Lion amongst men

K.G. Jayasimha — Chartered Accountant — 1953–2022

This is a personal memory — more as a son, than as a partner.

Every morning, he left home like clockwork for a 4–5 km walk, invariably bringing home chow chow, bitter gourd or bottle gourd. The day started with both Amma and us cribbing about why we don’t get other vegetables when the fridge is overflowing with bottlegourd.

As I finished my run and came to the society gate, he would invariably be sitting by the gate, soaking in the rising sun — asking me without fail, what is the use of all my running around.

Puja was a noisy affair. My uncle had gifted him a puja-bell, that sounded like big ben. Appaji swinging it around non-stop for half hour meant that we could never sleep in. no one could have a conversation as Appaji finished his puja.

Then came the dressing. The stained shirts, which were often reused or the dhoti he came to wear as his standard. He would always pick the oldest, most worn pair and amma and me would launch into him.

As we started working together last 8 years, I never felt welcome in the firm. My ideas were always challenged. Appa always held me back and cautioned me about all the investments or initiatives I wanted to take

Family trips were always temples. Family parties, always around Satyanarayana Puja.

We argued about everything. His incessant working, his strong views about food.

Road trips were silent — except for the violent fight at the beginning where I had to physically restrain him into a seatbelt.

Every other day, we would tease him about the bonda he ate with a friend or the sweets he consumed without regard to his health.

Me and amma pushed him continuously to change his diet, change his doctor, change his lifestyle.

He would get angry — oh how he would lose his temper. Most often, he would get more emotional and cry before we had a chance to do so as he scolded us.

I could never foresee, two years later, that I would not change anything. I will give everything I love to have these daily fights with him. To hear him ask once — oota aithenaiya — “did you eat”. Or to listen to him crib to my mother about me — “siduka nan maga” — “angry fellow…”

Till my close friend Vinay gave me an outside in perspective, I never realized that all our push-pull was as friends. He treated me as a friend — and I treated him as such.

Its two years since I lost my friend and i have pined for him every day for the last 730 days.

As I look back — his life was a lived lesson for us. He was not big on lectures.

His daily walks instilled a lifetime message to keep myself healthy. He never came home empty handed. What a provider he was.

Every initiative I wanted to take was met with “madayya — agathe” — do it, it will happen. As I speak to his friends and clients — all of them have only one thing to remember — his positivity and will.

As he spent the last 2 years of his life with a prosthetic leg — he left all of us imprinted with his will power. Our last office building had 2 floors and the lift often malfunctioned. The imagery of him dragging himself up 2 floors -every day — to ensure he got to his cabin and his beloved work.

Today, I have taken over his role as the provider, his office, his social responsibilities and his habit of daily puja.

As I swing the prayer bell everyday — I swing it harder and louder. I need to mask the shaking in my voice as every day, I miss him.

Appaji, if I can become all you were, I will be a “lion amongst men”