Remembering My Father and the Power of Confelicity

Last Friday marked three months since I lost my father, Nanji Devshi Chandegra, otherwise known as ‘Manu’ or ‘Man U like Manchester United’?as my Dad used to introduce himself.?

Manu was more than just my father;?he was a beautiful soul with a deep understanding of what it means to support the family. His definition of ‘family’ was all encompassing, reaching many beyond my mother, myself, and brother. I believe his vision of who and what family is, can inspire us all.?

Manu was born in Nairobi on 26 December 1951 and was the eldest of five brothers. His father was a plumber, and his mother was a housekeeper. It was a humble start and as a child he only had two pairs of shorts (known as chadies) and one pair of trousers?for special occasions such as weddings and birthdays.

He was a studious boy with a love for all things science, from quantum mechanics to astronomy, to later understanding anatomy and how to heal the body. In 1972 he came to the UK as an aspiring engineer and secured a place at the University College of London - however, it was not meant to be. Although he started the course, his father had other plans for him and encouraged him to go into business with his brothers, saying “One matchstick alone is easy to break, but it’s much harder to break five when they are together”.?

In 1976 aged 24, Manu started looking for suitable properties for the family and purchased their first Londis (grocery shop) in Kensington in 1978. Then with his brothers, acquired shops in Chiswick, Barnes, Ashford, Whitton and Brentford. They always bought the flat over the new shop to house their families, staff, and sometimes tenants, and eventually in the mid 1990’s, they expanded their property portfolio.?

My Mum & Dad worked hard together to build a successful business in the early days, working up to fourteen hours a day, six days a week and a mere eight on Sundays for seven years with no holidays. Fortunately, my brother and I lived above the shop, so we did see our father all the time, however, he was a busy man trying to build a better future for the next generation.

Manu wasn’t a corporate man (he didn’t even have a LinkedIn account), but he was determined to succeed. He respected and valued money because he knew what it was like to have very little. He?would often wear branded t-shirts that he got for free in promotions, drove a Nissan Micra, and when travelling, would opt for modest hotels and always fly economy. This wasn’t miserly, in fact it was the opposite; his generosity of nature knew no bounds and as his personal success grew, rather than seeking status or luxury, Manu chose to devote much of his energy and resources to other people’s success and happiness – the art of confelicity.?

Visiting India, Manu would ask fruit and veg hawkers how much it would cost to buy all their vegetables; They would give him a figure and he would then buy it all and distribute it to bystanders. Then, with a smile, he would suggest the hawkers go and spend time with their families, which naturally delighted them as well as Manu.

Once, whilst talking to the driver of a rikshaw he was riding in, Manu learned that because the driver pays rent on the rikshaw, he was left with very little to support his family. Manu casually asked how much a rikshaw costs and at the end the journey, amid traffic and trying to get off safely, Manu handed over what the driver thought would be the fare for the journey. It was in fact the entire cost of the rikshaw, giving the driver the opportunity to change the fate of his whole family.

Closer to home, Manu treated his staff like his own and called them ‘beta’, which translates as an endearing way of saying, ‘child’ (a sweet way of saying ‘hey kiddo’). He would listen to their problems, support them emotionally, sometimes financially, and he would even go around to help them jet clean their backyard! If they couldn’t get transport on Christmas day (the cost of a cab would sting on shop wages) he would pick them up and drop them off.

Manu would naturally give to others in whatever ways he could, and with his interest in anatomy (his main interest was healing, anatomy was secondary that is why he learnt shiatsu, reflexology, reiki and other techniques), he became adept at reiki. Friends and family often made a beeline to his door to have him help and heal their ailments. No matter how tired he was (and sometimes to the exasperation of my Mum!), Manu would let them in, listen to their woes, and use his energy to help them.

All five brothers wanted girls and women to be treated as equals, which led to the family partnering with a college to set up a girls’ hostel in Junagadh, Gujarat, India, so that it was easier for girls to get a decent education. Female education is not valued as much in many parts of the world. I’m proud that he and the family actively did something to redress this.

Manu retired when the pandemic hit (he retired in January 2019) and sadly, his illness took my Dad away from us just as the doors to the world were re-opening, so he didn’t quite have all the opportunities to travel that he had looked forward to – however he did become quite green fingered. I’m glad he had that. He was so proud of his garden, his patches of strawberries, tomatoes, garlic and so many herbs, vegetable, fruits and plants.?

One of the little things I shared with my Dad was a love of the TV show ‘Countdown’, from which we learned the word ‘confelicity’, which means taking pleasure in another's happiness (which is also the opposite of Schadenfreude!). From a boy with two pairs of chadies, good humour, and a curious mind, Manu followed his heart and conscience and went on to help many others less fortunate than himself lead better lives. In doing so he became a strong and fulfilled person who lived his life well and left a legacy for us all.

Let’s remember Manu through his greatest pleasure in life – the art of giving. Through it he made a brighter life for his family – not just us, his closest relatives, but many of the people he encountered on his path.

The Royal Marsden Hospital were truly magnificent in their approach to my Dad’s care during his illness for which I will be forever grateful. In support of their amazing work through the link below, I would like to try and hit a target of raising ￡20k, so that hopefully other families going through the same situation will receive the same high standard of support we did

Thank you in advance for reading this article and for your generosity. No matter how much you give, it will be one step closer to achieving our goal.

Royal Marsden link:?https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/burlington-associates