Renaissance Man

Nana was the renaissance man. He was cool enough for me even when I was fifteen. I think that is the time when I actually started realising how intriguing the man was.
I'll check with amma and update his date of birth. Nana was a very fair complected, fine looking gentleman, with silvery gray hair by the time I knew him. He was tall, and well built. His face was austre, always neatly shaven and he never grew a mustache. Amma's nose looked somuch like his, and my nose looks somuch like amma's. So I inherited the nose from him.
Nana loved music dearly, among the other things in life. Our visit to his house, was always marked with his performance on veena. He played the instrument with absolute comfort. Nana had beautiful long fingers with long nail buds, an artistic hand as Cheiro would classify in his pamistry books. The pink finger tips of his left hand became brownish black from all the playing on Veena. He was immemnsely excited about music. The mornings I spent at his place were pleasant with a promintent Carnatic singer performing on his tape recorder. when I hear M S Subbulakshmi sing "Bhavayami Raghuramam, I remember some very precious memories of my childhood spent in Nana's house.
Nana spent a lot of his money on music and Homeopathy, his other passion. His clinic was filled with "Metria Medica" volumes neatly arranged like in an Attorney's office. I once remember him telling me that he spent over one lac INR on his homeopathy books. That was a prohibitive fugure for me, and I should admit, I honestly did'nt know the number of zeros in a Lac at that time, I was that young or that bad with numbers. The figure, however convinced that this man was ellocos about his hobbies.
Nana loved and just loved animals and humor. He would narrate jokes and chuckle uncontrolably. He loved watching wild life on TV and would always used to tell all his grand children to tell him when they spot any animals on TV. He smoked a pipe for some time, but smoked cigars all the time. He once told me that he started smoking cigars when he was twelve. He had some disease and smoking cigars was the cure. (funny, right??) I used to listen to his stories with dialited eyes and utter disbelief.
Nana did a lot of cool things. He worked for a government organisation, practised Homeopathy during weeknights and weekends and learnt music with a vengance. His close friends were his veena and mridangam teachers who were his age group. He loved finger food and snacks that nani made during the afternoons. He had the sweetest tooth I had known. Nana had his flip sides too. He had an obsession for cleanliness that often made his grandchildren hate him. "No food in the bed room" he would insist. I remeber once he traced a carbon paper folded and preserved the wrong side in my english text. He would take the paper out, fold it the right side and reprimand me strongly for doing such a foolish thing. (Well I am givng out many secrets about my IQ, Lol) I definitely though he never tried to sugar coat his opinions. I appreciate that quality of his now, but back then, I though he was a wee bit grumpy.
Grumpy or handsome, artistic or funny , Nana was defintely a strong influence on me. He spoke prestine english, but the way he said "garals" for "girls" and warald for "world" always made me smile. I used to correct him sometimes. He would just smile and pat my head lovingly but he never grew out of saying "garals" and "warald"
These two pronouciations become infamous in the anals of our family history and we still lovingly remember how he pronounced them.
Nana's last years were a stark contrast to his life. After He retired form his services, He and Nani used to live in the same town. He practised homeopathy, his serious hobby for quiet sometime.
One blazing May afternoon, Nana came to my place with Nani. His shirt was'nt tucked for the first time ever. His black shoes that shone all the time were matte. He looked haggard as he stood in the entrance. That was the last healthy image I had of him, standing tall and stout, and confident.
No one discussed it but I realised that Nana lost his money in some investments and more than his money, he lost his vigor for life and sadly enough, his health. Nana stayed with us the rest of his life, for about six years. He was paralysed for a brief period and he recovered, but never completely. His meaty shouldres slowly became emaciated, his frame became sleek and his straight forward ways of expression became meek. He would sit in solitude for most of his time listening to some artist performing on AIR or reading his Metiria Medicas. It was such pity that his Homeopathy that cured all the ailments we ever had in the household, failed to cure his ailment. Probably because it was more mental than physical. Nana was emotionall, physically and fincancially dependant on his daughters and that toned down all his pride and love for life.
Nana was still the same old man at heart, he would still enjoy humor and wildlife and he read his newspaper every morning stilling in the easy chair on our side yard.
He smoked cigars and played cards in his leisure with santu and geeta. He was still meticulous about his things and never let anyone of us hadle his precious belongings.
I should dedicate numerous blogs to talk about this renaissance man. The man who loved and gave without counting. I have a lots more to say about him but for now, I should say I am one of the luckiest garals in the warald to
have had a grand dad like him.