Kalpagam paati centenary e-book

Kalpagam, our beloved amma/paati/ kollu paati, would have been 100 this year. Her passing last year at the age of 99 left us all with a void in our lives. She was the glue that bound the Ramachandran family together. A feisty lady, she was like a baguette- crusty and rough on the outside, but soft on the inside. She faced several adversities in her life, but overcame them all through sheer strength of will. A brief biography of Kalpagam (with contributions by Rajam Santhanam, R. Srinivasan, R. Krishnan and Akila Krishnan) Paati was born on August 20, 1920 in Thiruvanmiyur, a small village near Chennai (then called Madras), which houses the ancient Marundeeshwara Shiva Temple. It later became a part of the city. Her father, Ramanathan Sharma was an educated Iyer, a polyglot who was fluent in English, and who had, apparently, been offered a chance to be educated in England. However, he was unable to take that opportunity up as samudrolangan (crossing the seas) was forbidden for the Brahmins of the time, and his family dissuaded him, lest he be excommunicated. Instead, he began to work as a diwan or accountant for the British government. Ramanathan thatha married Rajam1 and practically brought up his much younger brother-in-law, Radhakrishnan, as he was earning well in his job with the British government and could afford to do so. Ramanathan and Rajam had two daughters. Kuppu Janaki Ammal, known fondly as Kuppamma, who was two years older, and Kalpagam (our amma/paati). The sisters loved each other dearly. Unfortunately, the sisters lost their mother to tuberculosis when they were very young, no more than 10 and 8 years old respectively. [Paati with Kupamma at Birla Flats in October 1980] Paati recalled that her mother had been ailing for some time before she passed away. [Paati's eldest son Srinivasan recalls, \"When amma lost her mother aged 8, Ramnathan's younger brother's wife, Baagi chitthi, took care of both amma and Kuppu as she had no children of her own. Baagi chitthi was a mottai (shaved head) paati wearing unbleached plain saree as was the cruel custom of those days for widows, yet the villagers spoke ill about her conduct as she stayed in Ramnathan thatha's home to look after his two motherless daughters. So she moved out to live with Krishnaswami chitthappa and Saraswathi chitthi, who were the cousin brother and sister in law respectively of Ramanathan thatha. Ramanathan thatha eventually decided to quit his job with the government and look after his daughters. 1 She would go on to name her younger daughter after her mother, but who is known to us all as 'Baby' (akka/atthai/chitthi) 2

On her death bed, Rajam requested her brother Radhakrishnan to help her husband take care of her two young daughters. A poignant episode I heard tell was of the way the two sisters discovered their mother had passed away. The doctor who came see her said she was breathing hard and was unlikely to survive. Both Kuppu and Amma ran to the Marundeeswarar temple of Thiruvanmiyur to beg for God's mercy. As they were circumambulating (pradakshninai) someone rushed there from their neighbourhood to say that Rajam had passed away. Amma and Kuppu just sat on the steps of temple pond and cried inconsolably. After amma's mother died it was her mother's brother, Radhakrishnan Iyer, who looked after young Kalpagam, her elder sister Kuppamma, and their grieving father Ramanathan, who had lost his young wife to illness and was left to care for two young daughters, for which, he gave up his well paying job. As time passed, his finances dwindled. It was his self respect that did not allow him to seek help from Radha mama. Radha mama's wife Pattu maami disliked the two girls, as well as their father, intensely too. You can imagine the poverty in which they lived. Luckily they had by way of an asset a sprawling residence in Thiruvanmiyur. I spent my holidays there with Thatha.\" Paati's uncle, Radhakrishnan Iyer, was a fairly well-to-do businessman mainly trading in copper in pre-war Madras. He was a business associate of Ramnath Goenka, the famous owner of the Indian Express newspaper, and had a residence in Linghi Chetty Street (an area which is somewhat like Chandani Chowk in Delhi). It was very near the Chennai Port, Madras High Court, the beach, and commercial centre of Parry's Corner. During war time bombing, the family moved to Thiruvanmiyur. When paati was around 15, her beloved elder sister Kuppu Janaki Ammal, was married off to a gentleman by the name of Narayanan who was an electrician employed by the predecessor organisation of the present Electricity Board. He died young, reportedly of an electric shock2. A couple of years later, in 1937, paati herself was married to KS Ramachandran, who was the relative of a relative (KSR's mother Naamagiri, was the sister of paati's Saraswathi chitthi, her father's cousin, Krishnaswami's wife) - this alliance was suggested by Saraswathi chitthi. KSR was an orphan from the small village of Komaratchi, near Chidambaram. He was 9 years her senior. Soon after her wedding, Kalpagam paati moved to Mumbai, then Bombay, as thatha had found employment with Associated Press of India (which was later renamed the Press Trust of India). 2 Kuppamma and Narayanan did not have any issue though they adopted a boy named Ramu (who unfortunately later abandoned Kuppamma.) Kuppamma lived alone in Thiruvanmiyur with monetary help from Paati and passed away in the late 80s. 3

