Saturday 16 July 2022

Hemantha Kalam - 102 'Sportive'

I was perhaps five years old when I used to accompany my dear father every day early in the morning whenever he visited the Madras Social Cultural Club (now known as Andhra Social and Cultural Association). He was a tall man with longer strides. I have been a short guy with shorter strides. So, to 'catch up with him had always been a struggle'. Inevitably I could never catch up to him in any sense. But I always loved accompanying him on these visits though. The club had mango trees and when in season, mangos used to drop down and I could pick a few that helped in my mother’s kitchen.

My father used to visit the club frequently for two reasons. He used to play ball badminton and then it was his livelihood to collect racquets which needed gutting and so he used to go there almost on every day. Another reason that he used to visit was because he was an honourary member of the club, which meant that he need not pay any subscription but it came with a responsibility. If any VIP is playing and s/he does not have a partner, the honourary members had to play with the VIPs. Thus my father used to play with some of the luminaries of the Telugu tinsel world that is now being referred to as Tollywood.

To get the guts in wholesale, he used to cycle upto Parry’s and buy the guts in bulk. He had the equipment for gutting, which we still have in our house as his memory. I too had learnt to gut the racquets and if I try once again I might be able to do it right and proper.

I used to tag along my father as many times as I could because it was so much fun watching my dad play and shout during the game. Those days ‘Narayana’ racquets were the most reliable and durable. Later similar sounding ‘Ramayana’ racquets came around in the market but it was always Narayana that real players and wannabe real players wanted to use and flaunt around with.

My father was a real sports guy. He used to play cards, carroms, and table tennis apart from ball badminton and was also a good swimmer.

But, interestingly, he never taught us swimming, ever, and so his progeny became useless in the area of swimming. There were so many occasions in my life that made me rue because of this inability. He did guide me in the case of carroms though to sharpen my acumen in the game.

Though he could play some 18 varieties of card games, he never played cards with me. He never taught me playing cards either. I had to learn one or two simple card games on my own. Even when playing other games, my father always used to take the side opposite to me if and when we played together. If not, he used to help my opponents with strategy, giving me a lot of heartburn. He never explained to me why he did this to me. I used to shout at him whenever he did this to me but he simply used to smile, which he was very good at. 

Though I did play a bit of badminton/shuttlecock, and carroms, I could never play it as well as my father. And I can’t swim for anything. But my daughter plays carroms well that my father gifted her with his striker. I not only could imbibe his sports persona but failed to be sportive too!

Now it has been five years since he left us all but day after day, we can’t help but remember him and his many facets.

Hoping that he is comfy wherever he is now, playing whatever sport he is interested in and I, waiting to meet up with him again.

Until the next, 

Krutagjnatalu (Telugu), Nanri (Tamil), Dhanyavaadagalu (Kannada), Nanni (Malayalam), Dhanyavaad (Hindi), Dhanyosmi (Sanskrit), Thanks (English), Dhonyavaad (Bangla), Dhanyabad (Oriya and Nepalese), Gracias (Spanish), Grazie (Italian), Danke Schon (Deutsche), Merci (French), Obrigado (Portuguese), Shukraan (Arabic and Sudanese), Shukriya (Urdu), Sthoothiy (Sinhalese) Aw-koon (Khmer), Kawp Jai Lhai Lhai (Laotian), Kob Kun Krab (Thai), Asante (Kiswahili), Maraming Salamat sa Lahat (Pinoy-Tagalog-Filipino), Tack (Swedish), Fa'afetai (Samoan), Terima Kasih (Bahasa Indonesian) and Tenkyu (Tok Pisin of Papua New Guinea), Malo (Tongan), Vinaka Vaka Levu (Fijian)

 

Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

Chennai, India


{NOTE: This was to be published on 14th July the fifth anniversary of my dear father's demise. But as I was travelling and had difficulty in accessing stable internet network am forced to release it on the next immediate available opportunity}

9 comments:

  1. Hemanth, I really appreciate the way every year you write something interesting about your father. Enjoyed reading as always 😊

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  2. Dear Hemanth
    Your writing brought tears in my eyes ,because I am one of those unfortunate ones to lose father at the age of 14. Before I know ,,what is the world , the damage was done.
    At that time I had one eleder brother ,2 years elder & two younger brothers 10 & 1 ,younger sis 3 yrs.
    It was a long battle thereafter.
    Back to your blog , your dad seems to be an all rounder.It is an art to put nylon yarn to racket .Of course ,a dying art.Good u hv an idea about it .
    Blog is both emotional and impressive.
    Goodluck

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    Replies
    1. Yes dear Partha (VSP)!
      Losing a dear father is a pain that cannot be easily wiped off.

      My father could do many things with his large hands.

      In those days, it was not nylon yarn. It was cat guts, apparently. Even when I was gutting the racquets, it was cat guts. If I remember well, nylon wasn't in much use in India those years and Garware was hardly in existence then.

      Thank you so much for your time and kind words!

      Best wishes and warm regards
      With much regrets for the delay in responding
      Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

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  3. Dear sir,
    I am reading this blog a little late than i usually do, well, better late than never. It is always a pleasure reading about your father.
    I disagree where you say that you are not sportive.
    Well, as a colleague and a fellow traveler, I can most earnestly say that you are on of the those who carry sportsmanship really well.
    Maybe, you did not play as much sports as your dear father, but, you surely have all the qualities. By being a good sport, you have gained respect from others ( I count myself in 'others').
    Keep writing sir.

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  4. Thank you dear Richie Richa!

    Nice of you to say such kind words. But my dear father was on a different plane from that of mine. Except swimming, I played in all the games he did too but never was serious about sports and perhaps because of that I never really excelled in them.

    I think focusing on the right things was always an issue! :-) :-) :-)

    Thank you so much for your time and kind words, once again.

    Best wishes and warm regards
    Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

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  5. Replies
    1. Thank you Mr. Ashok for your time and indulgence.
      For a writer not only a reader but also the response is elixir.

      Best wishes and regards
      Hemantha Kumar Pamarthy

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