Vigyan Kumar Sharan is no longer with us

Vigyan Kumar Sharan (August 11th 1951 to January 21st 2008)

Today he is not with us and we are sad.

Vigyan Sharan, the 4th brother from the eldest among 5 brothers and 1 sister was born in Old Delhi to Atul Krishna Sharan and Sushila Sharan. As his brothers grew up and left abroad for higher studies and better job opportunities, Chachaji choose to stay close to his parents, to take care of them for the rest of his life. Chachaji in his twenties got married to Sandhya Goel who in the coming years gave birth to Ankur Sharan and Ankit Sharan.

Memoirs and Memories:

To say that Chacha ji was the most beloved member of entire family will not be an over statement. There was no one, I know of, who did not love or praise Chachaji. To add to that, his sense of humor was one of best in our entire family. The first fond memories of Chachaji date back to 18th April 1987. He and my cousins Ankur & Ankit had come to pick dad, mom and me at the airport. At this point of time, I fail to recollect any part of the entire discussion as he drive us back home in his white Ambassador. All I recollect is having met one of the most jovial people; and that how happy he made all of us feel that day.

In the next few months, we settled with Chachaji and grandparents in Kavi Nagar at Ghaziabad, and started staying together. One morning, I was in Chachiji's room cribbing about how badly the mosquitoes bit me all night. Pat came Chachaji's reply - "arey vo tumhara khoon peetey hain, tum unka khoon peelo." Phir apni hatheli pe ek mara hua machar dikhate huey kahate hain, "ye dekho, is macchar ne do din pahale mera khoon piya tha, to mainey issey ussi samay maar diya". Ye sunte hi, Chachiji maza lete huey kahati hain "chi, kitne gande hain aap. Do din se haath bhi nahin dhoye". Phat se Chachu bolte hain, "Areyy is macchar ko preserve karna tha na... abhi to main do din aur apna haath aaisey hi bina dhoye rahunga"... hum log unki baat sunte hi hasney lage. Us hasi mein mera machhar kate ka dard bhi khud se gayab ho jata hai. Abhi apney puraney din yaad karti hoon to yaad aata hai, Chachiji ne mujhe theek se us macchar ko dekhney nahin diya tha. Shayad unhoney jalsi se apni kale pen se ek gola banaya ho, dard se mera dhyan bhat-ka-ney ke liye.
Translated in English
Chachiji: "oho .. they drink [suck] your blood, you drink theirs.". Then as he showed a dead black mosquito on the corner of his palm hand, he we went on to say... "See this one? This one was sucking my blood two days back, so I crushed it between my hands then and there. On listening to our conversation Chachiji who was standing near teasingly asked - "Dirty you! you haven't even washed your hands since two days"; to which Chachu promptly replies - "...oh I had to preserve this mosquito ... and I don't plan to wash my hands for the next two days either ...". We all start laughing. In that laughter, my mosquito bite pain disappears automatically on its own. As I try to recollect, I remember that Chachu didn't allow to see the mosquito clearly enough. Perhaps he had quickly made a black dot with his pen, to divert me from that pain.
One evening we were all sitting in the drawing room and Ankit; who must have been 4 years then; was being naughty. Chachu was running after him and Ankit went hiding under the dining table. The next moment I hear, three big and loud bangs - and I most obviously conclude - these must be three loud smacks on poor Ankit's tiny little butt. At an stupid little age of eight it was pretty normal for me to be smacked or slapped each time I repeated one of my old mischiefs. And I thought, so how on earth could my cousin Ankit, who was even younger to me spare beating? Oh and I might add, I had never seen Chachu even scold anyone, so I was a little scared trying to imagine my cousin's embarrassment. With these thoughts in mind, I slowly opened my eyes only to find him giggling and cuddling in Chachaji's arm!!! Chachu had only pretended to hit, and had made all that loud notice by clapping his hands against each other to scare him from being naughty. That's when I learn this neat trick to scare kids myself from tearing books or playing with dangerous equipments at our home ... and believe me it has never failed till date.

