Shravan Kumar Agarwal - Shradhanjali

Shradhanjali to Respected Shravan Kumar Agarwal 

15-Nov-1940 to 18-Jan-2024 

It was a cozy Feb noon in 2020. I found myself enjoying a delicious and sumptuous meal in Shravan Kumar Agarwal's living room. Even in my wildest dreams, I could not have anticipated what was unfolding before my eyes. It took me a while to hear the same facts more than once before absorbing them fully. More unique than the meeting were the circumstances that led to it. A separate post on the unique alignment of many odd stars that made it possible:

https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2024/01/when-sharan-meets-sharan.html

Regardless of its miraculous nature, this could very well have been the first and the last lunch of my life in that living room. Like many people who enter and leave our lives in a flash only to be forgotten in oblivion. Of these - a few memorable encounters end at elaborate exchanges of heartfelt thank you notes, and false promises from both sides of continuing to stay in touch, only never to be fulfilled. But at age 79 this extraordinary man was on a mission - determined to unite us all, and this time for good. And he went above and beyond to make that happen. Thereafter every little interaction with him, left me an ever-lasting impression on my life, yearning to know him more!

Dating back two generations above me - the eldest of 8 siblings Keshav was born on Jan 2nd, 1912. He was followed by Atul born on Apr 27th, 1914, followed by 6 more siblings. Though 8 in all, they were rather referred to as 'the 13 siblings' accounting for all of the combined cousins in that generation. These cousins grew up in a single close-knit unit. They migrated to India during the India-Pakistan partition. During their lifetime they continued to move eastwards for jobs/studies across the Northern belt of India from Haryana to Old Delhi, to New Delhi, before finally settling in my current hometown - Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh. Their childhood was well spent eating, playing, and growing together. Owing to how close-knit everyone stayed with each other across generations, they ensured to live close to each other. What I have found hard to digest was despite how near and dear everyone was to everyone, for instance - Keshav's kids were to my immediate family across generations, I never heard about them before. Today at lunch I was filled with pride, each time my Baba's [grandpa] name was taken with respect and reverence. I was hearing stories of the many ways Atul was a father-like figure to Shravan and the rest of the family. I had lost count of how many times I had goosebumps that noon.

Born in Kanpur, Shravan Kumar Agarwal was the eldest son of Keshav. The author is one of the proud 9 grandkids of Atul. That gives me the privilege to call Shravan - my Tauji (Tauji is dad's elder brother or dad's elder male cousin).

Even at the ripe age of 79, when I met him first Shravan Tauji was a force to reckon with. He carried an upbeat energy. He had an impressive personality; and for his age, he carried himself very gracefully. He was just the perfect blend of being humbly grounded and magnetic.

As a founder and director, he continued to have a strong grip on his business Vimla Organics. He was well-known in the Delhi-NCR business circles. He enjoyed what he did. He could attend day-long FICCI and business meetings, come back home, and stay active and alert to engage in deep and meaningful conversations over dinner.

Tauji strongly believed in keeping the larger Sharan family intact. He did a lot of heavy lifting to help everyone within the family connect and worked towards achieving that goal in multiple ways. Shravan Tauji gradually added me to the larger Sharan family group. I am proud to say I had the honor to connect the rest of Atul Baba’s kids plus my cousins to the larger group too. Tauji continued to be the hub for the rest of us spokes (aka family members) until his last days.

On my following visit to India, he reserved an entire day to be with me and introduce me to the eldest and other relatives. I got a chance to meet Kishan Baba. At 93 he was the eldest living Grandpa in our family. He sat straight, participated in conversations, had great eye contact, and greeted us by standing erectly both times as we arrived and left. Meeting him, I felt hopeful of inheriting the family’s good genes too, and felt proud at the possibility of aging gracefully myself. Kishan Baba plays an important role in connecting everyone in his unique ways. He hosts a grand mango party every year, too where the extended Sharan family meets in his fairly large backyard once a year. I also met my fairly young who shares my name - Deepti Chachi :). She has conducted extensive research on Girmitias - the lost and nameless stories of indentured laborers from British India transported to work on plantations in Fiji, South Africa, Mauritius, Seychelles, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Malaysia, Singapore, the Caribbean, and other countries.

