Remembering our Father

Father’s Day (Third Sunday in June in US) in the modern times is strange. It tries to make a commercial nonentity of a purely personal relationship. How can there be a single day for remembering billions of fathers across the globe, living or nonliving?

I remember our father throughout the year, in fact in every instance while looking into a mirror; but the season in the winter months (हेमन्त ऋतु) makes my eyes moist with some tender poignant memories of the bygone years. In India one can seek the help of a priest and observe parents’ anniversaries with due diligence. Such facilities are available at Kasi, Gaya, Pithapuram  (గయాసుర పాదగయ), and many other places. The Raghavendra Swamy temple also offers such services throughout the year.  In US we run into difficulties for finding qualified priests in smaller towns and remote suburbs.

Posterity often thinks of fathers and forefathers in terms of money, inheritance, assets, physical attributes (particularly those in the filmdom), or even some fragment of talent (IQ, musical ability, etc.).  But in an ephemeral world what is lasting? Monies have been lost, lands lose fertility, buildings decay lacking proper maintenance, and physical beauty also takes a beating due to the ravages of time. We must remember fathers for those unique intangible qualities which no test tube or Artificial Intelligence (AI) can gift us freely. Here, in this short note I try to capture my father’s personality and give a faithful portrait of his sensitive nature.

Father was very soft and caring. Often he would spontaneously shed a tear at the plight of a beggar, a disease stricken person, or at times he would melt away at our own endless family problems. Whatever be the issue, in a real trouble he would seek the help from Lord Siva – leaving (discarding) aside all the mean earthly bosses or rich relatives. Now as I recollect my childhood and college days I often wonder and exclaim thus: What a marvelous courageous human being! A lesser man would have lost hope and despaired, become despondent. No, not our father – he was an embodiment of true grit and bubbling spirit.

Every year he would take me to a fully qualified doctor and get annual medical checkup. Father was always very apprehensive of the coastal mosquito bite (malaria, now the dengue and other variants) particularly the filarial vector. Not to lose sleep over such unexpected calamities he took me to a pharmacist (P. Rao) and got me a full dose of prophylactic injections. We used to see several people in the neighborhood suffering from the debilitating effects of the disease (filariasis). Such medical visits kept me healthy during formative years; the practice taught me to respect the body and its routine maintenance.

He was much ahead of the modern medical modalities, often incorporating alternate therapy whenever it is available. Once he approached a village herbal doctor for my pestering skin problem. The herbalist solved the issue with one dose of medication; earlier I had consulted a dermatologist in a big city hospital to no avail. I wish I had helped my father with his medical tests and screenings; unfortunately I was away from my native place for most of my studies. Still I feel very lucky to be very close to our father. Often he would confide in me about his routine screenings like cholesterol or high blood pressure.

Father always supported me in my (higher) studies; he made me concentrate (with valid reasons) on studies to the exclusion of everything else. When I was struggling in fourth grade with routine math (long divisions by hand) he arranged tutorial help for the summer two-month recess; it was so intensive and timely godsend that by July, I was thoroughly prepared and proficient for the high school entrance exam (VI grade). In college when I got abnormally low marks in chemistry exam father came to our city and met with my professor to discuss the matter. Later I changed my major – and in the long scheme of things it did not affect my professional career.

His zeal for life and his approach to life’s mundane problems is very unique. Once he had some mild apprehension about the advancing years or an irritating pain due to tooth cavity. Father gently asked a visiting Swami (true Sanyasi) for guidance. The Swami replied nonchalantly thus: “Nothing to worry, any way you trust Lord Siva. Just do the “mrutyanjaya mantra” or recite Chandrasekhara-ashtakam. All worries gone.” For a person who visited Srisailam several times during Maha-Sivaratri festival that simple direct suggestion was enough. He never expressed any fear in life. That toothache, it got resolved with Dabur toothpowder (Lal Danta Manjan), so I think now. Interestingly father (my parents) gave me a big endowment: Excellent eyesight, strong functional natural teeth, and very adroit hands to work on gardening, handy repairs, or instruments.