They set up home in Uma Niwas, Dadar. Her first pregnancy resulted in grief as the baby was either a late term miscarriage or born prematurely and did not survive. Soon after, on June 20, 1939, she gave birth to the first of her children who would survive to adulthood, Shantha. The family then moved to Matunga (known as the Mylapore of Mumbai), near the famous Aurora theater. [Paati's daughters, Shantha and Baby (named after her mother, Rajam) with Sugandhi, paati's eldest granddaughter and her paternal grandmother.] Her next two children3, sons Srinivasan- called Cheenu (in 1943) and Jayaram (1945), were both born in Mumbai, when they lived in Matunga. [Cheenu and Jayaram in Delhi, with an acquaintance] 3 There may have been another child who lived to the age of about a year before passing away from a fever, after Shanta, however, I am not certain on this head. This would have been before they moved to Matunga. 4

In September, 1946, less than a year before India became independent, they all moved to Delhi, as thatha was required to report at PTI's Delhi office. Paati recalled the scary times of partition and how the Muslim families living opposite Birla Flats fled to Pakistan and spoke about the horrific riots and arson including brutal murders which took place on the street outside. It can't have been easy being a young mother in her late 20s, with three young children, and a husband at work, having to live through such troubled times, (not to mention, she was also pregnant with her 4th child; a daughter she named after her mother, Rajam, born October, 1947, at home, in Birla Flats. ) In 1951, she gave birth to Krishnan (Kannan) also at home in Birla Flats, and in 1955, her last child, Suresh, was born, in a nursing home on Arya Samaj road, in Delhi. [Top: L- Suresh, R-Krishnan, Left- Suresh on rocking horse, Jayaram on chair.] In 1963, thatha was promoted to General Manager of PTI, and moved once again to Mumbai to manage PTI business there. But this time he went by himself and stayed as a paying guest in a flat that belonged to the famous Bollywood comedian IS Johar, in Marine Drive. However, as he was also still involved with PTI's Delhi operations , he had to travel back and forth. In the 60s, paati also started to lose her hearing due to otosclerosis and had to start wearing a hearing aid4. In 1968, Thatha moved to a flat in 14th Road, Khar, and paati and the family once again joined him. They enrolled their youngest son, Suresh, who was still in school, at Sacred heart school in Santa Cruz. In 1969, their younger daughter , Baby, got married. Paati then moved back to Delhi with her two youngest, Kannan and Suresh to allow them to finish school, enroll in college etc. 4Her hearing continued to worsen till she could barely hear by the time she reached her 80s. 5

Thatha meanwhile found a larger house in Santa Cruz (West View), so paati moved back to Mumbai for 6 months or so, before Srinivasan (Cheenu) was to get married, in 1971. Left to right : img 1- Cheenu poonal, img 2 & img 3- Kannan and Suresh Poonal Top row, left to right : img 1- Thatha and paati with Karthic (?), img 2- Thatha's sashtiabdhapoorthy (?) second row: Pushpa Periamma/maami (Cheenu's wife), with paati at thatha's sashtiabdhapoorthy 6

