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.
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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.
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.
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 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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