Osborne Charles Moreira
I'm sure these words must have echoed in my father's mind,on that special Christmas eve, "The happiest moment of my life was probably when my daughter was born," David Duchovny.
I was born on Christmas Eve,while the paper star was being put up at dusk at our home,as the youngest daughter to my parents in Nairobi, Kenya. We were five girls and two boys.
And,"I love being a girl because I'm Daddy's little girl and that rocks!" Author Unknown
Daddy's little girl
Being the youngest, I was treated as my father's princess not because he was a prince but because he was my King.
Wearing my favourite velvet dress with colourful beads shaped as butterflies,carried by my First Love.
As I go back in time, to those precious moments that I can remember, spent with my Dad who is my First Hero and my First Love,I'm reminded of these words...........
"There's something like a line of gold thread running through a man's words when he talks to his daughter and gradually over the years it gets to be long enough for you to pick up in your hands and weave into a cloth that feels like love itself." John Gregory Brown.
As I pick up that cloth so many instances come flashing back into my mind of my father's love. Since I was his pet, my siblings refrained from teasing me when he was around but they took the opportunity, when he was at office to bully me. I was very clever and knew how to retaliate. In the evening,on his return from office with my Mum,the minute I heard his car at the drive way,I would start bawling my head off and run into his arms, as he entered.Then, when he enquired I would tell him how they bullied me and they would get a severe scolding.This didn't deter them and still they continued their bulling, till I was left with no choice but to fabricate the truth till they got a good thrashing.
He was a strict disciplinarian,a man who would lose his temper at any form of misconduct and speak his mind, if anything went amiss.My siblings were really afraid of him.I had a way with him and don't ever remember him getting angry with me. He never minced his words in speaking out the truth.
My daddy bought me, every single toy that he felt I would cherish, eventhough I never demanded anything.My rocking horse,so precious to me,I parted without hesitation when we were leaving Kenya because I listened to his advice.He bought me a doll pram, in which I could actually take my dolls along, when I went for a stroll in the compound. Then a small cooking range, fridge and utensils for me to play house. That's why one of my cousins who would join me to play house, nicknamed me, 'Toys Baba'.
I still remember with love, some of the several birthday gifts that he showered on me. On one occasion, he gifted me a brown hair band with white stones,to keep my hair in place and I always thought those white stones were diamonds. On another birthday,he bought me 24 big slabs of Cadburys chocolates.He too had a sweet tooth like me. I shared it with the whole family,not wanting to eat it all by myself.As I grew bigger, he would give me money to go and buy the saree of my choice. When I fell in love, I would cringe and buy a cheaper saree so that I could buy my love, a shirt piece from that money as a Christmas gift, since readymade shirts were not available at that time.
I enjoyed my Sunday car rides to the Nairobi market with my dad and for that I wore a special market dress. There he would do the purchases,like meat products and vegetables for the whole week. He would then come home and prepare a delicious Sunday meal for us which we always relished.
Wearing my favourite market dress with my two elder siblings.
I remember so well, how he used to treat my mother like a queen.He used to help with the chores, by giving us a bath,putting on our pyjamas and tucking us into bed. He even bought her the most expensive birthday gifts, five necklaces she had over the years which she gifted later to her five daughters.I remember one birthday so clearly,Mummy had gone to church and before she arrived, he put up a wooden pendulum wall clock which chimed,to surprise her as she entered.He even bought her an expensive Bavarian antique porcelain golden tea set, for one of her birthdays. She was so lucky to have him in her life because he adored her, I often wished I would get a hero like him in my life.
I would definitely join in with the words of Hedy Lamarr, in saying," I am not ashamed to say that no man I ever met was my father's equal and I never loved any other man as much."
Suddenly, my maternal grandfather took very ill and therefore my dad sent my mother by plane, to India to visit him and take care of him.At that time, he single-handedly took great care of all of us. When it was my eldest sister, Leta's birthday,he organised a little tea party with a surprise birthday cake for her and wrote a speech out, for one of the elder siblings to read.In that it said ,how much we missed our Mummy and wished she were present with us.
I must admit, he was a fantastic cook as well,his mutton cutlets,beef tongue curry, his wheat parottas and his fruit salad just to name a few. Wow! that taste still lingers in my mouth. His chicken roast and 'puli sauce'(tamarind sauce) still makes my mouth water Perhaps, I have inherited his culinary skills.