Second from left - Kishan Baba - eldest living Grandpa

Third from left - Shravan Tauji Pictured at the wall, Baba's poojya parents - Sukhdev Krishan and Bhawani.

    Front left - Deepti Chachi

Tauji kept covering more relatives late into that noon before we retired to his home for dinner. The night before I had flown in from Sweden, I was jetlagged and running behind schedule. My delays caused Tauji’s snack and lunch timings to be delayed at the designated homes. But neither was he upset with me nor did he frown upon his messed up routine. Such was the magnanimity of his personality, even at the delicate age of 80! 

I received his grace and help in many personal ways. On one particular India trip, I urgently needed a doctor's certificate. I briefly mentioned it, and within 24 hours, one was delivered to me. I could mention a dozen smaller such incidents such as these, but that would fill up way too many pages. 

One afternoon, as I was returning after getting a beautiful Mehendi design from the market, I got to spend some time with his wife and my Taiji-Vimla. We chatted for hours. She shared incidents of her childhood, the making of this residence, and other stories from the past. Once my mehndi dried, she patiently rubbed it off bit by bit. (a rather time-consuming process if done the right way) That evening was my first time to hear her 1-1, yet we chatted as if we were picking up a conversation from where we had left off from the past. Everything felt so natural and at ease.

 

On one trip, Tauji introduced me to our ancestral temple in Haryana. This temple was constructed in the small town of Mehem in Haryana where one of our ancestors - Sati Mata had taken Samadhi. Tauji and the rest of the larger Sharan family now boasting of a total of 29 Chacha’s-Tauji’s-Bua’s; their spouses; my countless cousins; and even more countless nieces and nephews - would throng it every year. Each family would bring home-cooked food which would be shared and eaten with the priest as one big family. Tauji was one to never miss these family gatherings, whether it was just one family who joined him or all of the 29!

Respected Vimla Taiji - I love her double the amount - she also reminds me of my beloved Naniji [maternal grandma].

Tauji's stories were intriguing and captivating. He considered it unnecessary to carry unwanted baggage over his head. He could share his humble beginnings when they traveled to Mehem in bullock carts (before the advent of cars) and modern-day materialistic achievements - without an air of pride, in the same breath.

There was more to our family history than met the eye. Bit by bit, I learned about our ancestral temple in Mehem, Haryana. On my visit in April 2023, I had the privilege to visit our ancestral temple for the first time.

Driver Hemant Ji was to arrive in another 4 hours to pick me up at 8 am. Since the driver came up in the conversation, let me make a quick note on that aspect too. As I learned; Hemant ji had been the family’s trusted driver for over three decades. The level of care that Tauji took for his staff, was reflected in his staff’s ever-lasting loyalty.

The long drive to the temple with a trustworthy driver gave me peace of mind to take a stress-free nap. I had landed after a 30-hour journey from the US to India past midnight. Owing to misplaced baggage, I had a rough night and barely got any rest. I wasn't sure what to anticipate at the temple. either. However, once I was inside owing to the high vibration inside the garb-griha, I felt energized and renewed. 

From the outside, it measured approximately 8 by 8 feet, with half-height doors on three sides. One of our family members had generated generously to construct marble flooring all around this central temple. This flooring doubled up as a comfortable sitting arrangement on days when the family gathered. As for the temple, one had to bend considerably to enter and exit. Perhaps it served as a reminder to leave egos outside before entering the sanctity. Inside, instead of a Sati Mata’s murti or photograph, there sat a small murti of Ganesha. Despite, the temple being overly simple, photography was not permitted.

At the temple, a woman priest was anticipating my visit. It is very uncommon for the head priest of any temple to be a woman. The priest assisted me to perform a quick pooja. Dhoop, tikka, some hand impressions of mine over the main entrance in some holy water she had pre-prepared, followed by a few formal exchanges of gifts and cash and then a lunch with her grandkid. Surprisingly we were done in about 15-20 min. I learned - that some 30-odd years ago before she took over the position of the head priest, her mother-in-law used to be the head priest. And before that, it was her mother-in-law’s, mother-in-law. That's how far she or anyone else in the family could date back. 

