“Today, you are known as Aamod, Ram Pradhan’s son. I shall be proud of you when people come up to me and say “This is Ram Pradhan, Aamod Pradhan’s father”.”
I don’t know if I have done justice to Baba’s words or fulfilled all the dreams he saw for me, but these words are etched on to my mind and serve to inspire me every single day. I remember them, just like I remember all his prudent words, his sense of humor, and his presence, which comforted me and made me feel loved, protected, and cared for.
People say I was born with a silver spoon, but most forget the silver spoon was earned through Baba’s hard work, dedication and generosity. Today, our family is reaping the fruits of the rich legacy he left behind for us.
Baba was an unusual man – given to his eccentricities but a well read, confident man who commanded respect in business and political circles of Mumbai. Irrespective of the flak he drew from his critics, he was, in my opinion, an extremely ambitious, intelligent and confident man, gifted with a heart of giving and who left a mark on the minds of each and every person who was fortunate to know him. He commanded respect from friends and business rivals alike. His harshest critics acknowledged his grit and determination and his ability to convert dust to gold. To me, he was more than a doting father, he was my friend and mentor. I was like putty in his hands – a shapeless, direction less young boy who became “Aamod” under Baba’s watchful eye and his strong hands.
My heart swells with pride whenever someone tells me that I am a chip of the old block. Yes, I feel proud when people measure me against his wit, charm, and exuberance.
In Baba’s times, it was a commonly held belief that a Marathi manoos can never become a successful businessman. He can be a good teacher, a serviceman, a follower but never an entrepreneur. Marathis were known to be risk averse and cautious in their approach towards life. But, Baba was a rare Marathi manoos…one who sought to put all his professional experience in creating a shipping company from scratch. Like all businesses, ours was susceptible to the usual “feast or famine” situation but I always remember being content with what I had. Baba made sure all my needs were met, without the need tell him.
I like to believe I was the luckiest child in the world – is there a child who has never asked for a new toy or clothes or even a bicycle? I was such a child but I was also like any other child, I wanted to have things that I saw around me, things that mattered to a child. In unspoken words, Baba provided me everything I desired but somewhere he took something from me in return. I don’t remember what he took, perhaps there were promises made. A promise to learn and accept all that he taught me at a very early age , an assurance that I shall never forget how fortunate I was compared to other kids around me and that I shall continue his philosophy of giving in life.
Give only then shall you receive.
Baba taught me to have gratitude for everything we had in life. This was to be my first lesson of life.
Have gratitude for what you have and you shall continue receiving more. There is an old adage about a cup and teapot that best explains his philosophy. If the cup stands below the tea pot in gratitude and reverence of what flows to it from the pot, there is a constant flow which gets replenished time and again. Change the order, place the cup above the teapot and the flow ceases.
Baba was a very well read man and his love of books meant he had much respect for education. In those times, it was rare for a parent to attach so much importance to books and education but unlike my friend’s fathers, Baba was different. You could say it was an aspect he was very strict about. Should he even see me with my head on a book, smack used to come from a hand on my head.
There were so many instances in my childhood where Baba surprised me with his generosity and his spirit of giving. As a teenager, I was obsessed with owning an imported bicycle, the fancy ones with great features like speed gears but Baba was unrelenting, he didn’t even want to consider the idea of one. My cousin, Bhushan asked me to start reciting hymns and meditate in order to get my wishes heard and sure enough, my persistence paid off.
One afternoon, he asked me to go downstairs and collect some papers from his office boy. When I went to collect them, the office boy was standing next a brand new bicycle, just like the one I wanted. This was the time in my life when I learned my second lesson of life – that of patience and perseverance. It was a reward for my perseverance and a gift to let me know that he acknowledged the fact that his denial to get me the bicycle did not warrant any altercations or arguments between us. As for me, it was a triumph of my subtle nagging.
Neglecting any forewarnings issued by his advisors, Baba had indeed fulfilled my dream. With much humor, I also remember the time I had started playing cricket. I think he saw potential in me. After all, he was a member of the Bombay Gymkhana and played a lot of different sports. I wanted a season ball to practice with so we went to a sporting goods store where he bought me a complete season cricket kit which cost Rs. 3500 in 1985/86. Whether it was a cycle or the expensive cricket gear he bought for me, Baba had an art of giving.
He was a firm believer in the paradigm: If you want to do something, do it well. Strive to deliver more than you promise.
His critics said that Baba could impress people with his generosity. In my opinion, he was a firm believer in the Cosmic Law that life gives back to you what you give to life. Your life is not a coincidence, but a mirror of your own doings. He strived to give always as he knew he would be rewarded back in unknown ways, not necessarily by the same individual, but by the Universe.
As a young adult, I missed out on most of my college education because I got a real education with him. Even though this perturbed me, I never questioned him. I attended business meetings with political leaders and other businessmen, always learning, trying to glean as much information as I could. Now that I am well in my thirties, I can understand his wisdom in doing so. It was a blessing in disguise. Going to work with him and looking after all the different aspects of business taught me a lot of what I have imbibed in my work and what has become my philosophy in life.
When he had the stroke, I wanted him to give up smoking. Though it was an integral part of his life and no one – not his wife, not his siblings, and not his parents, were able to convince him to stop smoking. I think of this as one of my biggest achievements that he quit smoking for me.
I envisage him as a big tree that protected me, sheltered me, and shaped me into the person I finally became. He polished off my rough edges until I shone like a diamond. I would like to believe that I am another extension of him, even though he was a far better human being than I can endeavor to be.
He used to tell me “Aamod, never hide anything from your father. Even if you murder someone, come and tell me. I will always be there for you. I will always help you.”
Even though I have two daughters now, I am still Baba’s child. There are days when I want to feel his presence, when I want the familiar sense of being protected and sheltered. He may not be physically present around me but I know he is always watching over me, protecting me and my family. In my times of need, he will always be there.