In summers, sometimes we all would go for an evening walk after dinner. In those days, it was rather below my standard to approach people to make them listen to my magnificent self-made poetic compositions. So absolved was I in self admiration, that I used to compose them and later recite them to my own self. But who after all doesn't like to be appreciated, and so while I was desperately in search of someone to pay attention, during one of these walks Chachu catches me singing. The very first words of appreciation that I ever received for my childhood poems, or rather to say; the first person in my life to notice that 'hidden childhood talent' within me was none other than Chachaji himself.

After a couple of years, Chachaji moved to Allahabad. My grandparents moved with him. Daddy went on to construct a new house in Nehru Nagar in the same city. Now and then Chachaji would come and visit us, especially while going to and fro Delhi. On those trips, he always carried with him, a small magical briefcase. I called it magical since believe me, it used to contain everything that as a kid, I could have possibly dreamed to possess. As for my mumma she was so very proud of their respectful devar (brother-in-law). After Chachu left, I would hear her say in admiration, "just look at how systematic your Chachaji is, or see how well well managed is everything that Chachaji undertakes".

It was during one of these trips in 1997. I had been preparing for the Engineering entrance exams for an year at home. One day Chachu comes, and shares with my parents a small newspaper clipping. It was an advertisement for admission to the Institute of Engineering & Technology at Rohilkhand University. Over several years of shattering mumma's dreams of becoming an IPS, IFS officer, to getting selected in IIT; she had gradually stared coming to terms with my true form. Imagining her only child joining a merely two year college did not seem an attractive option; but upon re-evaluation of her child's dismal past performances, she agreed on allowing me to appear for the University's entrance exams. Later on it turned out that the only college Chachu had expressed his desire that I appear for, turned to be the one where I graduated from. Post admission, for my Chachu - I had taken the biggest step towards creating history - by becoming the first 'Lady' Engineer of our Sharan family. I initially counted how many times he said that he was proud of me, but then I have finally lost count now...

So as I mentioned IET was not an old college and obviously did not have an established girls hostel either at that time. My parents were pretty anxious about my accommodation at Bareilly. On the day of admission Chachaji was instructed to make sure that he doesn't submit the admission fees until he made sure that I had a safe and secure place to stay. Back in 1997, IET RU had a temporary girls hostel 2.5 kms away from the college, which was actually not easy to locate. In a country like India, where maps.google.com don't help, and directions on boards are installed only to mislead you, it was quite a pain to search for my hostel. So it was local help which came to our rescue, and that local help was a labor's boy playing in the that neighborhood. Born to a doctor, I learnt about diseases and precautions much before I learnt my ka, kha, ga (or my a, b, c's). My daddy would tell, what his medical books had taught him - how to keep yourself away from sources of infection. Staying away from untidy labor kids was one of those ways. As a practicing doctor, if ever my daddy would have to shake hands with someone of that demeanor, he would first sanitize his hands with an disinfectant before touching any thing else in his surgery. Oh well! coming back to my hostel's search; so after ensuring that the hostel and safe and secure; before leaving; Chachu did something I could least imagine him to do. To my utter surprise and horror, Chachu actually bent down to where that dirty kid wrapped in torn clothes was still playing in dirt and soil, shook hands with him, patted him on his back and even went on to thank him for providing directions . That day Chachu taught me the basic fundamentals of human existence - all of us are equal - something perhaps what all those medical books combined together have over the years failed to teach millions of medical doctors.

For the next four years of my graduation - from counseling, to admission, to paying regular visits to me at Bareilly, to help me pack up and send me back to my parents at the end of those four years; I just can't forget of what Chachu meant to me all those days. He was my source of my inspiration, strength and worldly knowledge - all bundled up in the form of my dear Chachu. His endless stories from his world of experience while escorting me in my trips were all too mesmerizing for me. Numerous times have I tried to question myself - what and where would I have been, had Chachu not taught me, what he had.