The tradition is that the temple is visited in the waxing phase (Shukla Paksha) and never in the waning phase (Krishna Paksha). I wonder why though. The temple too was unique in many respects. My curiosity gave rise to a million questions. I had plans to get answers to them from Tauji in this upcoming India visit. For my Tauji was one - who if he knew, would never turn me down. When approached he was willing to share our family’s rich itihaas: i-ti-haas [history] (For the record i-ti-haas literally translates to ‘as it happened’.) 

During these few years of knowing him, Tauji stayed in touch in multiple ways. He would video call my family from time to time. He would send me news articles about India's booming economy. In particular; car sale news captured his interest. He would occasionally keep me posted on big events happening in the family too. 

There was much to learn from him and his exemplary life. He just had the most upbeat personality. Nothing and no one could pull him down. Over the last couple of years of his life, Tauji's health went on a roller coaster ride. In between his hospital visits, he once sent me a frail-looking pic, mentioning “I am making progress now.” He wanted to send a reassuring message to the family, that he was fighting back and soon going to be back in action. His words read powerfully - like the famous Hindi movie dialogue ‘Tiger abhi zinda hai!’ 

Tauji's son: Arun & Daughter-in-law: Garima

Tauji lived a fulfilling and enriched life. He raised four generations under one roof. A trend missing in the US and diminishing in our city lives in Bharat, being replaced with nuclear family culture.  

Tauji was always at ease and very grounded I cherished the brief time I spent in his company. I am sure he did not have any regrets when he left us. If there are any regrets - they are on my side. I wish I had been given more time to spend with him. He shall continue to be a motivation for generations. A very befitting tribute to him would be if I could gather enough strength to walk even a little bit in the big shoes he left behind.

Tauji's daughter - Aruna with her family

Tauji was the dissectologist who helped me fit in perfectly and naturally like that wandering jigsaw puzzle piece, that now knew where exactly to ground itself. His presence will be deeply missed.

I am still a part of the larger Sharan family social media group. I pray we follow in his footsteps; that new 'Shravans' emerge from within us whole continue to guide the family to connect and build stronger bonds? That we count on each other, and share our joys and sorrows without fear or apprehensions? I get to meet more family members and know them personally. For now, thanks to Tauji, to be virtually connected over a social media group to a quarter of my roots is a joy I want to hang on tightly to. 

Shravan Kumar is survived by his wife and 2 kids; and their families which include 4 grandkids, and 1 great-grandkid. I pray for the satgati of his punya aatma. Om Shanti Shanti Shanti.

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A brief walkthrough of our lineage:

* My grandfather’s grandfather - Choudhary Bhal Singh & Parvathi - had five kids.

* Their eldest son - my grandfather’s dad - Lala Paliram Sharan & Kishan Dei had 8 sons. 

* Their eldest son - Keshav Krishna Sharan & Indra Devi had two kids.

* Their eldest son - Shravan Kumar Agarwal (the pivotal point of this memoir) & Vimala.

* Their eldest son - (and my cousin) Arun Agarwal 

Of the 8 sons of Lala Paliram, Keshav Krishna was the first. The second one was Atul Krishna. Shri Atul Krishna Sharan’s blog https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2008/11/remembering-dadaji-shri-atul-krishna.html

I end with this quote that aptly summarizes you - Shravan Tauji!

"Work for a cause, not for applause.

Live life to express, not to impress. Don't strive to make your presence noticed;

just make your absence felt."

When Sharan Meets Sharan

The story when one member of the Sharan family meets the rest of the family...

Then: My family

My dad’s eldest brother, my role model Tauji [uncle] - Dr. Vijay Kumar Sharan was visiting India in Feb 2020 as part of a Swedish delegation. Sarjana - my husband’s youngest cousin’s wedding ceremony was to take place that same month. This is precisely why my family of 5 happened to be in India during that same time frame. Interestingly, her wedding was being debated to happen sometime later in 2020, but my family found February dates more auspicious and thus more appropriate.  (And if you were wondering, yes! This was right before the dreaded Covid-19!) When Vijay shared he was visiting India, I was ecstatic at the thought of meeting my favorite uncle after nearly 20 years. Ever since my grandparents had left this earth, his visits to India had reduced. I had moved to the USA in the meantime and didn't get a chance to meet my international relatives.

