IT was unbearably hot and humid when I stepped off the State Transport bus in Kolhapur at the peak of summer. I had just graduated from college and was looking for a job in Mumbai. Since I didn’t know the way, I opted for an auto-rickshaw. This was my first time visiting Tanuja’s Kolhapur house, who later became my life partner. I could understand her parents’ apprehension in receiving me. I was sweating profusely after climbing up four storeys, and I had hardly slept on the bus; my first impression must have been a forgettable one. I introduced myself. Of course, I faltered and, on that cue, in walked a balding older man with a long white beard. He was dressed in a white kurta and pyjamas and had a pleasant smile and an unforgettable demeanour.
He wasn’t strongly built or tall, but he was a charismatic person, an enigma, an institution, a source of wisdom, and a witty, warm and delightful personality. He addressed the elephant in the room with such ease that I opened up immediately to him. That’s the start of the bond between us. He was Tanuja’s grandfather, Raghunath Shivram Khanolkar, fondly called ‘‘Tatya’’ by everyone.
Tatya had a special gift for getting to know people within minutes, and his home was always buzzing with fascinating characters. He had a top-notch sense of humour and a warm and delightful personality. I remember asking him once how he managed to find the time and energy to converse with so many varied people and how he could remain so patient. He looked at me with a sheepish smile and replied, “Look at you; I am tolerating you without any fuss.” His impulsive response caught me off-guard, and I couldn’t help laughing out loud.
Denne historien er fra February 21, 2024-utgaven av Outlook.
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Denne historien er fra February 21, 2024-utgaven av Outlook.
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Emergency, Stalled
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