Barka Babu passed away today at 5 pm at a hospital in my hometown, Mokama. He was 86 years years old. For the last one month he was ailing and was bedridden. We all called him Barka Babu because he was the eldest of my father's five brothers. 'Babu' is the word for 'father' in Magahi. In a joint family like ours we would address all our uncles as Babu. That is why we had Barka Babu, Manjhla Babu, Chhota Babu. Not only this, as my father's five cousins also lived in the same traditional house having a courtyard in the centre and a Dalan in the front, we would address them as Goru Babu (because his complexion was fair), Karu Babu(dark complexion) etc.
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Barka Babu expired exactly at the same age (86) at which my grandfather had died. Like his own father he also worked as a Sorter in the Indian Postal Department . He was, thus, known in our small town as Ramchandra Singh Sorter. There were many other similarities between him and the Grandfather. They both were recognized for their hard work, honesty and sincerity in the department. Each had had the privilege of being the head of our joint family. In fact Barka Babu had succeeded my Grandpa after his retirement.
When I recall my childhood days, I am able to see him as a man of average height in his usual dhoti and kurta going to his office. He was duty-bound, never late for work. When he came back from work, one could observe a very controlled smile on the face. Otherwise his usual self was serious. With the children he would relate more. He had his own way of interacting with them. He would call them by their pet names at a very high pitch and they would get scared.
He had led a disciplined life-- right from getting up in the morning to getting ready for the day, then prayer, meals; everything had to be on the right time. I could not imagine Barka Babu being ill or bedridden ever. When he was the head of our joint family, it was his responsibility to take care of any member who became indisposed.
I remember once when I became down with fever as a child. Everybody in the house said, "Let's wait for your Barka Babu. He would do the needful." I kept on waiting for him to come from office in the evening. I was barely given any food. It was an unwritten rule in the house that anyone suffering from fever will remain on fast until he is taken to the village ayurvedic doctor. One could be given only warm water or hot milk to drink and thin arrarot biscuit of Brittania company which was popular in those days. My mother coaxed me so much to drink milk that I started hating the very sight of milk and biscuits since then. I was actually waiting for the time when Barka Babu would arrive and solve all my problems.
Finally when he came to me in the evening, he put the palm of his right hand on my forehead and paused for a few seconds. Those were the moments for which I was waiting for long. Indeed I was feeling very hungry and weak. I was expecting I would be given the freedom to resume the normal diet. But to my utter disappoinment he said, "Be on the fast for one more day". From then onward I would shudder at the very thought of being ill.
Before his demise he had stayed in the village, bedridden, for two weeks. Then he was brought to Patna for treatment. He had not been ill for such a long time. Perhaps it was a surprise for him too. That is why when my father, his younger brother, (6 years younger than him) went to see him there, he said, " Rambahadur, I am going to the next world now". My father replied, " Dada, don't worry. I shall follow you soon". It was only about ten days after this conversation that he passed away.
.JPG)
Barka Babu expired exactly at the same age (86) at which my grandfather had died. Like his own father he also worked as a Sorter in the Indian Postal Department . He was, thus, known in our small town as Ramchandra Singh Sorter. There were many other similarities between him and the Grandfather. They both were recognized for their hard work, honesty and sincerity in the department. Each had had the privilege of being the head of our joint family. In fact Barka Babu had succeeded my Grandpa after his retirement. When I recall my childhood days, I am able to see him as a man of average height in his usual dhoti and kurta going to his office. He was duty-bound, never late for work. When he came back from work, one could observe a very controlled smile on the face. Otherwise his usual self was serious. With the children he would relate more. He had his own way of interacting with them. He would call them by their pet names at a very high pitch and they would get scared.
He had led a disciplined life-- right from getting up in the morning to getting ready for the day, then prayer, meals; everything had to be on the right time. I could not imagine Barka Babu being ill or bedridden ever. When he was the head of our joint family, it was his responsibility to take care of any member who became indisposed.
I remember once when I became down with fever as a child. Everybody in the house said, "Let's wait for your Barka Babu. He would do the needful." I kept on waiting for him to come from office in the evening. I was barely given any food. It was an unwritten rule in the house that anyone suffering from fever will remain on fast until he is taken to the village ayurvedic doctor. One could be given only warm water or hot milk to drink and thin arrarot biscuit of Brittania company which was popular in those days. My mother coaxed me so much to drink milk that I started hating the very sight of milk and biscuits since then. I was actually waiting for the time when Barka Babu would arrive and solve all my problems.
Finally when he came to me in the evening, he put the palm of his right hand on my forehead and paused for a few seconds. Those were the moments for which I was waiting for long. Indeed I was feeling very hungry and weak. I was expecting I would be given the freedom to resume the normal diet. But to my utter disappoinment he said, "Be on the fast for one more day". From then onward I would shudder at the very thought of being ill.
Before his demise he had stayed in the village, bedridden, for two weeks. Then he was brought to Patna for treatment. He had not been ill for such a long time. Perhaps it was a surprise for him too. That is why when my father, his younger brother, (6 years younger than him) went to see him there, he said, " Rambahadur, I am going to the next world now". My father replied, " Dada, don't worry. I shall follow you soon". It was only about ten days after this conversation that he passed away.