Lastly I want to mention about bhakti and ethics. Per se, father never instructed me about morals, virtues, or character. As children we just learned from his exemplary character. With very little financial means he traveled the entire length and breadth of India – from Kasi to Kalahasti, from Gokarna to Puri. He remembered our ancestors (grand parents) and faithfully observed their anniversaries fully according to the tradition (scriptural instructions). Father used to gently goad me to visit our local temple every Saturday. Whenever possible I would perform (aided by our priest) puja at the temple on the Masa Sivaratri day – it was all due to my father’s gentle persuasion. Both my parents were lionhearted and full of optimism. Of all the qualities I cherish most is father’s indomitable spirit. My parents (like many of the earlier generations) had that rare quality of total (inner spiritual) contentment; they faced the vicissitudes of life with a smile. To this day it is wonder for me how our father achieved so much in life with so little formal education, meager financial resources, and unhelpful relatives; yet, he provided amply for his family and succeeded both here in the mundane world and hereafter. That was a hard scrappy south India in those days - without government handouts. A wild daffodil will bloom anywhere, every season. Copyright 2025 by the author

Coping with Accidental Falls

Coping with Accidental Falls

The physical body is like a chariot or car; we cannot do anything without the delicate physical body. So, we must be utterly careful about its health, mobility, and the psychological moods. Nowadays the family physicians (General Practice, Geriatric) are a bit more attuned to the needs of elderly people. At every annual checkup visit the family physician keeps asking about any physical fall, a trip, surgery, or injury to the head. Some home visiting nurses or doctors advise the patients about “fall avoidance”. They say: “Try not to keep any loose or slippery rugs on the floor. Make sure the bathroom tiles are rough to prevent slips. Put friction pads on polished floors or steps. Keep the bar soap away from the slippery floor. Hold on to sturdy bars or wall supports while taking showers. Always use the banister (side bar) while climbing the stairs, etc.” But any advice, even a well intentioned professional one can go only so far; much more valuable things we learn through the stern master of “experience”, sadly after paying the painful dues.

Now, what to do in a real life accidental fall? First we have to seek grace from our “guru” (or Ishta-devata, इष्ट देवता)  in such terrible situations. I may, with ample humility share some of my own terrible mistakes to shed some light on this problem. With age our bones become brittle – a number of factors conspire to arrive at the “brittle bone” condition. Lack of calcium (with vitamin D and other minerals) or poor nutrition is one contributing factor. Poor physical activity and hormonal changes also produce brittle bones. As young children we (my sister and I) just lived on potable water and clean air. Mother’s pure affection compensated for all the missing nutritional elements – lack of milk, protein, essential minerals, or fresh fruits. My own excellent eyesight (not to crow) and dental health is a testament to my formative years in the village (bless our parents). Much later in the college father took pains of providing nourishing milk and fresh tasty yogurt (curd). But even that modest correction of calcium was minimal and sparse. 

Though I experienced several falls or slips over the years luckily I escaped the broken bones situations. Once I was swinging on the front wooden (hinged) door and lost my grip. I fell down on the hard dirt floor near the porch. In the bygone era we used to improvise and play with whatever we could find. I escaped with a minor wrist dislocation. The local village doctors (Puttur Rajus massage and physical therapy) fixed it with a soft muslin cloth bandage and oil (cow ghee) massage. I owe much of my education and professional career to those lovely doctors and physical therapists. They did not take a single penny (paisa) for the orthopedic care; they politely refused payment from a young school going lad across the street, down the block. Such was their magnanimous spirit, extraordinary generosity.

