This incident has left a lasting imprint on my heart & mind. Although I don't really remember what year it was, I do remember it vividly enough to share. It was winter in Mumbai, and one of those rare Sundays when Baba was at home. For lunch, Ma had made "Methi Parathas" & "Raita", a family favourite meal. Just about an hour before we four were about to sit down for lunch, the doorbell rang. I opened, to find a thin, feeble middle aged man, wearing shabby clothes and worn out slippers at the door. He was looking for Baba. Once we let him in, he introduced himself as "Thimayya" and told us that Baba's colleague had sent him. I still remember his hard South Indian accent as he spoke. You see our little home was in need of some fixing up here and there and Thimayya was a mason and a house painter.
So, as we showed him the cracks that needed mending and discussed the possibility of a fresh paint job, he took measurements and noted them in palm sized notebook he was carrying. Once the tour was done, he sat down, doing some calculations in his head and jotting them in the notebook. That is when Baba offered him a cup of hot tea. Thimayya however, declined saying he was famished and would head straight for lunch once he was done here.
Without another word, Baba went to kitchen, took two of the Parathas from the casserole and plated them. He asked Ma to serve up a bowl of Raita for the man. Ma obliged and took the plate of food out for Thimayya herself, who was all but astonished at first and even tried refuse the offering. But the next thing I remember is him eating the first Paratha and finish the entire bowl of Raita. He must have been actually very hungry. The second Paratha was not on the plate for long and Baba offered him more. This time Thimayya didn't refuse and complimented Ma for making such delicious food.
By the end of the feast, he had finished five Parathas and polished off half of all the Raita, Ma had made. Before leaving, our uninvited guest, thanked us for the meal profusely and handed a page torn from the notebook which I think was his contact information. Baba patted him on the shoulder and showed him out.
Ma was somewhat annoyed as there wasn't enough food left for the four of us, to which Baba just said "the poor man we just fed will not forget this meal for his entire life" .
We ended up sharing the remaining Parathas and ordered some take out food from a local restaurant.
There are many such incidents of my father's unwavering kindness that I have witnessed over the years, some as vivid as this one, others slowly fading away from memory with time. But I do know this now, even without any abundance and riches of his own, my father was indeed a very rich man!
The pandemic took Baba from us in December 2020., and I miss him everyday.
~Tutu