Now: My family

While in India, one fine evening Vijay got a brunch invite from someone I did not know. He made a quick phone call to share that I was invited too. Over the 30-second phone call, I didn’t quite understand why or whom. But I trusted his judgment, and so I reluctantly agreed. On the hind side, the thought of getting to meet him a few days ahead of the planned time over a meal sounded exciting enough.  

My India vacations were everything but a vacation. They were hectic, tiring, and eventful - weddings, ceremonies, preps, shopping, chores, and so much more. For the longest time, we have battled between the two countries not sure which one to call our permanent home. For the most part, my kids Atharv, Avika, and Ishaan always accompanied me as either babies, toddlers, or tweens. Their unfamiliarity with the Indian ways of sleeping, eating, brushing, showering, and pooping didn’t make the overall experience any easier. To this, add the not-so-baby-proof homes. Also, add the collective jetlag leaving me or my kids unable to get any restful sleep for weeks before settling down into a new routine. And by the time a routine was established, we would pack our bags to repeat the whole cycle back home in the States! On these trips meeting anyone, specifically unknown strangers, used to be the last thing on my to-do list. My reluctance was well placed.

Rare pic of Vigyan Chacha ji 

https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2008/01/vigyan-kumar-sharan-is-no-longer-with.html

And I will forever be grateful to the Universe for that lunch. Grateful to my family for arranging Sarjana’s wedding in February, and grateful for these many stars to align in a short and surprising event that was to unfold. Other than Sarjana’s wedding and the Swedish delegation happening at the same time, there was someone else to be thanked for. Ghaziabad’s Rotary Club happened to be on the list of organizations the delegation was supposed to connect with. Mr. Arun Kumar Agarwal was on the Board of this club. On this particular occasion, he happened to come across the list of delegates naming our very own unique and uncommon last name ‘Sharan’. He got curious and so they went off to hunt down. And boy wasn't it thrilling when it turned out to be the same Vijay.
 

So the third and final important link, in the unfolding of this mysterious past and future was the Rotary Club. Together the Swedish delegation, the wedding, and the Rotary Club unfolded a story of lost love and brotherhood.  

Flashback to the mid-1800s, when my grandfather’s grandfather Choudhary Bhal Singh was born. His kids and grandkids grew up together as one close-knit family. They migrated to India during the India-Pakistan partition. During their lifetime they continued to move eastwards for jobs; and studies across the Northern belt of India from Harayana to Old Delhi, to New Delhi, before finally settling into my current hometown Ghaziabad, UP. They grew up together, eating, playing, and sleeping throughout their childhood. They moved as a unit, well up until Baba got married to my Dadi - Mrs. Shushila. And that’s where their story takes a twist.

When Atul was luckily awarded a government residence, his brothers were sad they would not be able to continue to see each other in the evenings after work. Back in the 60s/70s winning the lottery to one used to be a big deal. With a heavy heart, the elder one Keshav encouraged Atul to accept the offer as a blessing and keep progressing in life. With 6 kids, Atul too had great responsibilities on his shoulders and accepted the offer as the right decision in the interest of his growing family. And with success in life, thus came tears and parting. It was the beginning of these brothers building up their little nests.

In the meantime, Dr. Vijay Kumar Sharan (the one visiting India as part of the Swedish delegation), was then the first to graduate as an engineer from the prestigious IIT-Kanpur in 1967. It was a matter of pride for the 8 brothers (rather than 13 cousins) and their families. Vijay was invited to the UK to pursue further studies in the fall of 1967 (if I recall correctly, on full merit), from where he went to Sweden to gain a double doctorate and have several patents under his belt. The fondest recollection of (then a teenage) Arun - is biking on an August morning in 1967 at full speed on Delhi roads to buy garlands for Vijay Tauji’s farewell and be in time to honor his uncle for a grand farewell at the airport.

