Skip to main content

Fifty and Counting

Not everyone wakes up in the morning, excited about going to work. Fewer still get to do that for fifty years. How lucky are you, Appa! That not only do you love your work but you get to practice it for over half-a-century. The funny thing is, you never aspired to become a lawyer. You had applied to study medicine along with four of your friends. While they received a call for interview, you didn't. You were heartbroken and consoled yourself that it was not meant to be. And it was your father and uncle who persuaded you to take up law as an alternative.

Did you even think back then that one day you would be celebrating your golden jubilee in a profession that you only took up as a consolatory choice?

But having resigned yourself to the choice, you threw yourself wholeheartedly into work. Sure you had your father and uncle before you to help get a head start in the profession. They were already established lawyers and you never had to struggle the way other newbies did. That said, how you took the baton and ran with it is entirely to your credit. You have never compromised on your integrity and you have worked tirelessly to get to where you are today. Even now, you rarely take a holiday and your spare hours are spent in the library reading up on legal matters.

I admit there were times when I wished you worked in an office like other fathers I knew. Those who worked fixed hours and took their families around the country on vacations on LTC. Granted that would have meant monthly paychecks and retirement at 60. And you could not have supported a large and rambling family the way you uncomplainingly did or carried on working for as long as you have. But working for someone else might have meant being with your wife and children more instead of putting in 14-hour work days all year round. Retirement might have meant taking time to enjoy your grandchildren instead of fitting them around client meetings and court hearings.

I see you bustling about in the mornings as you get ready for work. Answering phone calls, packing your briefcase, calling out to juniors, slipping on your black coat and rushing off to court because your case is about to be called. And deep down I know that you are never more happy than when you are working.

Fifty years in a career that you love and that has rewarded you in more ways than one can recount. And what's more, you aren't done yet.

Congratulations, Appa! We are immensely proud of you.


My brother giving a wonderfully measured speech at the function organised to felicitate my father

Comments

Shyam said…
"you ARENT done yet", methinks? (last but one line). Lovely tribute, A :)
Anonymous said…
He's lucky indeed. Congratulations to your father. Where is he seated in the pic?
Poorni
ammani said…
-Corrected. Thanks, Shyam!

-3rd from left, Poorni
artnavy said…
great going and to think it was his second choice of career...
RaajK 2.0 said…
Great tribute. Add my வாழ்த்துக்கள் too.
Hip Grandma said…
my grandpa was a lawyr too and I think healso put in 50 years of work before he quit.great job done.please congratulate him.Is your brother a lawyer too/
kaaju katli said…
Congrats to your dad!!!
ra said…
congrats again! what a lovely tribute.

If he had retired you might have been wishing he had more to do...how does one find a balance? tis a question even we are struggling with.
Balakumar said…
Have not been here in a ages. And came into another awesome post. :)
Congrats to your dad!

--Bala
vt said…
In addition to being highly respected in his profession, he is lucky in being blessed with two highly accomplished daughters and a brilliant son. Congratulations to him and wishing him many more years at the wicket.
naga mama
project why said…
very touching
anou
Priya said…
Very nice! Congratulations to your dad.
Aarti said…
1st time here!!
And what a post... congrats to your dad

beautiful post!!

You May Also Like

Guest blog by Chinna Ammani

Here’s an interesting write-up by Chinna Ammani on stereotypical portrayals in Indian adverts. The opinion expressed is strong and the language uncompromising. Read at your own peril!-a

The Aiyaiyo Syndrome

These days I do what is called as a shooting supervision. When ads are filmed (with lip sync) in Tamizh, my job is to teach models their lines and rehearse with them. Most of them are from Mumbai and are non-Tamilians. So when they have to do a line in Tamil, for example "Adanaaladan Dettol ubayogikaren" (And that's why I use Dettol) , they invariably say "Aadanaladaanu naanu Detttaalu ubayogikkareanu" (Something hideous). Their exaggerated delivery of our supposed accent is all thanks to Hindi actor Mehmood. My blood pressure rises and I yell "DO NOT DO A MEHMOOD HERE. WE DO NOT SPEAK LIKE THAT".

Though their voice is dubbed later with a Tamil voice-over, I ensure that they pronounce it the non-Mehmood way. Mehmood has done this major damage to us So…

Bio-data

Married for 31 years, 2 months and 17 days
Six cups coffee a day, brewed everyday of marriage
Three meals a day,
At least two dishes cooked, each meal-time
One snack for every Sunday
Big basket of clothes ironed every Tuesday
Average 18 items of clothing washed per day
Three children
1 miscarriage
One mother-in-law suffered
900 sq metre of floor space mopped, once a day
One caesarean endured
3 chicken poxes, 2 measles, 2 fractures, 8 diarrhoeas, depression, conjunctivitis every summer, 1 tonsilitis and countless common colds and flues
1 job held for 29 years
6 hours slept every night
Sex tolerated every 2nd week
Religious rituals everyone of them, carried out
Not one of them, believed in
Lived 52 years and some
Died exhausted

Overheard, “At least she had the satisfaction of having lived for her family”


http://jikku.blogspot.com/2005/02/quick-tale-3.html#c111042815438237631

The Saturday Poem

Found this in yesterday's paper. Again, I wish I'd written it.

-a

Now and Then

"Now that I'm fifty-seven",
My mother used to say,
"Why should I waste a minute?
Why should I waste a day

Doing the things I ought to
Simply because I should?
Now that I'm fifty-seven
I'm done with that for good."

But now and then I'd catch her
Trapped in some thankless chore
Just as she might have been at
Fifty-three or fifty-four

And I would say to her
(And I have to bite my tongue)
That if you mean to learn a skill
It's well worth starting young

And so, to make sure I'm in time
For fifty, I've begun
To do exactly as I please
Now that I'm thirty-one.

-Sophie Hannah

Lost in Post

To a little boy

It cannot be easy being you. A follow-up act to your more devilishly charming, flamboyant older brother. Before you were born, I was convinced that no child could ever take the special place your brother had come to occupy in my life. I used to argue with your father you would always be a second-born. A runner-up. A bridesmaid (or a best-man, as you turned out to be). That you could never be the prized, cherished, celebrated apple of my eye that my firstborn child was. But how easily you tore down my flimsy little conviction. The minute I saw you, I knew I was gone. What was worse, I succumbed willingly.

My fears that you would be overshadowed by your brother have proven unfounded. Over the past year, you have come into your own as a person. Your brother demands and challenges our love and attention. You, on the other hand, are much more accepting of our distractions with him. It is almost as if you understand that he is used to being the star of the show for much of his…

I ask, you write

Okay, here's the idea. I ask you a question and you write a short story explaining it. Let me give you an example.

What happened when young Padmavathi was drawing water from the well to wash her clothes, early one Margazhi morning?

Annon's story

One morning when Padmavathi was drawing water from the well, she found Pettai Rowdy # 1 Govindarajulu inside the bucket! She dropped it at once and Govindarajulu went down and down and hit the bottom of the well with a Nung sound. His upper and lower teeth fused together and since then he has been fed intravenously. Pettai Rowdy # 2, Ragothaman Iyengar, who suggested this to Govindarajulu, now rules the roost.

After marrying Padmavathi, he is inviting all of you to a water drawing ceremony at the new well they dug in their house.

Jai Ragothaman Iyengar! Jai Padmavathi! Come one, Come all!

-

Here's a question for you.

What happened that made young Meenakshi change her mind about the parrot green saree she had originally chosen and go for a …