Img: Jayaram and Savithri wedding, 1976 India's then PM, Indira Gandhi imposed the notorious Emergency in 1975. Thatha, who opposed it vehemently, went on leave preparatory to retirement in February, 1976. He eventually formally retired in April of that year, after close to 40 years in PTI. Sadly, soon afterwards, he passed away in November 1976, in Delhi, while living in Birla Flats. Paati had been widowed at the relatively young (by today's standards) age of 56. After Thatha passed away Paati split her time between Bombay and Delhi, staying either with her eldest son Cheenu in West View5 and at Birla Flats in Delhi with son Kannan and his family. Eventually, the back and forth became too much and she settled down to life in Mumbai, in the late '90s. 5 The Maharani of Rajpipla, who was the landlady of the West View flat in Santa Cruz had agreed to sell the flat to Thatha, in the early 70s. 7

Paati with all 4 daughters-in-law- L to R- Akila Krishnan, Sushama Suresh, Savithri Jayaram, Pushpa Srinivasan Paati with Akila (left), Shantha (middle) 8

Paati with both of her daughters: (L to R) Shantha and Baby In her 80s paati fell a fair few times, needing a metal plate to be inserted into her arm. That meant she had limited mobility in her arm, but her fighting spirit was intact. She insisted on continuing to cook, clean, terrorise maids, and all her children. Paati had the unique distinction of living to see great-great grandchildren! She was to meet the granddaughter of her granddaughter, Sugandhi. Paati passed away last year September at the grand old age of 99. She lived by her own rules to the very end (after all, she denied us all a massive 100th birthday celebration!) She was a woman with an iron mettle and a spirit that soared despite the googlies life threw at her. She taught us all the value of hard work and kept alive such traditions as she could, so that we could all learn who we were. Like they say, if you know where you've come from, there are no limits to where you can go. Thanks for giving us all a bit of your fighting spirit, Paati, and keep blessing us always. 9

Srinivasan, the eldest son's memories- I am overwhelmed while narrating some of the incidents. After my elder sister Shantha was married off at the age of 18, I was given the task of taking care of my younger siblings. I also learnt how to cook from my mother. Those were the days when there was no gas! My mother had a sardarni acquaintance who ran a dairy. My job was to collect buckets of cow dung to make dung balls (maattu shaani) by kneading with charcoal dust procured from a close by depot. The kneaded stuff was rolled and sun dried in the terrace of our residence! That was our fuel for cooking and boiling water for bathing. There were no mixer grinders. It was all stone, pestle and mortar affair (ammikallu, aatukallu). Amma could grind idli batter but I took over that job as I grew up. There were no washing machines. Amma was the washer woman for a family of 9. That too I took over in due course. For festivals, she would make all the sweets and savories at home. No buying of things from shops. Churning butter, melting the butter into ghee was a routine job for her. She was an expert maker of pickles, kurudai, papads etc. our vacation trips to Chennai meant full preparation of food in tiffin careers all by herself. 10

After the sale of the West View house, I moved into my house in Kandivali in the beginning of 2003. Amma was at her aggressive best. Every day I got a dressing down as I returned late from my nursery and the odd landscape jobs. It was extremely tiring travelling from Kandivali to the Times office in town in a crowded train. More so when I had to visit my nursery close to Thane too. Amma had no idea about the distances to be covered and I bore all the insinuation that I was out gallivanting (oorusuthi she called me!) There were Government jobs in Gujarat as well as factory landscape work. The travel was tiresome and I often returned late. On my entering the home, I would see her complaining on the phone (landline) \"Why is Cheenu taking so long to return?\", without knowing I was standing right behind her. She would beathe a sigh of relief on realizing I was back. The boredom of having to stay alone was telling on her health. Often the home was unlit as she dozed off waiting for me. The moment I'd switch on the light she would greet me with a great relief. Those were very moving times of life. Then I found a way out. I gave up all my jobs and opted to stay with her fulltime. I took over all cooking and care for her as I saw her slowing down and her increased propensity to fall and fracture her limbs. Throughout, she was full of confidence about her recovery. but each of the falls took about four to five months to restore normalcy. That included physiotherapy as well. Suresh helped me a lot during those trying times. 11