Four years of college end at Bareily. It was time for an admission to post-grad. I went to stay at Chachu's place seeking an admission to the Management College in Allahabad. On one those nights Chachu took me, Chachiji and my two cousins for a tasty masala dosa treat at a famous, under-the-sky eatery in Allahabad. Chachu had refrained himself from eating that day, however he helped himself with an ice cream. After dinner Chachiji left to pull her car closer to where all of us were seated and Ankur-Ankit followed her. Left at the table were me and Chachu. I too got up and started looking around. A couple of minutes later, the waiter comes carrying the bill in his hand. Here goes one of Chachu's usual pranks.

Chachu: "Ye bill to mera nahin hai"
Waiter: "Arey sa'b kya baat kar rahe hain, aap sab ne abhi issi table pe to baith ke khaya hai!"
C: "Arey bhai, main to keval yunhi baitha tha. Main to un charone mein se kisi ko janta bhi nahin hoon. Lagata hai vo log tumko paisey diye bina hi chale gaye. Mainey to bhai ek icecream zaroor khayi thee. Mujhe to tum keval uske hi paisey batao?"
W: (thora dukhi hokar): "Sa'b..."
C: (Poorey pasiey aage baDhate huey) Ye lo bhai, ginlo.
Waiter ginta hai. Khoob hasta hai, aur chala jata hai. Later when Chachu narrates this to Chachiji and Ankur-Ankit and we again burst into riots of laughter.

English Translation:
C: "This doesn't look like my bill"
W: "Sir that doesn't sound right. Just a short while ago, weren't all of you were sitting and eating at this same table?"
C: "I was sitting here just like that. I don't even know those four folks. Looks like they all left without paying your dues. Oh and yes, I just ate an ice cream; so could you please tell me how much much should I pay for that?"
W: (His voice going deeper)"Sirrr..."
C: (Handing over the entire money) Hey my brother, count this.
W: (Counts the money, laughs heartily and leaves)

A couple of years pass by. I did not take admission at Allahabad. I join Infosys and am now around 23-24 years old. At this age, my own dear Chachu starts conspiring against me with my parents to plan my wedding and ultimately my exit out of my own home. He is searching a good match for me. Chachu sometimes reaches out to his personal network, sometimes may have even scanned newspapers, consults Buaji and after all his research; prepares his own short listed version of prospective bridegrooms for me. Yeah all this work work was in addition to being a great son, husband and a fabulous papa to his own to two kids!

As a side note: During that same time, Abhinav and I meet at Infosys Bangalore. Abhinav's family accept me as their first Non-Brahamin daughter-in-law member. Sharan family stands by and accepts Abhinav too. The two families together blessed our marriage on Nov 28th 2004.

I was a grown up now. These days, I had started thinking that perhaps that magical briefcase no longer was a magical one after all. With a couple of months left for my and Abhinav's marriage, Chachu and Chachiji were at my parents place almost all the time now. From driving mumma daddy to different banquet halls, to deciding menu, publishing cards, to deciding my jewelery, to searching for the best fabric in town for their beloved brodegroom's suit .... and a never ending list of to do items in preparation of our wedding. Chachu and Chachiji just went on and on and on. So engrossed were they in the entire preparations, that at one point of time, not only my sari shop uncle, but even a recent new neighbor of ours has started confusing my Chachi with my mumma!!! While our families were busy with the preparations and arrangements, Abhinav and me were busy meeting project deadlines back at Bangalore. It's only now that I have realized, everyone in this industry is replaceable - and that includes you and me - who have been coined as the most critical resources by our managers. Anyways, back to marriage preparations; when we arrives home, I could feel that excitement everywhere. Our engagement day arrives and suddenly mummy runs out of her room; and addressing my daddy says - "Arey sunte ho, I was suppose to go to the bank today to get crisp new [Rupee] notes for the ceremony. All I have at home are old and used ones. How can we give them to her sasural waley [my would-be-family]??"... Before daddy even got a chance to console mummy with one of his standard, one-answer-fits-all-questions - 'theek hai, ab jo ho gaya so hoga', out of that same briefcase today came out; a bundle of crisp, out of the mint hundred rupee notes. Chachu went on to say "Arey Bhabhiji, main jab ghar [Bareilly] se nikal raha tha, to mainey socha ki shayad in noto-ne ki zarorat paDhey, to isliye main apney saath le aaya... ye leejiye."

