A Retirement Journal: Impacting vs Touching my Life

Two people whose early lives were both shaped by the same cataclysmic geo-political event passed away the first weekend in February. The event was the violent birth of modern India and Pakistan in 1947. The violence was chronicled in many places including Freedom at Midnight which describes the carnage around the displacement and migration of 15 million people along with the slaughter of up to 2 million humans. Hindus left or fled what was to become Pakistan for India. Conversely Muslim did the same in what was to become India.* ?One of the deaths earlier this month was of a man whose Muslim father flew the then 3-year old and his family from their ancestral home in Delhi to resettle in Karachi, Pakistan. ?The second person, then a teenager, left with her Hindu family from the Sindh area as her dad reportedly was able to charter a plane. Most people involved in the Partition were not as unfortunate as our two subjects in their mode of transport. Trains, boats, carts, and most by foot were all ways the sea of humanity moved west to east or east to west at the birth of the two countries. Everyone involved left behind everything in their flight.

The young boy was Pervez Musharraf who later became a general in the Pakistan Army and took over as the President of the country in a bloodless coup in 1999 to become Chief Executive and served ultimately as President of Pakistan until 2008. The teenage girl was Auntie “J” who as an infant, years earlier, had suffered another trauma. She miraculously survived a massive earthquake in Quetta rivaling the recent Eastern Turkey-Syrian earthquake in magnitude and casualties. Auntie J after resettling in Delhi, married a fellow refugee, a young Doctor. He was Uncle “J”. ?She made a life in newly independent India as a wife, a mother, and as a science and biology teacher in a Delhi. Musharraf over his lifetime impacted my life as well as that of most Americans. He was prominent in the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan where he supported the newly birthed Taliban. ?Subsequently, Musharraf served as an ally to the United States when we invaded Afghanistan in 2001. That invasion was intended to take out the Taliban who had harbored Al-Qaeda leader and 9/11 Mastermind Osama-bin-Laden and hunt down the terrorist leader himself. Uncle and Auntie J also impacted many lives, though maybe not as many as Musharraf. However, I know of many more lives that were deeply touched by Uncle and Auntie J. This blog is a tribute to Uncle and Auntie J for how they touched my life.

I met Uncle and Auntie shortly after moving to California and Palo Alto in 2002. I was introduced to them by one of my brother-in-law’s good friends who also lived in town. Uncle and Auntie lived only a then 5-minute (getting old is tough!) walk from my home. ?They reminded me of my own mom, who I had recently lost, as well as my then still living dad. Uncle J was ebullient and exuberant like my dad. Both men could be bombastic though Uncle J’s bombast was usually more researched and grounded than my dad’s. Auntie J was warm, caring, and hospitable just like my mom. And though incredibly bright herself, Auntie would let “Doctor” be “Doctor” just like my mom used to do with my dad in company. Uncle and Auntie were both fabulous hosts just like my parents. Uncle and Auntie Js’ apartment became my "Friday After Work" home for a couple of hours. They kept my own bottle of Heineken for me though sometimes I would share a glass of Scotch with Uncle J. People would always be already present or drop by- from adult children to grandkids to friends. The conversations were lively and far-ranging. While it was Uncle J who held court, Auntie would frequently be present listening, while other times in the kitchen fixing a meal for the guests. You could tell this woman had both intelligence and wisdom. In fact, if the subject of conversation at hand was at the intersection of medicine and biology, I would usually resonate with Auntie J’s calm assertions over Uncle J’s declarative pronouncements.

Uncle J, the bigger personality, would hold court not just at his home but also at the India Community Center in Milpitas as well as the smaller annex in Cupertino. He was involved with many projects at the Center, one of which was the chronicling of the Partition story so that it would be preserved for future generations. Three recollections in particular about Uncle J stand out for me:

·?????He was the one adult non-relative (we Indians have a lot of relatives!) that I would always be talking about to and with my kids. So much so, that about 10 years ago my then NYC daughter Elena quipped to me, “But, he is your only friend Dad,” after I told her I had spoken at my friend Uncle J’s 90th birthday party (picture above).

·?????When I lived the expat life in India a dozen years ago, my colleagues would do the “Costco Trip” on their frequent visits back to the States. This entailed bringing back toilet paper, paper towels and diapers. I did the reverse. Uncle, who had heart issues despite his blustery exterior, would “aid” his doctors in diagnosing and medicating himself. He would ask me to do “Chemist (aka Drugstore) Runs” to bring back medicines from India. I could get for $10-20 US, medications that would cost several hundred of $ here at home. I am not sure what Rx only protocols or drug import rules I skirted or violated on these numerous Chemist Runs. But that was Uncle J!

·?????Uncle J was a man of his patriarchal era and society. He did not suffer fools and their actions- at least what he considered foolishness. ?Once he needed to change some details and dates around his and Auntie’s upcoming flight reservations to India. I tried to tell him to reach the United Airlines Call Center. Believing face-to-face was better, Uncle summoned Auntie and asked me to take them to San Jose Airport where he would deal with the agent at the ticket check-in counter. The young woman at the ticket counter was not trained or equipped to handle International Travel or Uncle J. He let her have it. I watched Auntie do everything to stay true to character and contain herself- just barely. Finally, I stepped in and offered to have Uncle come to the side and call the United Premier Desk and come back to the ticket agent to fix anything else. Both Auntie J and the ticket agent were relieved. We never had to go back to the befuddled ticket agent. With my feminist daughters, if it had been me with that ?agent, the intervention would have been a lot more forceful!!

Uncle J was big until he wasn’t. His heart gave out in late 2018 and we lost him. I knew Fridays at Uncle and Auntie’s was going to be different.

Even though it was different, in many ways my time with Auntie at her apartment, though shorter was sweeter. She was always glad to see me. Now there were far fewer drop-ins other than family. Hence there was more 1-1 time. Auntie J would inquire about my wife, my daughters, their boyfriends/husbands and any impending grandkids. She would want to know about my transition into retirement. The visits were indeed sweet. As she started to lose her cognitive abilities, my visits nonetheless continued even if only for a couple of minutes. Although always gracious, I could see it took a lot of her energy to recollect and recognize me. But she always did. I lived for those moment of recognition when the furrowed brow turned into her warm smile. One of my greatest joys over the last two years was introducing my grandson J to Auntie J. She knew who J was! That same flash of recognition was there one more time, a few days before her death. My wife and I were at her bedside holding her hand and telling Auntie J we loved her. Coming to the recognition of who we were and talking to us in English, her third language after her native Sindhi and then Hindi, she said in a warm but weary voice, “Please, just let me go.” She died a couple of days later.

Uncle and Auntie J were like my parents. Even in their passing, there was a strange, inverted symmetry to my parents. My demure, retiring mother went first but went quickly. My outgoing father over years slowly saw his world close in before he too passed. It was the opposite with the outgoing Uncle J. He went quickly. Auntie deteriorated over years but always kept her grace and dignity.

I started by saying Uncle and Auntie J touched my life. They went beyond that. Uncle J was a big soul. Auntie J was a gentle soul. They touched my soul.

Jake