In school days I had many more falls during bicycle riding – it was part of a learning process. Many of those falls were minor, with scratch on the shin or elbow. Some of the falls produced deep wounds with bleeding cuts. Again I escaped without breaking any bones; that saved the day for me. Luckily father never reproached me for such minor accidents. As I look back on those very active vigorous physical exercise days my only regret now is merely the lack of “basic first aid box” at home. A quick wash with alcohol and dressing with tincture of iodine (Povidone, Dettol, Bacitracin) would have kept my cuts dry and free of infection. In the highly humid coastal Andhra I would often get into complications with superficial wound infection. Many a time simple cuts or scratches on my skin used to grow into big septic wounds – an eyesore for several weeks, a sure curiosity arouser for all my classmates.

Recently we witnessed firsthand the disastrous effects of falls in our family. Three of our sister-in-laws experienced bone fractures due to accidental falls. In later advanced years surgeries or casts become very complicated and burdensome. In some cases doctors refuse orthopedic surgeries and weeks of postoperative confinement in bed. Prolonged inactivity or lying in bed increases the chance of blood clots and bedsores. All this analysis is to impress on adults (and elderly seniors) to stay physically active and continue with regular walks, stretching, or yoga etc. Also, we must assiduously try not to run or trip over loose water hoses, electric cables, extension cords, or furniture while we walk around or rush to attend a door bell. There is no need to run to the door and trip resulting in a bone fracture. Things can wait; a healthy mobile body is more valuable than meeting some one quickly at the front door. If Panduranga did not rush to the door to greet Sri Krishna, why should we hurriedly run to the front door for a mundane call? Accidental fall may usher us into a new “troublesome chapter” in life. It may, in some unfortunate cases lead to permanent disability or wheel chair confinement.

But we can certainly avoid such pitfalls with the help of a cane, walking stick, or a walker; yet this simple instruction is easier said than done. What are the other physical infirmities that contribute to poor balance and persistent falls? Here are some factors: Loss of hearing, poor vision (particularly peripheral acuity), dizziness, sudden changes in blood pressure (low), weakness, low blood sugar (often occurs with poor blood glucose control), dehydration, or nausea. Sudden acute cardiac events (angina, abnormal rhythm, electrical pulses, vagus nerve) or strokes can also lead to catastrophic imbalances and loss of body strength. To this we have to add the foot problems too: Hammer toe, deformed foot, improper arch, etc.

I will conclude with my own (limited) experiences with physical falls. On the steps of Pinakini River in Andhra I lost balance and fell on my back. I was a bit careless, did not notice (rather appreciate) the slippery moss on the river steps. But the sandy bank protected my head and I escaped without a scratch – thanks due to the presiding Lord Narayana (Sri Ranganayaka). Once during the wee hours I slipped and fell on the stairs with a transistor radio in my hand; then too I got saved due to the soft carpet on the stairs. But there was some other invisible grace guarding me all along. Another time I fainted in the bathroom due to extreme dehydration or stomach upset. Miraculously I regained consciousness after ten or fifteen minutes. Very recently this writer accidentally slipped from a swing while playing with children. It was totally unexpected and I badly hurt my shoulder, neck, and back. Fortunately the playground was filled with wood chips and that saved me from serious hard knocks on the head or bone joints. Still the recovery took more than three weeks. Only after lot of physical stretching, yoga, and repeated oil massage I got a complete relief from the chronic pain, joint aches, and stiff muscles. The over-the-counter pain medication did not help much. Again I pay my umpteen salutations (नमस्कार) to the guru and the Lord of Seven Hills.

I share some of my own difficulties with the body out of pure concern for others. I do not imply any gloating, any special privilege, or luck. Even in the best of times and circumstances “falls” can and do happen. There is a saying in America, it goes somewhat like this: “When you fall off a horse, get back in the saddle”. Similar injunction applies to the body also. We should simply forget about the fall and try to nurse the delicate physical body back to shape without dwelling too much on the misfortune. This article was prepared without using any of the modern AI tools. Copyright 2025 by the author