I might have grown, but the magic was that briefcase had not faded!

Translated: Chachaji addresses mummy: "Bhabhiji, when I leaving home, I thought these bills may be required at some point of time, so I brought them along with me."

In this world full of people hungry for praise, it was just so very weird; not to hear Chachu say a word in self admiration; on this or any many more occasions before and after; when his foresightedness and maturity helped everyone whose lives he touched.

During those numerous ceremonies before and during the marriage, it was not a surprise to hear whispers from friends and on-lookers - 'Vigyan apney bhaisa'b ko kitna kyar karte hain. Lagta hai bilkul apney baDhey bhai ki akhein hain.' or 'Vigyan ne bas Deepti ko janam nahin diya hai, Shadi mein lekin pita ki zimmedariyan baDhi hi dakshata se nibhayi hai'

Translated: 'Vigyan loves his elder brother so much. It feels that he is surely Vinay's eyes and support.' or 'Vigyan wasn't Deepti's real father, but otherwise he had executed all responsibilities as that of a father with such dexterity.

When mouth cancer first struck Chacha ji, and he did not disclose it to anyone, these words were said about him "...so busy was he solving the problems of others, that when he needed help, he had no clue how to approach anyone himself. He kept his own griefs hiding then tight within himself; completely failing to realize that this time 'he' was the one was needed some support ... "

I was one of the unfortunate members of the family who wasn't with him, during his last days. When I begged to grant me and Abhinav leaves, to go and see him, Abhinav'as manager made excuses about Dovetail 3.4 releases (the then project's name); and postponed our trip, by a month. Chachu perhaps had already waited too long enough, to wait for me to come to India and allow me to see him. He now no longer had the strength to be able to take it any more.

In his last days, this is as it has been described to me. Chachaji could not eat with his mouth. He used to consume food through tubes. He could not speak. He used to communicate using pen and paper.

My colleague Tracy; fortunately a cancer survivor; suggested that the best I could do to make him feel better and tell him that I cared, was to write him a hand-written letter.

For a person who was in pain and distress; who might have been tired of taking care of anything and everything himself; who needed a break from his ever increasing responsibilities over his wearing shoulders. My Chachaji who was much more than just Chachaji has left us for ever today. Today he is not with us. I am wondering should we really be sad.

Bhagwan unki aatma to shanti dein. May his soul rest in peace. Please pray to God so that my family gains strength to bear this loss.

His is survived by his wife Sandhya Chachi and his sons Ankur Ankit and their wifes.


Left to Right - Sandhya Sharan (Chachiji), Savita Sharan (mummy), Deepti Sharan Shukla, Abhinav Shukla, Vinay Kumar Sharan (daddy), Vigyan Sharan (Chachu), Sushila Sharan (Dadiji)







Left to Right - Adarsh Kumar (Phuphaji), Vinay Kumar Sharan (Daddy) and Vigyan Kumar Sharan (Chachaji)







Left to Right - Vigyan's two sons Ankur & Ankit








Left to Right - Abhinav Shukla & his yonger brother Anand Shukla serving dinner to Vinay Sharan and his younger brother Vigyan Sharan; both at the same time










Glossary:
'Chachi ji' or ‘Chachu’ - dad’s younger brother
'Bua ji' - dad's elder or younger sister
'Devar' - husband's younger brother (brother-in-law younger to husband)