1967: The proud Sharan brothers bid farewell to their son/nephew Vijay @ the Delhi airport First left - Vijay's Dad - Atul Krishan Sharan

Kid in specs - Arun Kumar Agarwal

A few more decades passed, when Shravan and Atul built their homes in Ghaziabad ensuring never to stay more than 15 min away from each other. My Dad’s - (Atul’s middle son) - wedding took place in this same home. When Daddy wrapped up his private medical practice in the UK and migrated back to India for good in 1987, the three of us settled back in this same home. That migration gave me a good 7+ teenage years of schooling and vacation time in my 4 years of college and beyond to spend in Ghaziabad. But, somewhere between Dad's marriage and his return to India after 14 years, life happened and connections were lost. Occasionally Daddy would fondly remember the times as a kid when he played with his cousins back in Delhi. But beyond that, I never got a chance to meet them. My curiosity about them never led to any answers. Eventually, between college, an intense career, marriage, and an unanticipated transition to a full-time (proud yet busy) mom, I too forgot about Dad’s childhood memories.

Fast forward, owing to Vijay Tauji’s brief phone call the night before - here I was sitting in Shravan Tauji’s living room enjoying an elaborate lunch. It took me a while to relate that the people I mistook to be strangers were family - so near and dear to my Baba. Shravan Tauji could not summed up in one line and deserves an entire memoir to himself. 

https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2024/01/shravan-kumar-agarwal-15-nov-1942-to-18.html 

His eldest kid - Arun was hilarious. Arun’s mom, Vimla Taiji seemed years ahead in her time and age. She was a perfect combination of carrying old Hindu values yet imbibing newer ones, wherever the latter made more logical sense.

We had an ancestral temple that held immense significance to the family. In April 2023, Shravan Tauji arranged for me to receive darshan. It was my first visit. At the temple, a woman priest was anticipating my visit. It is very uncommon for the head priest of any temple to be a woman. She assisted me in performing a quick pooja. Dhoop, tikka, some hand impressions of mine over the main entrance in some holy water she had pre-prepared, followed by a few formal exchanges of gifts and cash and then a lunch together with her grandkids. Surprisingly we were done in about 15-20 min. I learned - that before she took over the position of the head priest some 30-odd years ago, her mother-in-law used to be the head priest. And prior to that, it was her mother-in-law’s, mother-in-law. That's how far she or anyone else in the family could date me back in time. 

Then - Atul Baba's kids

     Now: Atul Baba's Great-Grand Kids (2022)

My curiosity arose again. I left Mehem wondering what circumstances led us to worship her. Was she awarded the title of Sati Ma owing to how pious she was? Or was she sadly the victim of the Sati Pratha? If victimized was she trying to protect her sanctity from (perhaps Muslim?) invaders in those times? What were the conditions in India in general at that time? What was her name? What did she look like? How many generations ago did this happen? How were we related? Why Mehem?

Even more interesting was that there was a row of 20-30 temples all situated in the same compound. Each tiny temple was dedicated to a specific Agarwal gotr. One belonged to the Mittals, another to Bansals, and so on to Kansals, Gargs, Goels, etc. What was so special about this location for so many temples to be located so close to each other all in the same compound? After all, this was a Shamsham ghat to begin with - which was now separated by a wall in recent decades right behind these temples. Were all these temples of different Sati Matas? And if so, how did they become Sati? Also, my birth gotr is Goel. (post marriage is Bharadwaj). So shouldn't we be the ones at the Goel temple?

I had plans to get answers from Shravan Tauji in this upcoming India visit. For he would never turn me down. When approached, he was willing to share our family’s rich itihaas: i-ti-haas [history] translating to ‘as it happened’. With Sravan Tauji no longer with us, I wonder who can provide insights into our past. Only time can tell. 

For now, I consider myself fortunate enough to connect to one-fourth of my roots. As for the Dadi’s side, I will remain clueless until another magical mystery unfolds itself. A few more such magical coincidences also need to take place before I can connect to my beloved Late Nanaji and Late Naniji - Shri Chandu Lal Gupta and Smt. Kusum Lala Devi's glorious past and history too. May that day come sooner than later in my life!

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It's been an arduous task for my cousin Tushar to build our family tree by himself. But here are screenshots of overarching fragments with more inputs gathered from Atul’s grandkids. 

My grandfather’s grandfather - Choudhary Bhal Singh & Parvathi - had five kids.
Their eldest son - my grandfather’s dad - Lala Paliram Sharan & Kishan Dei had 8 sons. 