Sankaran Kutty Kunjiraman Pottekatt, popularly known as S K Pottekatt, was an Indian writer of Malayalam literature and a politician from Kerala. He travelled abroad for the first time through Tanga,Kenya and Uganda in 1948. He has mentioned in his African travel notes published book 'Simhabhoomi' (meaning the land of Lions) how he visited our house in Easteligh,Nairobi.He states clearly that he was entertained by my father and mother and had a meal at our place and that my father was an excellent host.
My father worked for the Public Works Department,Kenya which at that time was under the British rule.He used to narrate stories of the wild and free Kenya of the 1930s and how their road works brought them in contact with the wild, especially elephants and lions.He narrated some very intriguing stories of his life, sleeping in tents while road/rail works were going on.He even told us about a true incident that took place at Tsavo in 1898, when John Henry Patterson was overseeing the construction of a rail road bridge and the Tsavo man eaters,duo lions killed and ate his construction workers. Eventually, Anderson was forced to shoot them dead. My Daddy's love for the wild made him take us, years later, to see 'Hatari' and 'Born Free,' both wild life movies shot in Kenya.
My dad at work in the wildHe was an animal lover,which is clearly evident in the photo below, where he had dogs and trained a monkey.The monkey was so naughty that it often took a cigarette and put it in its mouth.He told us with tears in his eyes, how he let his pet monkey into the wild because my eldest sister as a baby had developed an allergy to monkeys. As he bid goodbye to the monkey, it refused to go and clung onto his leg but eventhough, it broke his heart to let it go, he had no other choice.
My daddy with his pet dogs, monkey and a friendHe loved both fauna and flora. He was very fond of plants and had a good collection of plants in our Eastleigh home.I remember as a child, we liked eating those pink flowers of the begonias .He had a rock garden in the front and in the back verandah, several potted plants. There was a big jamun tree in the backyard which used to give us baskets full of jamuns popularly known as Malabar plums.My elder siblings used to climb and pluck the jamuns and distribute it to the neighbours.My husband and I got to visit our house when we were in Nairobi and the owners,now Kenyans, told us the jamun tree was cut down, just a week prior to our visit.I was sad to hear that because that tree held so many beautiful memories.
The rock garden in the front of our house The numerous potted plants in the back verandah My daddy retired from service in1960.He was given a grand farewell by the PWD and presented with a Rolex watch for his services.
Presentation of the Rolex watch
Farewell group photo:my dad seated second from right After my father's retirement,we moved to India for good.I had the opportunity to sail in S. S Amra, an 'A' class ship that sailed across the Indian Ocean, from Africa to South Asia. We boarded the ship from Mombasa port in second class,which provided cabins.The first class, being reserved only for the whites. The windows were oval in shape and through them you could see the vast ocean, which as days progressed became a boring sight. The eight days on the ship were memorable and exciting.There were lots of kids,though older, for company. Even the captain who was British, had his daughter join us because she was lonely. Early morning, we all walked in a race round the deck.As eight times round the deck was one mile. The whole experience on the ship was a novel one. We ate at a huge dinning hall with the plates all laid out in style.It was a very formal experience where we were served by waiters. My dad had to teach me how to eat with fork and knife. Some days, the band played on the deck,while on other days both Hindi and English movies were shown on the open deck, with a make shift screen and loud speakers.I couldn't understand the dialogues of the Hindi movies but enjoyed the scenes. I enjoyed all the English movies.During the day some sat on deck chairs,enjoying reading a book, while others played board games. At night,some would revel under the stars making their own music and singing. There was a ball room reserved for the whites but we got to see a glimpse of their ball room dancing,thanks to the captain's daughter. We enjoyed a good social life, meeting people from different cultures who spoke different languages. We sometimes, faced huge tidal waves that rocked the ship.My mother was so sea sick that she spent all her time in her cabin. Finally, the ship docked in Bombay and we parted ways bidding goodbye to our fellow passengers. Years later, when I saw the Titanic movie I was reminded of my ship journey but the only difference being, the Titanic was a Luxury passenger liner.
Moving around in Bombay, I was not at all impressed,as it was a very crowded city and not very clean. We stayed for a few days in Bombay and as I was so obsessed with sandals, my father bought me a very pretty Indian pair,which had golden and colourful threads. I used to be so crazy as a child about sandals and would judge a person by the sandals they wore.
