Manohar Devadoss’ Life is his message

No matter what the context of your Life is, no matter how challenging the situation is, you always have the choice to be happy despite the circumstances.

4-min read

To my soulmate Vaani and me, Manohar Devadoss personified love, compassion, courage, dignity and a deep, hearty, full-of-Life, laughter!

We will always remember him for those amazing, exceptional, qualities.

As I write this tribute, his funeral is underway. He passed on a couple of days ago. He was 86.

To many, he was a rare artist, who, despite his failing eyesight for decades, and his eventual blindness some years ago, created extraordinary works of art. To others, he was Mahema’s lover and companion, until she passed on in 2008. To many others, he was an exceptional human being and a very dear friend.

Love in action

Mano, to Vaani and me, was always loving. The magnificence of his love shone in his tight hugs. Each time we met him, he would immediately embrace both of us together, his big whiskers brushing against our faces. He literally poured his heart into that embrace every single time.  And he would exclaim heartily: “AVIS, Vaani, how are you both?” That moment always oozed authenticity. It wasn’t just another soulless, matter-of-fact, greeting. It was love in action. It was what being loving truly is.

Genuine, deep, compassion

His compassion too was genuine. It was expansive, limitless and deep like the oceans.

When Vaani and I first met him, in September 2015, he was very moved by hearing the story of our enduring bankruptcy. He complimented us for being the happynesswalas^TM and for living a Life of purpose – Inspiring ‘Happyness’ ^TM! He had someone read out my book Fall Like A Rose Petal to him. And in November 2015, in an edition of our conversation series, the happyness conversations^TM, where he was our guest, he empathetically remarked: “I am not sure my pain of not being able to see and of having lost my companion Mahema is bigger, or your pain of continuing to deal with a crippling financial situation is bigger.” This ability to feel another’s pain and place it higher than your own is rare. That is true compassion.

During one of our visits to his home in Santhome, he served us his signature salad, Tulsania. He chose to serve us salad only because he knew we were on a diet. Now, he did not have someone make the salad for us. He went to the grocer’s on the morning of our visit and bought the ingredients for the salad himself. And he tossed up the salad, with lettuce and walnuts, in a fresh homemade mayo dressing. He insisted on serving his preparation to us. And he served us a couple of helpings. There is an Urdu word for hospitality called khatirdari. It defines the act of serving a guest with compassion. In being served by him, and while savoring his preparation, we experienced Mano’s legendary khatirdari.

Remarkable ability to face Life’s upheavals undauntedly

It was his remarkable ability to face Life undauntedly that guided and shaped his journey, even without normal eyesight and, over time, despite total blindness.

His entire Life is evidence of this ability.

Mahema and Mano married in 1963. They lived together for 45 years. She passed away in 2008. Of these 45 years, Mahema lived with quadriplegia for 35 years; a devastating accident had rendered her quadriplegic in December 1972. Around the same time, Mano began to have progressive, degenerative, eyesight; this eventually led to total blindness. Yet, Mano cared for Mahema, diligently, compassionately, for all those 35 years! If Shahjahan built the Taj Mahal for his beloved, Mano ensured – though his love for her, his practical thinking, his toiling – that Mahema lived through those 35 years, unable to use her limbs, without a single bedsore! He also anchored himself to stay strong, alongside Mahema, as they raised their beautiful daughter Sujatha in the midst of their individual, physically debilitating, conditions. And, for over 14 years, since Mahema’s passing, Mano lived alone. He led a dignified, purposeful Life, being immersed in his art, his writing and in his public work. “There is no point in moping and mourning about the challenges that Life throws at you. We must learn to laugh at ourselves, at our situation, and at Life itself,” he told us, when we had a conversation with him in June 2016. Excerpts from this conversation are due to appear in my forthcoming book, The Happyness Road.  

Mano and Mahema – together again!

His laughter had a spiritual quality

All through that conversation, which lasted a couple of hours, Mano laughed full-heartedly. He laughed even when he recalled all the upheavals that he had experienced in Life. Over many interactions with him in these past few years, Mano’s laughter, to us, became a part of his identity. In fact, if you have met him and experienced his laughter, you can hear him laugh even in most pictures of him. Vaani and I have often felt that his laughter had a spiritual quality. It was wholesome, honest and conveyed a deep understanding of what Life really is. It reflected a unique celebration of Life: Of its inscrutability, of its impermanence and of its suchness!

Vaani, Mano and AVIS, June 2016. Picture by Vinodh Velayudhan.

