For the one, for whom we are…

Kaushall
7 min readApr 16, 2024

Not all great people get biographies, however their stories deserve to be told. For generations and generations to come, because if our future don’t know and appreciate about our past, then who will.

My earliest memories are bleak now and which is why I wish I had written this earlier, when memories were fresh and there were no shackles of every day life’s debts on your head (pun intended) which clouded your mind and heart of the memories of old.

Reverence is one of the earliest traits I remember. The sheer reverence towards his mother and brother are something that I have never seen anywhere else. It’s a classic example of pure unadulterated love and the need to give and put oneself before them is something which is easy to say, but tougher to emulate. Everything & everyone before them, maybe I don’t know the details, but if I wanted to see how Lakshman doted on Ram, I did not have to go too far, I could see a live stream. I once even forgot to account for some money given by the brother that created a minor argument, which resulted in me getting a hiding, well deserved., I may add.

The world revolved around the brother, each for each one, every little war was fought with him in mind, every peace offering made was for him and every step was taken in tandem, Every brick of the house was built together, and every steel rod was forged with the hard work and sacrifice of both, if one was fire, one was ice and when one passed away, started the end of the other

Aggression is another trait and this one is clearer then the others, cause however old the lion gets, he remains a lion and this roar I have heard several times and sometimes I still can hear it. He always used to say, a persons nature can be known by the way he drives & boy did he drive fast. I read about Buffet much later, that when you get a juicy pitch, you should swing hard, but I saw this first hand, the art of grabbing business opportunities, recognising the value and also aggressively pushing the deal and the sheer pluck of putting it all out there and taking the chance or risk which can make it a game changer event.

Strangely and ironically it was one such pitch that swung right by or got caught by chance that made the indefatigable tired of the long road ahead.

Acumen — Long before private investing became known and angel funding became a fad, he invested in an unknown company, which was getting into software and eventually went into the business of exchanges and commodities. Our cashing out early was only superseded by the infamous fall of the company. But in those days to take those kind of bets and become an angel investor without any ulterior motives was a trait which I fondly reminisce about.

Never back down — Maybe it’s the Masjid Bunder in the blood or the Leo in the sun sign, but have never seen him back down from a fight, especially if in the right, most people feared him, and not for his physical presence but for his ability to call a spade a spade. I remember once our car got towed and he went to the traffic policeman to find out why and the next thing I see was he going shotgun with the cop on his Enfield showing the cop all the other illegal and wrong parking’s being done in the entire lane, there were so many others. In the rains, when we would get trapped or had to take the car in flooded waters, he would always come with imaginative roads and shortcuts to reach home, funny to say the only time I saw him defeated was the horrific rains of 26/11 and we had to walk home and when he actually backed down and gave up.

Confidence — A trait which is the mother of all traits, because with confidence you can pull off anything and he never lacked confidence, whether it is going right in the front of a party and going and meeting each and every one and stopping and going to the heart of the event or going and introducing himself to an unknown or meeting a minister or meeting the chairman of the bank or going to a wedding. Me, I was at the other extreme, I skirted the borders, hoped would not meet anyone, and would slink away into oblivion. Not sure about strong fathers making weaker sons, but for sure confident fathers make less confident sons. With confidence comes conviction and sometimes false as that may be and this false conviction lying on the backdrop of a trust we never should have had, resulted in years of creation go in vain and shook the very pillars of the foundation the brothers built.

Vulnerable — Never thought a man could cry, from him I learnt, strong ones do as well. While the heaviest burdens at work and the toughest times we had, never would I hear him complain about it at home or even bring it home, yes the atmosphere could get a bit tense, but we never felt it. However over the later years, when giving eulogies or hearing older songs or even watching Baghban, his favourite movie, I often saw him cry and I always wondered the man of steel, how did it melt so easily. Today I understand it and relate to it, when in the troubled moments, stoicism does not change at home, but the manifestation of the vulnerability in other ways and moments

All rounder — I must admit, he was my first coach, he taught me my first batting stance, he taught me to play table tennis, long before it was common, we had a real full size table tennis table in our house and my memories of first losing to him and then beating him are priceless. When we damaged the table, we played whole nights on our dining table with two glasses and a stick being our net. I learnt roller skates when I was 7 and pretty much was really good at it . Considering he lifted weights when he was in college and became Mr. Podar, I think I definitely inherited the sporting genes from him and when I started playing basketball, I don’t think there was a sole happier then him. I clearly remember once there was an unofficial matrimonial meeting, at home , but I had to go to play and he said no worries go and plat and come and I came back in tracks all sweaty and dirty and he was ok with it. From holding the racquet to playing tennis to bowling out swingers or top spin, I did not really think there was any sport he did not know about and all I am and became I owe to him.

Fun traveller — Weekend picnics and vacation drives to places much outside Mumbai were all we were about, whether it was standing on his shoulders in the Powai Lake annual overflow waterfall or driving each summer to Kutch, albeit smaller ages, smaller cars, no Google maps, and a genuine love for travel and the unknown were his very nature. Those travels and travails emboldened me to live anywhere and travel without fear. When I went to America, with no contact, no person who I knew, no information where I would stay and how I would get there and just a no and an address, not once did he question or overprotect me on the plan.

Modernistic — There are people who are ahead of their time and there are people who pretend to be woke liberals. Clearly he was far ahead of this time, from reassuring my better half to think this is her home, dress in whatever she wants be it shorts or skirts, to allowing me play basketball, to switch careers midway and not worry about what others would think. To naming my child, to going to her doctor’s appointments, to going for the school appointments, something which we do now, he did then.

From waking with a jump, when you entered my room and merely mentioned my name

From seeing your fiery nature in pushing an intruder down the steps

From seeing you taunting in jest when you have a good card in hand or not

From seeing you catch an owl with your bare hands

From you encouraging us to break mangoes from the neighbourhood trees

From you holding my hand as I got down on the parapet to cement the cracks

From you waking me up in the morning to empty the flooded terrace because of the cricket ball

From permitting to get a pet German Shepard way back in 1991

From our panja fights, which I lost earlier and won later

From our conversations while travelling to and fro to work

From our deepest secrets which you and I know only and will go with me to my grave

From watching you pray each day with a faith unparalleled

From those evening chart sessions and Sunday morning chart readings

From your faith in all thing astrology

From watching you have moong ka paani, dahi ka paani and all the things one will never have, each and every single day

From watching you remove 4 years only on Pranayam and Kapalbharti

From watching you take one bet after another, fighting one battle to another, till the last one

From seeing your shadow in my room long after you had passed

From stroking your picture each day for the next 5 years religiously

Each day I think and wait, when you will come

What will you say, of the things undone

But I know that you have gone and passed

These battles are mine and I am blessed

Of all the memories we hold

Some of these stories need to be told

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