Amma relished good food. She would tell me that Suresh served diced fruits and I should give that a try. I made it a point to do all that plus making tiffin every afternoon. She could not come term with her age related shrinking of body muscles and weakness. She thought an X-ray of her whole body would help the doctor give her an appropriate remedy for this. I took her to the orthopaedic surgeon close to our home who obliged with a full body screening just to satisfy her desire. He was the very person who operated on her hip and right arm (I still have the steel strip with nuts and bolts retrieved from the previous arm surgery). The orthopaedic surgeon exclaimed that Amma was most gutsy person he had ever met. When my elder sister Shantha's sad demise in 2015, when I informed amma of her passing, at first she said nothing, seeming to accept it stoically, but it had shaken her. She came to my room often with her walker to sit on the bed, and sobbed softly recalling how helpful Shantha had been in running the kitchen and taking care of her siblings after returning from school prior to being married off. Towards the end, Amma was my baby. Dementia had set in long before I could recognise it as such. No nurse I employed could put up with amma's tantrums, especially when bathing. Then I took over full time care of her during best part of 2017-18,in Kandivali. She was everything for me few days before her death. She said that she wouldn't like to leave me and go and she asked me hold her hand, which I did for pretty long time till she dozed off. Suresh, the youngest son's memories- My mother Kalpagam was a very intelligent woman. Despite her lack of formal schooling she was extremely bright, a self-taught, determined woman who listened to none but herself. She shared a funny incident from her childhood. When she was about 8 years old, and living with her maternal uncle's family- her cousin told her while she was posting a letter her father had written, that unless she did namaskaram to the post box, the letter wouldn't reach its destination. The poor gullible child did namaskaram to the post box much to the amusement of all the kids around! 12

Another thing I vividly remember, which once again speaks to her tremendous mental acuity, was an episode from when I must have been around 7 years of age. I was quite upset that Mrs. Chandran, the wife of one of my father's colleagues, who had been educated to MSc Botany level, and several other ladies with whom we socialised in Delhi, spoke English, but my mother could manage only broken Hindi at best. One holiday I decided I'm teaching her English. I fought, cried and made a scene till she sat down for a 'class'. I wanted to test her memory of alphabets, so I took a newspaper and started pointing out alphabets and in a few seconds after peering at the paper, she started to read the headlines, although a little slow at first, in a few minutes she could read small columns and knew what everything meant! One more episode, which is still so fresh in my mind is the time she and our upstairs neighbour, Meenakshi maami, (mother of my friend Sundar), hired a tonga, to take them from Karol Bagh to Chandni Chowk to do a massive grocery shop. They bought 40 kg sacks of rice (which were very necessary to feed a family of 8- my eldest sister was married by then), various daals, raw whole spices, 15 ltr tins of oil. This trip was special to me personally because I was allowed to sit up front with the tongawalla, which, to a 6-year old is the very definition of heaven! Both ladies were Tamil speaking, not very well educated, Hindi was as alien a tongue as could be, and yet, they had ventured into Khari Baoli on a tonga in the very early '60s to make these purchases. It was down to sheer spunk and grit. It was what made her a survivor. 13

Unfortunately, as her hearing degenerated in her 60s she lost her confidence to go out into a crowd unless most were Tamil speaking. Nonetheless, not even the hearing impairment could dull her love for life and she remained sharp as a tack well into her 90s. She had a great sense of humour. For her 97th birthday, when my nephew, Rajan, asked her to pose with her sons, beer bottles in hand, she readily obliged. Even pretending to drink the stuff! Amma's spirit, her love, her giving nature, and her ability to keep us all bound together will be sorely missed. Sugandhi, the eldest granddaughter reminisces- Paati was way ahead of her times! She surprised me with her very innovative ideas! She would effortlessly fix a fuse in the meter box! She had fantastic memory of all the birthdays and anniversaries and will call and wish without fail. Personal grooming was of utmost importance; A neat bun tied at the nape of her neck always. She will never wear a baggy blouse! She will hand sew her blouse to give a perfect fit. Fantastic cook. Most of us learnt housekeeping from her. Yes, OCD but worth it! I was blessed to have her share my room in Bangalore for several years after thatha moved on. I was very happy to be able to introduce her to her first great-great grandchild! There is one regret- she refused to take a photo on my wedding day with me! 14