Their eldest son - Keshav Krishna Sharan & Indra Devi had two kids
Their eldest son -  my uncle - Shravan Kumar Agarwal - the pivotal point of this memoir; introduced earlier in this blog.
Their eldest son - and my cousin Arun Bhaiya (who among other things is the President of the Rotary Club, Ghaziabad) 

Of the 8 sons of Lala Paliram, Keshav Krishna was the first. The second one was Atul Krishna.  Shri Atul Krishna Sharan’s (my dad’s dad) blog post can be found here. https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2008/11/remembering-dadaji-shri-atul-krishna.html I am one of his 9 proud grandkids.

In better health - relaxing post-meal
 

Shravan Kumar Agarwal 15-Nov-1940 to 18-Jan-2024

It was a cozy Feb noon in 2020. I found myself enjoying a delicious and sumptuous meal in Shravan Kumar Agarwal's living room. Even in my wildest dreams, I could not have anticipated what was unfolding before my eyes. It took me a good three or more rounds to hear the same facts from different angles before absorbing them fully. More unique than the meeting were the circumstances that led to it. More here on the unique alignment of many odd stars to make it possible.

https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2024/01/when-sharan-meets-sharan.html

Regardless of its miraculous nature, this could very well have been the first and the last lunch of my life in that living room. Like many people who enter and leave our lives in a flash only to be forgotten in oblivion. Of these - a few memorable encounters end at elaborate exchanges of heartfelt thank you notes, and false promises from both sides of continuing to stay in touch, only never to be fulfilled. But at age 79 this extraordinary man was on a mission - determined to unite us all, and this time for good. And he went above and beyond to make that happen. Thereafter every little interaction with him, left me an ever-lasting impression on my life, yearning to know him more!

Dating back two generations above me - the eldest of 8 siblings Keshav was born on Jan 2nd, 1912. He was followed by Atul born on Apr 27th, 1914, followed by 6 more siblings. Though 8 in all, they were rather referred to as 'the 13 siblings' accounting for all of the combined cousins in that generation. These cousins grew up in a single close-knit unit. They migrated to India during the India-Pakistan partition. During their lifetime they continued to move eastwards for jobs/studies across the Northern belt of India from Haryana to Old Delhi, to New Delhi, before finally settling in my current hometown - Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh. Their childhood was well spent eating, playing, and growing together. Owing to how close-knit everyone stayed with each other across generations, they ensured to live close to each other. What I have found hard to digest was despite how near and dear everyone was to everyone, for instance - Keshav's kids were to my immediate family across generations, I never heard about them before. Today at lunch I was filled with pride, each time my Baba's [grandpa] name was taken with respect and reverence. I was hearing stories of the many ways Atul was a father-like figure to Shravan and the rest of the family. I had lost count of how many times I had goosebumps that noon.

Born in Kanpur, Shravan Kumar Agarwal was the eldest son of Keshav. The author is one of the proud 9 grandkids of Atul. That gives me the privilege to call Shravan - my Tauji (Tauji implies dad's elder brother or dad's elder male cousin).

Even at the ripe age of 79, when I met him first Shravan Tauji was a force to reckon with. He carried an upbeat energy. He had an impressive personality; and for his age, he carried himself very gracefully. He was just the perfect blend of being humbly grounded and magnetic.

As a founder and director, he continued to have a strong grip on his business Vimla Organics. He was well-known in the Delhi-NCR business circles. He enjoyed what he did. He could attend day-long FICCI and business meetings, come back home, and stay active and alert to engage in deep and meaningful conversations over dinner.

Tauji strongly believed in keeping the larger Sharan family intact. He did a lot of heavy lifting to help everyone within the family connect and worked towards achieving that goal in multiple ways. Shravan Tauji gradually added me to the larger Sharan family group. I am proud to say I had the honor to connect the rest of Atul Baba’s kids plus my cousins to the larger group too. Tauji continued to be the hub for the rest of us spokes (aka family members) until his last days.

