Remembering Panna Choudhury on his 75th Birthday

Remembering Panna Choudhury on his 75th birthday, Jan 11 2022. 

By Pallavi Choudhury Tripathi

(Sikkim, late 1990s)

Hi Baba,

It’s been 7 years since you left us. You would have been 75 today. You would probably have been the most youthful 75 ever! Miss your presence everyday. Not having you around to ask for advice, use as a sounding board, complain about Ma, start another home improvement project, discuss the world, finance, cricket, kids, movies, drinks, travel, anything and everything … your touch was so subtle and understated, the void it left is all pervasive. 

You made everyone around you shine brighter. And you made everything so simple. “Eat less, do more”; “Hope for the best, expect the worst”; “You don’t have to know the answer, you just need to know how to find it”; “Whatever you do, be the best”; … even the cheeky ones were wise - “If you have to lie, don’t get caught!” You could sit smartly suited up with the top policy makers of the world and debate on global issues, and were equally likely to be found sweeping the driveway in old worn clothes, enthusiastically discussing efficient brooms and mops. You were always doing something. Your ability to juggle work was amazing. Day or night, you always had ten things to do! And yet, you always had time to listen. I can’t remember ever learning anything from you from books, Ma had that department fully covered! And yet, I learnt everything from you from what you did, and the way you did it. 

You were always there … till you weren’t. It hurts to know that your grandchildren will only know you from stories about you. I remember standing on our terrace in our newly built Noida house, just a few months before you left us. There was construction all around, flyovers were being built, high rises and malls coming up. We were discussing the history of this house and other houses in the larger family. You said - one generation builds, the next enjoys - and I said, well we’ve both built this house so we can both enjoy it! You just smiled. A few months later you left. The flyovers got built. Our house, well it’s a never ending work in progress. Some high rises got built, others got stuck in litigation. Life moves on. I think I understand your smile a little bit more now. All of us have our own purpose. It’s up to us to own it, embody it and enjoy it. Just as you did. 

Miss you forever. Happy Birthday Baba. 🎂

Remembering Monisha Choudhury

Remembering Monisha Choudhury on her birthday, January 10.

By Pallavi Choudhury Tripathi

You would have been 69 today. Still can’t believe you are no longer with us. When we were kids, we thought it was very cool that your birthday was on Jan 10 and Baba’s on Jan 11, so the midnight between the two, we could technically wish you both! We actually did set alarms a few times to do exactly that, and you went along even though you were not a late night person. But we still wanted two cakes!! 

Funnily, since we shifted in together to Noida in 2014, we’ve always ended up with 2 cakes for almost every celebration, whether it would be you baking or getting one, or Tuki baking or sending one, in addition to the one I would get to mark the occasion. But you only had one birthday with Baba in Jan 2015, before he left us that September. The double cakes continued. Now, you are both together again, and for the first time in my life there are no more January double cakes to start a new year of birthdays. 

Happy Birthday Ma 🎂 🎂. Miss you everyday.

Some memories from your last birthday:

A Narrow Escape

 (By Biswajit Basu)

*A Narrow Escape*

When you travel a lot, you open yourself to a lot of dangerous situations.  I had a narrow escape from a bomb blast about 30 years back.  On 12 March 1993, I was scheduled to join Shibesh, Swati's brother, for lunch at the Oberoi where I was staying.  On the morning of 12 March, Shibesh called to say he would not join for lunch as he was returning to Calcutta immdiately.

If I remember right, 12 March was a Friday and I thought it better to return to Delhi that day itself as I had finished my work in Bombay.  So, around noon, I walked down to the Air India building next door to change my airticket.  I finished this change and walked back to the hotel.  Soon thereafter there was a  terrible sounding muffled thud.  A bomb had ripped through the Air India building!  There was absolute chaos in our hotel with people running around in the lobby.

I returned to Delhi by an evening flight that day.  It was a narrow escape.  I dread to think of the consequences in case it had taken a bit longer to change my ticket!  I would probably not be around to write this.

Terrorism is a terrible thing.  It is an act when trained killers target innocent lay persons with death.  It is an act of cowards on an unarmed public who cannot retaliate, even in self defence.

I had also got stuck in Himachal Pradesh in June 1984 when Operation Bluestar was on and there was no way we (My boss Mr Verma and I) could return to Delhi.

Finally we made it by going for miles on the bed of a dried-up river (on an old  Ambassador car) strewn with pebbles, rocks and boulders till we found a lane to shimmy up to a road with the help of villagers.

Barely 4 months later, I was going for a meeting in Janpath Hotel and I had to pass between Safdarjang Hospital and AIIMS.  I saw a huge crowd there and while passing asked a bystander what it was all about.  He told me that Princess Ann  (of UK- who was visiting India then) was in AIIMS and he did not know for what.  I found this rather incongruous that such a large crowd would be present to greet a princess.

When I reached Janpath Hotel, there was absolute silence with a huge crowd in front of the lobby tv.  There I learnt that Mrs Indira Gandhi had been shot and was battling for her life.  I rang up Monisha, my sister, who was then an working in Safdarjang Hospital.  And she told me that her boss had been called to AIIMS and had returned with her saree spattered with blood.  She had told Monisha Mrs Gandhi was dead.

I immediately summoned all our chaps with whom I had a meeting (they had come from my Head Office in Vizag) and told them to check out and get out of Delhi by whatever route they could get tickets on.  Fortunately they did not get stuck in Delhi when the riots  started that day against the Sikhs.

But another Area Manager, Mr Ruud Cornet, who had come from the Netherlands to meet us got stuck for 15 days or so but did a good deed by shifting our local Agent (a sardarji), Mr Joginder Singh Anand and family, to his room in the Maurya and hiding them till the riots were over.

Those were scary days as our neighbours in R-1/2, Hauz Khas were sardars and we stood guard in the roof of the corner house (then Mr Kaul's) with grass cutters like swords as marauding mobs with fiery torches paraded in front of our house looking for sardars to kill.  Very tense and scary days.

Added by Tina:
Wow. Didn’t know any of this. I have one indelible memory of the 84 riots, though I was very young 5-5 years old. We were living in RK Puram. I remember Ma making Baba hide in the store room. Apparently, there were people shouting in the street for ‘doctor sahib’ and had seen a car with a Dr. sticker parked outside. I remember we had a small brown carved twin blades decor item. Ma made Baba take one of the knives and hide in the storeroom. 

I have another memory from our RK Puram days, which I think is from the same event. Nene mama (Bashob De) was in IIT hostel that time. The phones were not working. Since it was close to our house, Jorbagh Dida asked Ma or Baba to walk across and check on him, which they did.