Sushama, the youngest daughter-in-law remembers- My mother-in-law, Kalpagam Ramachandran, was a woman of steel, literally. She was a strong lady. She had several fractures, and had a steel plate in her arm, and a knee cap, and don’t know how many more. But that didn’t deter her from doing household chores. My husband called her 'Metallica'. She was walking around with her walker and was mobile well into her nineties, until the last couple of years before her death. She loved little children and loved her grandchildren and great grandchildren. She was a fantastic cook and cooked for the family for a long time. She knitted beautiful sweaters for her grandchildren. Despite having four young robust sons, she did everything on her own. Like climbing up on stools to get something from the top shelf. She was a very independent woman. There was a lot to learn from her. Recipes, independence and the \"never say die.....\" spirit (literally!) This year, she would have completed a century. But by her 99th year she was suffering from pain and ailments and I’m glad god decided to release her from all her physical pains. May her soul be at peace. 15

Anu, the granddaughter who spent the most time with her, recounts- Delhi Patti, (to everyone who knew her no matter how much I argued it considering most of my life was spent living with her Bombay lol) was a strange mix of strength, discipline, fortitude, intelligence and batshit crazy!! Let’s just say, growing up it explained a lot... the gene pool and so on haha ;) As I’m writing this I realize there’s so much I want to say! So much I remember of all of those attributes. Although the most striking memories I have of 'Delhi' Paati are almost mundane, like of her drying her long almost black hair even when she was in her 90’s (thank you gene pool), her watching her favorite TV shows realllllyyy LOUD, her hunger for knowledge always reading and staying up to date with the news (Erm, excuse me gene pool, but I really could use your help here. Ahem!), her reading her much loved Tamil magazines, her tearing the date off the cute little kitschy calendars we used to have (note to self - buy one! God knows 2020 could use some love), her making the almost exact quantity of food in the world’s tiniest most precisely used paathrams (until of course Chad entered my life and wondered what the rest of us would eat after he was done serving himself -lol) and of course all the naainsaafi I had to bear being a “girl” and having God’s gift of my monthly cycle which basically translated into me being treated like a beggar with food and water delivered on the floor (yes FLOOR!!!) outside the kitchen door (bat shit crazy - see??). For those of you who fail to see the irony of this so called God’s gift, basically the TamBrahms believed in isolation of women during their initial days of the cycle (Google it! Lol). Of course this also opened up a whole world of opportunity what with her rules of not directly or indirectly coming in ANY POSSIBLE CONTACT WITH ME... enter gene pool! My bat shit crazy response was “accidentally” bumping into her and feeling absolutely shattered (NOT!) she had to have a bath all over again OR me touching all of her belongings when she wasn’t looking (seemed fulfilling then, ok? Don’t judge me!) And there was so much more but I’ll spare you and save that for my very own Delhi/Bombay Paati biography hee! :o) 16

But before I wrap up I have to leave you with what I think is by far one of the funniest memories I have of Paati. Chad and I had been seeing each other for a couple of years before we got married but Paati would always refer to him as “My Husband”. I thought either (1) she was actually a super chilled out Paati and maybe our gene pool was pretty damn good after all OR (2) this was her way of subliminally reminding me of my virtue and silently emotionally blackmailing me into marrying him (duh I mean really?!?! Have you seen Chad?? Like I needed any more motivation please!) LOL :P But as it turned out I was wrong! I mean she was pretty chilled out and all and I did marry him BUT when I asked her one day what the real reason she never called him by his name was, her answer literally sent me into a fit of laughter so hard it may be the point at which my latent asthma decided to rev up (again, gene pool! Come on! Focus!! We want the good stuff get it??! Ugh! Never mind! Wonder if it’s possible to drown a gene pool? Hmm?!) LOL! Ok back to Chad. So Patti sheepishly explains to me that she was embarrassed to call him by his name because after all who names their child NAARKAALI! My excellent grasp of the Tamil language of course meant I took a whole two minutes to understand her predicament. And so I married a CHAIR! Epic!!! Cue asthma LOL! And on that note I will write this, that whatever transpired in my life and whatever jokes I may crack about our gene pool, I do love Patti dearly and I am so glad to have been a big part of her life as much as she was a part of mine. I am happiest that my beautiful girls Savanna and Simona got to spend time and entertain their Kollu (cool?) Patti. They got to eat her yummy food and kiss her extremely soft like butter cheeks. Rest In Peace Delhi/Bombay Patti. I will love you forever. Anu 17

