Watching Vairamuthu's introductory verse "Ayiram thaan kavi sonnen, azhaazhaga poi sonnen, pethavale un perume, otthavari sollalaiye, kathallam magan paattu, kagithathil avan yezhuttu, urellaam magan pechu, un kirthi yezhutalaiye", from his rendition of a poem, a tribute to his mother and all mothers, made me realize that I had never spoken about my parents albeit a small introduction in one of my earlier books. Then I remember Jnana Jyothiamma remind me that Siddha Heartbeat was to only carry stories on the Siddhas and must stand apart from other blogs; definitely no family stuffs and other mundane things. I suppose I could bend the rules just this once to talk about my parents, as a show of gratitude too.
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| My late fathers home in Kilsevalpatti, Sivagangai-Karaikudi |
My father was from India. He had travelled from his homeland seeking wealth and riches as they were traditionally bankers or chettiars. He serviced businessmen in Rangoon, Burma, Singapore, and finally settled in Ipoh and later in Taiping, Malaysia. He took my mother's hand and brought up a family of seven.
When the Japanese invaded Malaya, the firing shots from the enemy airplane missed his head by inches just as he stepped out from a bank, clutching on to two bundles of money. He hit the sand and laid still, wondering if he was still alive or dead. He was spared that day. He realized then at that moment that all the riches could not save him from death, if death chose to come. He began giving away his wealth to the needy and whoever came along. His property too was given away. He gave away his brand new Morris Minor to his nephew.
On one of his many regular trips back to India, he landed at an ashram and served a guru for some time. One fine day the guru called him aside and told him he had responsibilities towards his family and sent him back home. My father came back to Malaysia and continued his charitable endeavours.
My father was a man of few words, but stood by them. He was a man of dignity, integrity, pleasant and kind.
On the day he passed away, he went and sat in a corner, took up the padmasana pose and left the body. It was a beautiful death. He had no illness. He did not suffer. I suppose it was blissful.
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| My mother with Agathiyar |
My mother too is a gem of a person. She still prays for all her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Her prayers that I should let go of my anger reached Agathiyar for Agathiyar in the Nadi gave me a long lecture on anger and its adverse effects and asked me to manage my anger.
The mothers prayers is always heard.
My brother wrote about Mum's Secret Formula for Happiness when he was with the New Strait Times some years back. Read it at http://www.nst.com.my/opinion/columnist/mum-s-secret-to-happiness-1.75017.