he was still in his thirties. Nana
and his immediate younger brother, had to grow up before their time. Education
was paramount but so was the sense of responsibility towards family. Their
youth was spent juggling duties, personal ambitions and collective responsibilities.
The folklore of people studying under candles and streetlights, in distant
villages in the India of 1940s and ‘50s, to win over their circumstances with a
smile and no complaints, was true here as well.
In all this, he could neither afford nor focus on his
wardrobe choices. But it was still something to worry about, especially, because
he was in a public profession. He chose white because he could repeat the
same clothes without being noticed. The pretense and perception of
well-being was significant, even then. In those days, my mother often recalled, my
Nana probably had only 2 pairs of white clothes that he wore till he
could.
The years of scarcity made way for a lifetime of prosperity
for both the brothers. My Nana earned his Masters and Law degrees, and
worked quite literally till he was conscious, while his brother went on to have
an illustrious career in the US with a Doctorate in Chemistry and served as a professor
at University of Florida. But the impact of those formative years remained, and
both willingly followed a simple lifestyle.
The colors of the lives that followed, never overshadowed the White that had defined his roots. Men like him, truly deserve to be called, the Sons of Soil!
His white clothes were not only a reflection of his resolve
and simplicity but also told the tales of a generation’s sacrifices and
resolve in the face of adversities. It is them who built this nation. It is
their values that we all take pride in calling “Indian family values”.
They sowed what we reap, and that is a lesson I never
forget.
Epilogue
My grandfather passed away last year. Over the past year, my family and I, have talked in detail about his life and legacy. But the fundamental shortcoming of reminiscing and discussing one's legacy is that it starts from the point of them passing away. We tend to gravitate towards the world that they left behind more than the memories they created on the way! Thus, the beautiful intricacies of their life often go unnoticed.
So, to honor his life, over the course of next few weeks, I would be posting short anecdotes signifying how I would like him to be remembered.
While these stories are personal and unique, I am sure they would resonate with a larger audience. The emotions, experiences and challenges of the Greatest Indian Generation inspire us all and we grew up listening to them. It is, therefore, my sincere hope that in the life of my grandfather, my readers would find the stories of the great patriarchs and matriarchs of their homes too.