On my following visit to India, he reserved an entire day to be with me and introduce me to the eldest and other relatives. I got a chance to meet Kishan Baba. At 93 he was the eldest living Grandpa in our family. He sat straight, participated in conversations, had great eye contact, and greeted us by standing erectly both times as we arrived and left. Meeting him, I felt hopeful of inheriting the family’s good genes too, and felt proud at the possibility of aging gracefully myself. Kishan Baba plays an important role in connecting everyone in his unique ways. He hosts a grand mango party every year, too where the extended Sharan family meets in his fairly large backyard once a year. I also met my fairly young who shares my name - Deepti Chachi :). She has conducted extensive research on Girmitias - the lost and nameless stories of indentured laborers from British India transported to work on plantations in Fiji, South Africa, Mauritius, Seychelles, Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Malaysia, Singapore, the Caribbean, and other countries.

Second from left - Kishan Baba - eldest living Grandpa

Third from left - Shravan Tauji Pictured at the wall, Baba's poojya parents - Sukhdev Krishan and Bhawani.

Closest to camera on left - Deepti Chachi.

Tauji kept covering more relatives late into that noon before we retired to his home for dinner. The night before I had flown in from Sweden, I was jetlagged and running behind schedule. My delays caused Tauji’s snack and lunch timings to be delayed at the designated homes. But neither was he upset with me nor did he frown upon his messed up routine. Such was the magnanimity of his personality, even at the delicate age of 80! 

I received his grace and help in many personal ways. On one particular India trip, I urgently needed a doctor's certificate. I briefly mentioned it, and within 24 hours, one was delivered to me. I could mention a dozen smaller such incidents such as these, but that would fill up way too many pages. 

One afternoon, as I was returning after getting a beautiful Mehendi design from the market, I got to spend some time with his wife and my Taiji-Vimla. We chatted for hours. She shared incidents of her childhood, the making of this residence, and other stories from the past. Once my mehndi dried, she patiently rubbed it off bit by bit. (a rather time-consuming process if done the right way) That evening was my first time to hear her 1-1, yet we chatted as if we were picking up a conversation from where we had left off from the past. Everything felt so natural and at ease.

 

On one trip, Tauji introduced me to our ancestral temple in Haryana. This temple was constructed in the small town of Mehem in Haryana where one of our ancestors - Sati Mata had taken Samadhi. Tauji and the rest of the larger Sharan family now boasting of a total of 29 Chacha’s-Tauji’s-Bua’s; their spouses; my countless cousins; and even more countless nieces and nephews - would throng it every year. Each family would bring home-cooked food which would be shared and eaten with the priest as one big family. Tauji was one to never miss these family gatherings, whether it was just one family who joined him or all of the 29!

Respected Vimla Taiji - I love her double the amount - as for some reason she also reminds me of my beloved Naniji [maternal grandma].

Tauji's stories were intriguing and captivating. He considered it unnecessary to carry unwanted baggage over his head. He could share his humble beginnings when they traveled to Mehem in bullock carts (before the advent of cars) and modern-day materialistic achievements - without an air of pride, in the same breath.

There was more to our family history than met the eye. Bit by bit, I learned about our ancestral temple in Mehem, Haryana. On my visit in April 2023, I had the privilege to visit our ancestral temple for the first time.

Driver Hemant Ji was to arrive in another 4 hours to pick me up at 8 am. Since the driver came up in the conversation, let me make a quick note on that aspect too. As I learned; Hemant ji had been the family’s trusted driver for over three decades. The level of care that Tauji took for his staff, was reflected in his staff’s ever-lasting loyalty.

The long drive to the temple with a trustworthy driver gave me peace of mind to take a stress-free nap. I had landed after a 30-hour journey from the US to India past midnight. Owing to misplaced baggage, I had a rough night and barely got any rest. I wasn't sure what to anticipate at the temple. either. However, once I was inside owing to the high vibration inside the garb-griha, I felt energized and renewed. 

From the outside, it measured approximately 8 by 8 feet, with half-height doors on three sides. One of our family members had generated generously to construct marble flooring all around this central temple. This flooring doubled up as a comfortable sitting arrangement on days when the family gathered. As for the temple, one had to bend considerably to enter and exit. Perhaps it served as a reminder to leave egos outside before entering the sanctity. Inside, instead of a Sati Mata’s murti or photograph, there sat a small murti of Ganesha. Despite, the temple being overly simple, photography was not permitted.