An embodiment of courage

Mano’s true religion, we believe, was courage. He practiced living each moment fully, courageously.

Now, courage is not necessarily evident only in popular acts of physical valor. Courage is certainly not the absence of fear either. The ability to look fear in the eye, to stand up to what scares you, is courage. So, being able to face Life’s upheavals, without giving up, without becoming bitter, is courage. Being able to withstand pain, while choosing to not suffer from it, is courage. Choosing to immerse yourself in what you love doing, when darkness engulfs you – in Mano’s case, there was physical darkness too, given his impaired eyesight – is courage. To let go, and to flow with Life, is courage. Being useful, even when you can’t be successful in a worldly sense, is courage. To live a Life of love, compassion, dignity and cheer, despite constant pain, despite enduring constraints, is courage. To laugh at yourself, at your situation, and at Life, is courage! To be happy, to be non-worrying, non-frustrated and non-suffering, despite the circumstances, is courage.

Surely, being Manohar Devadoss was never easy. Pain has been so integral to his Life’s journey for 50 years. Yet, he just kept flowing with Life, accepting it for what it is, and never once, feeling either self-pity or bitterness. There’s a word in Tamil called thunivu that personifies courage through human action. For Vaani and me, Mano’s Life will always remain an embodiment of thunivu.

Mano’s kind of courage is rare. It is quiet. But it is unputdownable, it is unmissable. It shines bright. And such courage lights up the lives of people who come in contact with those that display it.

This is what happened with Vaani and me too when Mano came into our Life. Our Life illumined with his influence. Which is why we believe his Life is his message – for anyone who wants to pause, reflect and learn how to be happy despite their circumstances.

Additional, relevant, links:

• Manohar Devadoss.
• Rise In Love  – a 2015-documentary, made by a young filmmaker Shalu C. While focusing on the journey of Vaani and AVIS, the film explores how love thrives in the face of adversity. Viewing time: 30.18 minutes.
• Fall Like A Rose Petal  – AVIS’ first book. It is the true story of AVIS’ and Vaani’s Life. It captures learnings from the excruciating, fascinating, Life-changing, experience – a crippling bankruptcy – that they are still going through.
• Click here to know more about the happynesswalas ^TM, Vaani and AVIS.
• If you wish to seek Vaani’s and AVIS’ perspectives on a Life challenge you are faced with, please reach out here – Let’s Talk Happyness ^TM!

Protect your inner peace and happiness!

Tandra, Kushal and ‘Fall Like A Rose Petal’

Gratitude, humility, grace and dignity are required to deal with Life’s inscrutability.

Our friend Arup from Kolkata called us up last evening. He sounded distraught. He reported that we had lost Tandra Sarkar to cancer. Tandra was Arup’s close friend, and a beautiful and courageous lady, who had launched my Book Fall Like A Rose Petal (Read more here) in August 2014 in Kolkata.

When we launched my Book in August 2014 across Chennai, Bengaluru and Kolkata, with Hyatt being the Principal Sponsor, both Vaani and I were very clear that we didn’t want a ribbon-wrapper unveiling. We wanted people like us, stoic folks, who had braved Life, to launch my Book. So, we had a bomb blast survivor and bilateral amputee Malvika Iyer  launch the Book in Chennai. We had Maneesha Ramakrishnan who survived the ghastly Carton Towers fire launch it in Bengaluru. And in Kolkata, we had Tandra Sarkar, who had then been battling Stage 3 cancer, to launch Fall Like A Rose Petal.

AVIS, Bedo, Kushal, Tandra and Vaani

Like Tandra, her husband Kushal too was stricken with cancer when the Book launch happened. They were fighting the disease valiantly when we met them. Arup reported yesterday that Kushal passed away last year and Tandra died last fortnight. Apparently, she had enquired about Vaani and me a few weeks ago and had expressed a desire to meet us again. Arup promised to arrange that meeting. But since she passed away, Arup connected to share her wish with us.

Kushal, Vaani and Tandra

We have met Tandra and Kushal just once at the Hyatt Regency, Kolkata, at the Book launch. But I have such a vivid memory of that meeting. Former NASA scientist-turned-filmmaker Bedabrata ‘Bedo’ Pain (who has written a meaningful Foreword for my Book) handed over the copy of Fall Like A Rose Petal to Tandra. In her address, to a hall packed with 200 guests, Tandra talked about Life – about its inscrutability…she spoke about approaching Life with humility and gratitude. Even once she did not talk about her pain. Or about her fears, insecurities or worries. My sense is she had none. Nor did Kushal. They both were an embodiment of grace and dignity despite Life having dealt with them ruthlessly. They both knew they were dying and leaving behind their wonderful daughter but there was no grief in them. No regret. Just an affirmation of what is, of the now. They enjoyed themselves thoroughly at the launch and helped us – who were rank strangers to them – celebrate our big moment of sharing our story with the world. Such selflessness, particularly in the face of personal pain, is both indescribable and not often seen.