Tarangini, a granddaughter recalls- My paati was an inspiration to me. While no one in the family who knew her would object if I labelled her a tyrant, we'd also all have to accept it was due solely to her fierce love and protectiveness towards her family. Having lost her parents at a young age, and leading the difficult life of a Tamil Brahmin widow for almost 43 years, she learned to be self reliant and was very independent. As my cousins have said, she was the quintessential matriarch, the glue that held the family together. She was always very well put together, with her expertly worn silk sarees, a heavy gold chain around her neck, gold bangles, and her diamond nose pin and ear studs glittering...the epitome of TamBrahm maaminess. Growing up, I remember her cooking for all of us Delhi cousins in the Birla flats house. Guru, Janani, Sumi, Mahesh, Yashu and I would all be seated, cross legged on the floor, and both Akila chitti/ maami and Paati would be hard at work in the kitchen, making their wonderful rasam, sambhar, vatha kuzhambu, various koottu and karis, and my favourite by paati- the tiny chopped vendakkai (bhindi), which she would fry till crispy and slightly charred. On special occasions like Diwali, I couldn't wait to go to Birla flats because I knew there would be paal payasam (or paruppu payasam, or mysore pak). A friend of my father's described her fluffy idlis as \"little bites of clouds\". Much as she enjoyed feeding us, she was also a lover of good food herself. She enjoyed a variety of north and south Indian foods. She was partial to sweets, a lover of patisa and balushahi (which she called 'badusha' in Tamil), and also jalebi. She spent the vast majority of her life in the north, and she became quite fond of foods like chhole bhature, dahi bhalle and tikkis and often asked my father to cook them for her, when she was no longer able to go out. The strangest combination she enjoyed was bread soaked in rasam! She was a hoarder of sweets! Often someone would bring her chocolates and she would say, \"Give those here, I have to hide them from Cheenu. He mustn't eat them as he has diabetes.\", but really, it was because she was loathe to share. Her firm favourites were jujubes. For being an orthodox Iyer woman, she was fairly forward thinking. She did not object when my parents decided to get married, because neither had my mother been selected by her, nor indeed was she of the 'right' community (not an Iyer!) 18

Albeit, it may have helped her case that she was a Maharashtrian Brahmin after all, who happened to speak fluent Tamil, and Iyer baashai to boot. As our generation grew up and found partners for ourselves, very few of them Tamil or Brahmin, she accepted her grandsons and granddaughters-in-law into the fold with love and warmth, even if she wasn't the most demonstrative. Despite being mired in tradition and also rooted to some of its less savoury aspects (madi, aacharam, menstrual taboos etc.) Paati practiced her own brand of feminism, long before that word came to mean much in India. She took an active interest in the state of her finances and made informed decisions, despite not having had a formal education. She took care of her father who had been unable to work for many years. She also took care of her elder sister, who had been widowed young and who was also childless. She ensured that not only her daughters but also her sons learned how to cook. Perhaps, this is why all four brothers are such good cooks. When my parents married, my mother was a working woman. Far from objecting, as several others of that generation might have, paati encouraged and supported my mother working outside the home, often asking my father to make her a cup of tea when she returned home from work. Growing up, my sister and I often wore shorts or short dresses around her, and I don't recall her ever saying to us we mustn't do that, although, she expressed her joy at seeing me in sarees, which I often wore when I was doing an MBA in Pune, telling me how well they suited me. After my MBA, I spent 8 months living with her in Bombay, as I was working there. She would prevent me from having tea or coffee in the morning, and press me to have milk with Boost or Bournvita instead, 19

