A TRIBUTE TO RABINDRADOSS
Punitha Rabindradoss the beloved wife
of the departed soul Rabindradoss who is present here, is my younger sister.
Rabindradoss was of my age as he died at 63. I stand before you here in blood
and flesh. This very fact increases my pain, and I helplessly curse death. My
grief is too close and I am finding it difficult to gather myself and speak reminiscing
and recollecting things relevant to this occasion.
I see a big gathering of at least four
generations of known and unknown faces- the immediate family of Rabindradoss,
his wife Punitha, son Thambu, daughter Preethi, son-in-law Penil, grandchildren,
Rabinndadoss’ brother Samson and his wife Sheila, sister Kasthuri and her
husband Prince, the younger sister Adeline, all of Punitha’s brothers and
sisters and their spouses, many nephews and nieces, cousins of both
Rabindradoss and Punitha, their spouses and children, Aunt Getzi representing
my parental generation, childhood
friends, former colleagues and friends and members of the congregation of Good
Samaritan Church. Some of you have travelled from abroad. This large and
composite gathering readily testifies to the love and affection Doss enjoyed in
many hearts.
My relationship with Doss stretches
to 36 years. I want to begin where we left this morning in the funeral service.
We were told that Rabindradoss was one of those who were instrumental in
building the Good Samaritan Church and his life after retirement was very much
centered on the church. The presbyter was all in praise for that. But I would
say that it is not after retirement, but it was from the beginning, his life was
centered on the church. In a way, even he earned his wife through the church. I
remember my father desperately searching for a groom for my sister Punitha and
my uncle who lived in Chennai at that time brought the proposal of a boy who
was in the Banking Service. My civil servant father became a little hesitant.
But my uncle insisted, “It is not the banking job… it is the
leadership qualities of this boy that has inspired me. This young boy
along with his friends completely routed us in the church election.” The old
guards, if memory serves me right, ironically included his father also. My
father then said ‘yes’ for the proposal.
My first encounter with Rabindradoss’
family was through his mother when she came home to see the girl. After seeing the
girl and spending some time, she wanted to retire to a separate room to discuss
with other family members. My room upstairs was promptly given to them. After
some time she sent word for me and everyone felt that she was going to say
something not very helpful. When I met her, she curtly asked me, “why you call
my son ‘Ravi’… he is not Ravi.” Then she
drew my attention to a wall hanging in my room. It was a portrait of
Rabindranath Tagore with Stanza 35 beginning ‘Where the mind is without fear…’
transcribed alongside of Tagore’s face. “Whose choice was this” she asked.
“Mine” I said. “Good, I am an admirer of Rabindranath… that is why I named my
son Rabindradoss… even if you call him Ravi in Tamil, you shouldn’t lose the
significance of his name…” I came downstairs and told everyone that the
marriage was going to happen.
This might give you an idea about the
kind of parental environment in which Ravi grew up. I think it is appropriate
to recall in this occasion with reverence, the memories of Ravi’s parents whom
I came to address as Uncle Selvaraj and Aunt Kamala. If the intellectual make
up for Ravi came from the mother who was a teacher, his love for the Church and
‘Christian way of life’ came from the father. Uncle Selvaraj was a fine human
being who was very gracious and lovable.
From the beginning I and Ravi, saw
each other as friends and refused to be drawn into the fold of any formal
relationship. This helped me not only to enjoy his company but also to gain rare
insights into his personality.
The first quality I admired in him
was that he was a man who never forgot his roots. On several occasions I have
seen him moved to tears recollecting the sacrifices his father and mother made
to bring him up. It was a rare sense of gratitude in him.
