Good boy asto!
This post is about Kaka.
Kaka was my father-in-law; I always addressed him as Kaka, and still address my MIL as Kaku.
A recent visit to Ruby Hall hospital triggered memories of Kaka. This was because he had been in Ruby Hall for about a month before his demise. He had undergone surgery - voice box removal, due to throat cancer. Throughout his tenure at the hospital, he was in various ICUs - NTU, etc. of Ruby Hall. It was an energy draining period where all 5 of us adults - Kaku, my brother-in-law & his better half, my wife and I - were always worried about him. The physical, emotional and mental toll that it took on each of us cannot be expressed in words. We did this in addition to our respective parenting responsibilities to 5-year-olds. Only those who have experienced extended hospitalization of a close one can understand. It literally saps the life out of you.
Then came the discharge. We thought he was finally on the mend. But fate had other plans. He collapsed within two days of discharge from hospital and passed away in the OPD of Ruby Hall.
Kaka was a man of few words in normal conversation (at least with me). He could wax eloquent about technical stuff. He was an Instrumentation Engineer (with honors) and was very handy around the house. Kaka was never a social person. This was because he suffered from a major mental disease, and was on medication, for most of his adult life. The long standing and debilitating condition affected all aspects of his life - how he thought, felt and behaved. Though I never really witnessed the full force of it (my in-laws were in a separate city), I can say that my better half and her sibling, as well as their mother, carry scars from those trying times, ever since he was diagnosed during her childhood.
Kaka had an endearing habit - describing progress in percentages. When asked about how he felt or how the day was, he would say it was x% good. It always made the engineer in me wonder how he came up with that percentage.
"How is the road work near your house going, Kaka?"
"It is 70% complete."
"How are you feeling now (after he was unwell)?"
"I am now 80% better, Bala."
He interacted affectionately with kids. I guess because they do not judge as much. And they loved being in his company.
His ultimate compliment to anyone was "Good boy asto!" For him it was the pinnacle of achievement. And trust me, it was not given lightly. His catchphrase was like a certificate. It was gender neutral. Everyone - male or female - young or old - would be bestowed this title if they met a certain standard. And it would be said with such gusto that it made you feel good :-) Our daughter was only five when he passed away, but she still remembers that he had said it to her till this day.
Despite a disturbed childhood, my wife remembers fondly a father who dearly loved both his children, unashamedly and equally. And he would not hesitate to show that he cared. Once a passing bicyclist knocked against his toddler daughter (later my spouse) when she was perched on his arm while walking on the road. Though he kept going, Kaka chased him and thrashed the living daylights out of him - such was his love!
When we had babysitting issues with our daughter, a point came where my wife wanted to quit her job. It seemed the only way out. Nothing doing, Kaka said. We will shift base to Pune and help to look after both our grandchildren. Main (Hum) Hoon Na! They shifted from Baroda to Pune (luckily they had bought a flat here years ago - again due to his foresight). They would drive daily on his two-wheeler to pick up our daughter from playschool, and stay at our house until either of us - usually my wife - returned home from work.
City change, situation change - nothing would faze Kaka. He was unflappable in a crisis and a decision-maker. And he stuck to his commitments sincerely. My wife gets that from him - you can always count on her to not panic in any situation.
Physically he was not in top form. Yet he would try (and manage) to solve most problems through his presence of mind and keen intellect. Even though he was slowed mentally due to his medication, he was sharper than most. And his determination never sagged. He was a fantastic judge of people - across all classes.
Kaka never liked to stay idle even after retirement. He liked to be useful by performing 'tasks' (outside the house only; never did much house-work). When our house was being painted, both of us were working and really couldn't afford to stay at home to supervise the painters. Kaka offered to supervise. He would show up everyday, and dutifully supervise them. He would even make tea for the workers! He had no hangups about mingling with anyone irrespective of their class, social stature, etc.
He was also generous - with his time or money. He would make sure that he always took us out - to a restaurant that met his standards.
Kaka was always well dressed. I never saw him in casuals. Also, he loved the color BLUE! Even if it was a simple event at home, he would be in formals. His nightwear was "proper" - a tailored night suit in blue and with full sleeves. No track pants, and definitely no T-shirts for him.
He didn't really love animals. But they were comfortable around him. In the Paatal Lok web series, there's phrase "If a man loves dogs, he is a good man. If dogs love a man, he is a good man."
The 2nd part was certainly true. Animals sense the good (or bad) in people.
Kaka was a chain smoker. That was what led to the deterioration in his health. He would smoke a cigarette in a unique style - almost like holding a chillum. It was quite different from any cigarette smoker I have seen.
There are so many memories of him. Events - at home or in formal settings. Sitting together with him occasionally, chatting. His generosity. There were folks that unfortunately took undue advantage of it. But that never stopped or changed him.
He was never funny, pretty much serious. He rose up from a background of extreme hardship and poverty, that contributed to his not having a sense of humor. Kaka had literally studied under the street lights while growing up. But he made it, on his own. Through tremendous will power, and intelligence.
There are bad memories as well. All three - Kaku, my wife and my brother-in-law, bore the brunt of it. Some of my interactions with him had been unpleasant. The disease (added to his inherent nature) made him suspicious, arrogant and rude sometimes.
But with time, you learn to appreciate the good more and let go (a little) of the bad (forgivable) aspects of a person.
There were people who Kaka rubbed the wrong way. His condition turned him into a Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde personality. So anyone who faced his other side usually kept their distance. But all of them acknowledged the good things that he had done or said.
There're so many 'what ifs'. What if the disease hadn't taken hold of him? What if he hadn't smoked so much?
But finally, regrets have no meaning. It is what it is. Such is life.
My wife (and I) believe that Kaka is up there. Watching over her, making sure his "Bandya" is all safe. She got promoted at work a month after he passed away, and had a miraculously narrow escape from a health scare in Covid times.
Kaka on a cloud. Smoking a cigarette like a chillum and hopefully enjoying a hot cup of his favorite tea. And complimenting the deserving folks in heaven : "Good boy asto!" :)