Last night, after Arup’s call, when I lay down in bed, several questions came to me. Why did Life, through Arup and his wife Ruma, connect us to Tandra and Kushal? Why did Tandra ask to meet me and Vaani again? Why did we not meet again? I reckoned we will never know the answers to these questions. But I believe Tandra and Kushal came into our Life to remind us of the need for gratitude, humility, grace and dignity in dealing with our inscrutable lives. I know somewhere deep within me that they connected with the message of Fall Like A Rose Petal – which is of acceptance, of going with the flow of Life and of falling like a rose petal in the face of Life’s upheavals! Arup told me yesterday that my Book still sits on Tandra’s and Kushal’s bookshelf. I guess, someone, sometime will read it. And perhaps will glean their own learning from it.

As I fell asleep, I sent out a prayer to Tandra and Kushal; and to their daughter. I silently thanked Bedo, Arup and Ruma and prayed for them too. It is these human connections, however temporary or fleeting they may appear to be, that make Life meaningful despite all its apparent inscrutability!

Harsha Bhogle and the art of winning a battle without fighting

Fight only if you must. Sometimes, the best way to win a battle is not to fight at all.

Harsha Bhogle has been axed as commentator by the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) from the IPL 9 Season. As is the case with most BCCI decisions, no reasons are forthcoming. Meanwhile, the rumor mills are working overtime to suggest that any of these three – or all – reasons may be valid: BCCI being ‘deeply influenced’ by innocuous (per me) Tweets by Amitabh Bachchan and M.S.Dhoni conveying their personal opinions on how commentators must commentate; Harsha’s run-in with a Vidarbha Cricket Association official in Nagpur over a common-sensical suggestion and how Shashank Manohar, the current BCCI President, stepped in and stood up for this official; or how players have begun to influence the BCCI on who should be chosen as commentators. But when news broke out on Saturday evening, when the first match of IPL 9 was being played between Mumbai Indians and Rising Pune Supergiants, that Harsha will not commentate, the man in the spotlight was off to watch a movie with his wife Anita in Mumbai. All he did was he tweeted his surprise at the turn of events.

I think this is a phenomenal quality that Harsha’s got – to not fight everything and everyone that comes in your way!

Though not among my personal favorites (L.Sivaramakrishnan and Danny Morrison are), Harsha is clearly a world-class cricket commentator. He’s worked hard to follow his bliss and he, deservedly, is very, very admired. Just the outpouring of sentiment in his favor, over his axing, is evidence of how much he’s loved. Yet, the landscape in which he plies his trade is fraught with BCCI’s mafia-like ‘control’ of the game and infested with intra-organizational, political landmines. And Harsha perhaps knows this better than anyone else. Hence his choice to not lose his dignity or sanity trying to stir an already confounded situation is commendable. Undoubtedly, the public – his fans and followers of the game – is with him.

There’s a learning here for all of us. When someone queers your pitch, just walk away. You don’t have to respond to every provocation or pick up every gauntlet that’s hurled at you. Some battles are best left unfought. People react to situations based on their own insecurities, perversions or justifications. Things happen in Life because that’s the way Life is – it keeps on happening, endlessly, often mindlessly. So, if you get embroiled in trying to bulldoze your way every single time someone or something becomes an obstacle, you will only be fighting inconsequential battles all your Life. Precious personal positive energy will get drained this way. Sometimes it is better to be silent and work around a problem person or situation than wanting to decimate an obstruction. Be stingy about where your energies go. Choose the good fight – where there’s a cause, where more than just you will be benefited, where there’s an opportunity that your victory can make the world better. For any other battle, not fighting is perhaps the best way to win!

A Life lesson from Neerja’s father, Harish Bhanot

Don’t allow anyone to do injustice to you and don’t suffer injustice.