We boarded the train at Victoria Terminus and it took us three days to reach our hometown,Trivandrum,Kerala. The train would stop at certain stations and we were provided meals in halls and could take a bath in the refreshment rooms provided. When we arrived in Trivandrum a beautiful green city,we stayed with my paternal grandfather at Pettah. We moved to our own house,which was inherited by my dad from his father, in Tutors Lane, Statue Road.
Our house was named, 'Palmrouge' because my father planted 'red palms' near the verandah. He had painted the walls and gate light green and the borders of both the wall and gate red,to match the palms.I used to help him paint. His love for plants made him create a beautiful garden with different coloured crotons,ferns, begonias and shoe flowers and other flowering plants. We had several fruit trees like rose apple tree right in the front, different types of mango trees both at the front and back, chikku-sapote,papaya,guavas,'love loves' and grapefruit.He had green fingers and his love for plants knew no bounds.I'm so glad, I inherited that trait as I have a small garden in the corridor of my flat.
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A view from our verandha of the gate and wall,light green wall and red border(not colour). Our house with the rose apple tree in the front
'Palmrouge' with its famous red palms While at my grandfather's place in Pettah, I used to go with my father for walks and take my dolls in the pram.My first impression of Kerala was that people would just stare,which I greatly detested. Another thing, which I didn't like was all familiar people we met on the road, instead of greeting would ask,("Evidey ponu?") "Where are you going?" As a child I felt that was the most inquisitive question to be asked.With time, thankfully that has changed.
We girls, got admission to the Holy Angels Convent School.I was a very quiet and obedient student that I never gave my parents a reason to be summoned to the Headmistress' office. There was one incident which happened,where I didn't want my father to spend unecessarily on me.I was selected to take part in a dance by my class teacher, Sr.Olive,who wanted me to pay for the costume .So I lied to Sister saying,"We are rather poor!".But my lie was brought to light ,when Sr.Olive sent word through my elder sister, to ask my father to come and meet her. She told him what I had said and my father a bit embarassed made the payment, knowing fully well why I said so.
My daddy," saw me at my worst but for him I was always the best".I remember at school, I was weak in Maths,my mother would teach me Maths, but nothing would register and she always scolded me and put me down comparing me with my elder sister. So, whenever, I failed in my Maths test papers,I would wait for my mother to go to bed, before I approached my father to put his signature on the test paper. We always kept our little secret! Later for my tenth boards,I was given special coaching and for that Examination I scored Eighty one percent in Maths which was a very high score for our times and I made him proud by securing a First Class for SSLC. A great lesson that I learnt from him was to value myself.
"My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person,he believed in me," Jim Valvano
My father was very strict with my sibblings and they had to reach home early and couldn't visit their friends freely.I remember, if my sisters had to visit their friends,I had to accompany them.Once my elder sister had to attend her friend's wedding in Tirur and I had to accompany her by bus. We had to stay over night there,and it was so boring for me because I couldn't fit in the company of her friends. Whereas, I was allowed to go for sleepovers to my friend Lat's place.
I became a member of the Toast Master's club,YMCA so as to develop my oratory skills.Later, I became the founder Secretary of the Uni -Y (YMCA) and took part in various functions like, Model Lok Sabha and Model UN.Our practices and functions would get over very late and the boys would drop us home.My father, never once objected to it and I saw to it that he got familiar with all my friends. I went to both Alwaye for a National conference of the Uni Y and again to Hyderabad with my father's permission. He wanted me to excel in my extracurricular activities as I was never good at sports like my sisters.
I was a member of the USIS,(United States Information Service)which then served as a library and was of big help to collect data when we took part in the Model UN.The American Cultural Centre,situated where Hotel South Park stands today, was a place where we would gather to watch movies and take part in other activities.It served as a centre to the western world and broadened our minds.We were even able to see a sample of the moon rock. The Director of the American Cultural Centre had a bungalow situated close to Raj Bhavan,an old bungalow with a spacious lawn. We were often entertained to high tea there by the then Director,Mr Karl Brauchman. We often got a taste of 'Coke', which was difficult to get in India at that time,as we could only settle for 'Torino'. He was later suceeded by Tom O'Connor who sang and played the guitar to country and western songs. He was quite a heart throb and looked like Gregory Peck.He was here only for a short period as the USIS soon wound up its office in Kerala. After attending all these functions, I used to be dropped by my friends and my dad never admonished me because he had full trust in me and was confident that I would never go astray.
