Avdhut Kaka

"Avdhut kaka"... It feels extremely odd saying those words in my mind as I type them. It seems like ages since I last used them and it hurts to accept that they will never be of use again except in the recollection of memories.

I never realised how much he meant to me till he was no more. Even as I write this, there is an ache in my heart, a catch in my throat and tears are welling up in my eyes threatening to pour out. I wonder when he began to mean so much.

I guess some people are special. They make a place in your heart. They touch you somewhere deep. Such was this man, my Dad’s friend who we called Avdhoot kaka (Is it mandatory to use the past tense?? Every time I do it hurts. Now on, now that you’ve got the point, I’ll stick to the present tense; because a person of that kind lives forever, in the hearts and minds of people.)

He is gaiety personified. In all my 30+ years I don’t remember ever seeing him thoughtful, even for a fraction of a second, leave alone grumpy, sad, morose, worried or scared. The big smile, the throaty laughter, the repartee is constant.

To him life is one big party, to be enjoyed and lived to the full, come hail or snow, or rather by Goan conditions, come rain or shine. He lives life King size! And how!!

Quite a few birthdays were made extra special by him: a treat by the poolside for all my friends and family. Dining with him is never ordinary. The Chef is summoned with his magic wand. We always have what we want much to the embarrassment of and reprimanding by Daddy. He is the only one who can brush off my Dad’s stern objections. It is always, ‘Leave it, they’re kids’. (Even after I crossed 20 and 30!!)

I have only one complaint against him: he didn’t say bye before going. And that is the only thing that’s still hurting. More than a complaint against him, I guess it’s a complaint against myself… for never taking that little effort to go and see him. It’s only when he was gone that I realised I’d last met him six whole months earlier.

An important but painful lesson to learn…make time for people, for all your near and dear ones. Work goes on, if not through you some other. Tomorrow never comes, meet them now. The frustration one feels at the inability to turn the clock back and snatch just a few moments with the person gone is excruciatingly painful.

I remember that last evening vividly. He joined us for dinner after we had all eaten! (Sigh... what do we do with this man, late as usual.) As always, he came in like a breath of fresh air. His freshness and spirit was always contagious. Ever cheerful, he spread cheer around him like butter on a hot toast. And that’s how I think I should be in remembering him, if I truly love him...

(He’d be mighty amused reading this blog! Well, I simply chose to assume he is reading it!)