Rama and Harish Bhanot – both have passed on Picture Courtesy: Neerja Bhanot Archives/Internet

Yesterday, I watched Ram Madhvani’s brilliant biopic on Pan Am flight purser Neerja Bhanot (1963~1986) – ‘Neerja’. And I cried twice. Once, at the theatre, when Neerja (Sonam Kapoor in an unforgettable performance) reads out the letter that her first husband Naresh, undoubtedly a poor human being and an MCP, wrote to Harish Bhanot. And the second time I cried when I thought about that scene again, later in the evening, while sitting on my couch at home and nursing a drink. The letter is a cold, brutal, factual expression of how women are treated in our country, in some of our families. I cried the first time because I could relate to every word in that letter – because that’s how my mother has always treated Vaani. I cried the second time because I felt guilty that, in the early years of our marriage, I had not succeeded in fighting the injustice that was meted out to Vaani and me. And that’s precisely what Harish Bhanot teaches his daughter, Neerja: “Never allow injustice to happen and never suffer it.” I wish I had known this back then – that I must not just stand up, I must stand firm, even if it was against my mother, for Vaani. I wish I had stood firm the very first time that Vaani was treated unfairly.

I am not saying this by way of justifying my insufficient action at that time. But the context in a typical TamBrahm – perhaps in most Indian families it is so – family of the 60s/70s/80/90s was that the daughter-in-law shall slave it out. And the mother-in-law will dominate. The son shall not speak up to the parents even if it meant standing up for his companion; because how dare you let down your mother in front of your wife? Besides, this lousy logic that ‘all mothers-in-law will have problems with their daughters-in-law’ and ‘it happens in every home’ was used to smother the fires. In our family particularly, no one dared to question the source of all things fractious and manipulative – my mother! And every time I tried, whenever an episode of injustice happened, I failed miserably. Each time I tried to protect Vaani, I would be shouted down in a long-drawn, physically draining, and often-times violent too, completely uncivil war of words. That my mother and I had a poor chemistry, that in deference to her wish, we are staying in ‘their’ home in the first 18 months of our marriage, didn’t help matters one bit. We had to pay for phone calls that Vaani made to her parents and we had to pay for the food that her family members consumed when they visited her. Vaani was never allowed to use the washing machine and she had to wash everyone’s clothes by hand. The maid was sacked on the pretext of being a perpetual latecomer – but the ‘real’ reason was that since Vaani was now expecting a baby (Aashirwad) and was going to be at home, ‘let’s save the maid’s salary and put Vaani to work’. There are countless horror stories that can fill a book and that consumed several nights of our early, young, adulthood owing to the domestic strife we had to face.

It is possible that I may be appearing to be petty recalling all this here, after all these years. It may also look like I am being uncharitable to my mother who may not necessarily have grown up, though she’s certainly grown much, much older. To be sure, for my own inner peace, I have forgiven her long ago. But the truth about Life is you can forgive people but you can’t always forget what happened to you (I have shared more on how this can practically work in my Book ‘Fall Like A Rose Petal’; Westland, 2014). That part of ‘Neerja’, the letter-reading scene in particular, brought back painful memories that I did not want to ever revisit. Yet, this is not about my past, this is not about how heartless and remorseless my mother’s behavior has been, this is about a lesson that no one taught me then. In fact, I didn’t even know there was a lesson. But upon reflection I feel everyone should know this one lesson – even if you don’t learn anything else in Life: You, and only you, are responsible for your inner peace, dignity and happiness. Don’t allow anyone to do injustice to you and don’t suffer injustice.

You don’t have to always fight – as I foolishly tried to for years – with a view to avenge your detractor or change the person, you can simply walk away. The biggest power we all have, the simplest option we all have, is to get up and walk away from a situation or a person that hurts us or makes us unhappy. We don’t exercise this option because we wonder how society will look at us, we think of how that person will feel if we walked out. I have learnt, from experience, that how you feel is most important to your inner peace and happiness. If you feel something’s not right, something unfair is happening, stand up, say no, and leave.

It’s time all of us made a sincere effort to change our lives and our world. Especially the way we treat our women. Spouses, companions, friends, parents, siblings, family – whoever you are, if you must stand up for your lady, do that. As the father of a young, adult, daughter today I can relate to the pain that Vaani’s parents must have felt seeing her go through what she did and seeing me so helpless – they knew I loved her do deeply. I definitely don’t want my daughter to ever go through what Vaani had to experience. And this time, I know I will not just stand up, but stand firm.

There’s a part of all of us that is always wanting to be warm, willing to adjust, open to accommodate and ready to tolerate. But let all the warmth, adjustment, accommodation and tolerating happen at a practical, material level. And let it stop there please. Don’t allow anyone to affect your dignity just because they are older to you or more powerful – whoever they are. Because when you allow that you end up becoming unhappy. Your inner peace and happiness are the only wealth you have – protect them till your last breath!