Graduating from Madras Christian
College, Ravi entered the Banking Service very early and retired as a very
Senior Manager. His friend and colleague just a while ago testified to his
excellent professional ability as a banker. His intelligence, ability for hard
work and professional commitment gave him the mettle to excel. He was
impeccably honest. That gave him the fortitude. His banker friend rightly said
that he fought the powers that be for a right cause, accommodated colleagues
and showed extreme compassion to those who were in the lower rungs. He is the
kind of a person who would take the bull by horn if he chooses and risk life. I
would like to recall one incident. As a senior manager, once he made an advance
of a few crore rupees to a liquor-baron-client based on a collateral inspection
done by a jurisdictional branch where the factory was located. Subsequent
Income-tax raid not only unearthed a lot of cash in the liquor baron’s house
but also found diversion of funds to public election. The over enthusiastic
Department of Revenue Intelligence suspected Ravi of collusion and hauled him
up for an enquiry. The liquor baron wanted him to support him on the wrong side
of law and in lieu, promised him money that would be several times the quantum
of his terminal benefits. He was also offered a job. Ravi not only did refuse
but drove to the liquor baron’s office and challenged him. He called him a
‘cheat’ at his face. I was supporting him through the process of the enquiry
through a lawyer friend from Madurai. When Ravi called me and told me the
incident I was upset and asked him why did he compromise his and his family’s
safety, he remained cool and said, “A cheat should be called a cheat at his
face and he should know there are a few who are honest and courageous and would
not take things lying low.” That was the spirit of the man. I was inspired.
In spite of the fact that Ravi was of
short stature and slender build, he commanded a powerful presence. He looked serious
and unapproachable; many mistook it for arrogance. Ironically, he was very kind
hearted, compassionate and went that extra mile to help others. Ravi loved
life. His public commitments never allowed him to ignore his family. He
nurtured it so well that his children stand a testimony. He was equanimous in
extending love that helped break borders in our families. He extended the
frontiers and made the circle very cosmopolitan.
He cherished friendship. It was heart
rendering to see his childhood friends breaking down. These were boys whom I
had seen as merrymaking groom’s party when they first came to my town. Ravi, in
my opinion, indeed has left behind an undying charm and mystery.
Any death at any age and in whatever
way it visits, underlines the human limitation. All of us have seen in our own
families and outside, deaths which are so untimely and cruel. Young people have
died of incurable diseases. Unlucky ones have died of accidents. Innocent ones have been killed for gain and
for political reasons. It is of some consolation that Ravi had a near-full life,
living for him and fulfilling his familial and public responsibilities. But
still it is not an age to die. And the loss for his wife and children are very
personal and one cannot fathom their personal grief.
Death often forces us to revisit and
reflect on the fundamentals of our faith. Informing my 87 year old ailing mother
of the unfortunate event, became a challenge that fateful morning. I told her
first that Ravi was seriously ill in order to mentally prepare her in stages,
before I eventually told the truth. My mother said that she would pray and God
would be merciful and save Ravi. But it took me an hour or more to go to her
again and tell her that God did not answer the prayers this time.
God does not always answer our
prayers. The very fundamental premise of Christian faith in my opinion draws
from this issue of unanswered prayers. This is where we see the contradiction
between human desire and God’s will; between our purpose and God’s purpose; between
our helplessness and His power. We all know Gethsemane was a defeat even for
Christ in worldly terms.
Christian victory is transcendentally
seen only on the cross after Christ was crucified much against his will. Behind
every death, there will be the will of God. We cannot lament why death happens
in a particular time in a particular way. But every death leaves us a message
to make newer meanings and continue our life.
This is where we have to start afresh,
after every departure of near and dear ones. Ravi’s unexpected death has
particularly left his wife and children too very shocked. Amidst gloom, they
need that ‘one step’ to move forward. Ask for that to God. Then the whole new
purpose in each one’s life would emerge and life would continue meaningfully.
Ravi never confused ‘this worldly’
commitments with his faith. He knew the difference between his religious
discipline and religious fetish. He also knew the difference between ‘building
the church’ and ‘raising a congregation’. My understanding is that he only did
the latter. Otherwise in his nearly four decades of association with the church,
he could have been lost in the labyrinth of power tempted by the powerful
positions the Church offered.
If Ravi leaves a message for the
congregation, it is fellowship transcending material power, division, acrimony and
creed that alienates. He certainly affirmed this world and showed us how you cannot
neglect this worldly responsibilities escaping into religion.
In him, I lost a personal friend.
May his soul rest in peace.
Chinnaraj Joseph
No comments:
Post a Comment