At the temple, a woman priest was anticipating my visit. It is very uncommon for the head priest of any temple to be a woman. The priest assisted me to perform a quick pooja. Dhoop, tikka, some hand impressions of mine over the main entrance in some holy water she had pre-prepared, followed by a few formal exchanges of gifts and cash and then a lunch with her grandkid. Surprisingly we were done in about 15-20 min. I learned - that some 30-odd years ago before she took over the position of the head priest, her mother-in-law used to be the head priest. And before that, it was her mother-in-law’s, mother-in-law. That's how far she or anyone else in the family could date back. 

The tradition is that the temple is visited in the waxing phase (Shukla Paksha) and never in the waning phase (Krishna Paksha). I wonder why though. The temple too was unique in many respects. My curiosity gave rise to a million questions. I had plans to get answers to them from Tauji in this upcoming India visit. For my Tauji was one - who if he knew, would never turn me down. When approached he was willing to share our family’s rich itihaas: i-ti-haas [history] (For the record i-ti-haas literally translates to ‘as it happened’.) 

During these few years of knowing him, Tauji stayed in touch in multiple ways. He would video call my family from time to time. He would send me news articles about India's booming economy. In particular; car sale news captured his interest. He would occasionally keep me posted on big events happening in the family too. 

There was much to learn from him and his exemplary life. He just had the most upbeat personality. Nothing and no one could pull him down. Over the last couple of years of his life, Tauji's health went on a roller coaster ride. In between his hospital visits, he once sent me a frail-looking pic, mentioning “I am making progress now.” He wanted to send a reassuring message to the family, that he was fighting back and soon going to be back in action. His words read powerfully - like the famous Hindi movie dialogue ‘Tiger abhi zinda hai!’ 

Tauji's son: Arun & Daughter-in-law: Garima

Tauji lived a fulfilling and enriched life. He raised four generations under one roof. A trend missing in the US and diminishing in our city lives in Bharat, being replaced with nuclear family culture.  

Tauji was always at ease and very grounded I cherished the brief time I spent in his company. I am sure he did not have any regrets when he left us. If there are any regrets - they are on my side. I wish I had been given more time to spend with him. He shall continue to be a motivation for generations. A very befitting tribute to him would be if I could gather enough strength to walk even a little bit in the big shoes he left behind.

Tauji's daughter - Aruna with her family

Tauji was the dissectologist who helped me fit in perfectly and naturally like that wandering jigsaw puzzle piece, that now knew where exactly to ground itself. His presence will be deeply missed.

I am still a part of the larger Sharan family social media group. I pray we follow in his footsteps; that new 'Shravans' emerge from within us whole continue to guide the family to connect and build stronger bonds? That we count on each other, and share our joys and sorrows without fear or apprehensions? I get to meet more family members and know them personally. For now, thanks to Tauji, to be virtually connected over a social media group to a quarter of my roots is a joy I want to hang on tightly to. 

Shravan Kumar is survived by his wife and 2 kids; and their families which include 4 grandkids, and 1 great-grandkid. I pray for the satgati of his punya aatma. Om Shanti Shanti Shanti.

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A brief walkthrough of our lineage:

* My grandfather’s grandfather - Choudhary Bhal Singh & Parvathi - had five kids.

* Their eldest son - my grandfather’s dad - Lala Paliram Sharan & Kishan Dei had 8 sons. 

* Their eldest son - Keshav Krishna Sharan & Indra Devi had two kids.

* Their eldest son - Shravan Kumar Agarwal (the pivotal point of this memoir) & Vimala.

* Their eldest son - (and my cousin) Arun Agarwal 

Of the 8 sons of Lala Paliram, Keshav Krishna was the first. The second one was Atul Krishna. Shri Atul Krishna Sharan’s blog https://ninaaadsaptak.blogspot.com/2008/11/remembering-dadaji-shri-atul-krishna.html

I end with this quote that aptly summarizes you - Shravan Tauji!

"Work for a cause, not for applause.

Live life to express, not to impress. Don't strive to make your presence noticed;

just make your absence felt."