which she herself drank religiously every night, telling me how important milk was for us women, as we all had to bear children (which, at 24 years old, were the furthest thing from my mind!) She had made, for all her granddaughters, some gold and pearl earrings in the same design. I still have mine, and wore them most recently to my younger daughter, Nithya's, anna prashanam ceremony, in paati's honour. I was very pleased that at the age of 90, hard as it was for her to get around by then, she agreed to attend my wedding. A couple of years later, when we visited her in Mumbai, much to the surprise of my husband, Mithun, she cooked for us- she had made rasam and kesri. After lunch, I heard a loud commotion outside, so I came into the living room. I found my horrified husband trying to wrestle a heavy pressure cooker away from paati, which she was insisting on washing by hand at the kitchen sink (at age 92, with a steel plate in her arm!) When my elder daughter, Trayaa, was born, she loved seeing her when we visited Bombay each year. And when my father visited her, she would ask to see videos of her great-granddaughter, or call me on video chat to watch her little girl antics live. I feel blessed to have had the love of my grandmother for as long as I did. I miss her screechy voice scolding me, because I know that was her way of expressing her love. Happy 100th paati. 20

Sumithra, a granddaughter recalls- Resilience is the capacity to bounce back—to face, manage, overcome, and be strengthened by adversity. I can think of no better person to exemplify this definition than our dear Delhi patti. Being the wife of a great luminary like Ramachandran thatha, would not have been an easy job. However, she always remained as a pillar of strength and support for the entire Ramachandran family. Some of the my earliest memories of Delhi Patti are from the time we spent with her at Gulmohar park in Delhi in the 1980s. I have always been told how I resemble her and to this day I hold that dear to my heart. I have looked up to her as a role model for her wisdom, love, and dedication to the family. I have always found her to be so resourceful and knowledgeable in so many ways. It is amazing that she did all this without having a formal school education. She was so happy, proud, and supportive during all the milestones in my life. She cheered me on from my undergraduate studies through my master’s to my Ph.D. I remember her joy and happiness during my wedding celebrations. She was thrilled that she had a “Doctor mappillai” who also happened to be an Iyengar!! Even when her health was failing, she made a great effort to come to Chennai for Sanjay’s Ayushahomam. It was so special to me! 21

The unique things that I remember about her are many, but my favorites are below, • I remember her hair care tips that involved boiling hibiscus leaves in oil and using it for massaging the hair. • She always drank a glass of warm milk with honey at night before going to bed. • She liked to read Tamil magazines so much! Kalai magal, Amudha Surabhi, Mangayar Malar and Kalki were her favorites. • One cannot forget her love for Sun TV tamil serials and shows. • She was a terrific cook and every dish she made had a remarkable flavor. She had a special gift! It is said that cooking is a way to express love. So many in the Ramachandran family have inherited her love for cooking. • I remember her love for kara-sev, athirsam, badhushah, rasam vadai, curd vadai, wafer biscuits, jujubes, chocolates, and ice cream. • She was always particular about cleanliness and hygiene both in the kitchen and outside. I remember her always tidying up and keeping clean kitchen countertop before going to bed. • I remember watching the exorcist movie with her in Chennai and her expressions were priceless! • I would not do justice to her memory without mentioning her extra loud voice and ability to read the riot act when there was any misbehavior!! I feel incredibly lucky to have visited her one last time with my family in 2019 before her 99th birthday. We all need something stable to hang on to, a culture connection, a sense of our own past and a hope for our future. She was all this and so much more. Delhi patti has taught us all quite few life lessons by being a resilient fighter all her life. Here we are celebrating her 100th birthday and all I feel is an immense sense of gratitude to the ‘Eternal Matriarch’ who was there for all of us. We are blessed that she will continue to live through us and inspire generations to come. Happy 100th birthday Delhi Patti!! 22

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