His life of integrity and values, surely set a positive example in me and greatly helped me in later years, to face the world. He was once cheated by a lady who borrowed money from him.That lady returned the money in a hurry and went, but when he counted the money it was less and later when confronted ,she would not own upto it. So he told me that whenever you lend or either borrow money,even if it is someone close to you, don't hesitate to count the money right infront of them,inorder to avoid any further misunderstandings.
My father would go out of his way to help others.He helped his widowed sisters, to find suitors for their daughters and even helped to conduct their weddings.He even helped the down -trodden.He brought up and educated a young girl Betty, who was distantly related to my mother.Since she was not good at her studies,he later got her married to a man who lived near my sister's house in Alleppey. He gave her gold ornaments,pocket money and even bought her a sewing machine, so that she could stitch and earn a living.Maybe, that quality of my helping Pamela, in Kenya came from him.He joined the Vincent de Paul society so he could help the needy.Every Saturday, our home was dedicated to serve the beggars,who would come in large numbers to receive alms. When he died they mourned saying that their 'Raja',was no more.
After all my sisters got married and left, the bedroom now solely belonged to me. So my father did a real make-over to the room, to my taste. He got the walls painted,one wall apple red and the rest apple green and the ceiling white with the rafters red,pretty curtains to match as well and a dressing table.
Several of my degree class mates would come home for Christmas and Daddy would serve them Christmas cake and wine that was prepared by him. My friend, Padu who had never tasted wine before, after tasting our wine became a connoisseur. He always liked to entertain my friends with good food, especially his famous beef cutlets and was a very good host. He was ready with his cup of tea to greet my friends, if they visited in the evening and Molly always got her cup of tea when she came to accompany me to St Anthony's shrine at Palayam, every Tuesday.
When I reached my post graduate course,one of the guys who was in Uni-Y,approached me with his friend asking if I could find a suitable match for him and they were gigiling. Innocent as I was, I told them I would check if I could find any suitable match for him, among my friends in college. Later, finding that I was too daft in such matters,he proposed to me.I flatly declined the offer, as I told him I cannot break my father's heart. Seeing his dejection and disappointment, I later relented to his proposal.I knew that being from two different religions,it would not be that easy to convince my father and if I agreed, I would have to go all the way through it by myself,come what may. The greatest battle in my life began--knowing in my head that I would break my father's trust at the same time feeling love in my heart for this guy, Kesavan.
Since, we knew that both our families would not agree,we decided to put our wedding plans on hold, first familarise ourselves with them and secure a job.So I became a regular visitor to his house and he visited my house often. Both the parents grew fond of us and we sort of became part of their families but that didn't mean that they would agree, as inter- caste marriages were a real taboo.My father the usual host,though a teatotaller, on my twenty first birthday threw a party for my friends. He served Kesavan foreign whiskey,which he drank for the first time,while the others were served wine.It was followed by dinner with a grand platter,served to all my friends.
This decision of marrying against my father's wishes, weighed down on my mind,I started losing weight,I felt that I had betrayed my father.To avoid any future proposals,I kept on studying, I did my BEd and then my MEd,later even registered for PhD.My father encouraged me, but in his heart of hearts, he wanted me to pursue law in UK and was willing to send me as I have very good argumentative skills.I declined the offer because I was in love but gave my father umpteen lame excuses.
My sister was getting married and knowing, fully well that I would never enjoy a grand wedding myself as I was bent on this love marriage,I saw to it that my father spent a lot on my sister's wedding. Since the boy didn't insist on dowry,my father made several gold ornaments of her choice.I even saw to it that colour film was bought(it had just come into the market and was expensive),so we got a few colourful snaps. My friends and I, decorated the Palayam church grandly, the Indian brass lamp(Nelu Vilakku borrowed from Kesavan's house) was placed for the first time at the altar and the pews were decorated with paper roses. We had a grand reception at the VJT Hall and later a four course dinner at home.To my father's disappointment,the boys parents insisted that my sister's ticket be bought.Having spent all his money on conducting this grand wedding,he had to run around to arrange for her plane fare. For which I was sorely disappointed.
With my
first hero at my sister's wedding My father also made some gold ornaments for me, along with those of my sister,which I treasure even to this day.
The multi- colour stone necklace with matching jumkas and a broad gold bangle gifted by my dad.Once I dreamt, that a saint appeared to me with a club in his hand, sporting a beard, and requested me to pray to him.I had no clue who he was but when I enquired, one of my colleagues at office, Shirley Paul, said she had the prayer and picture.So she brought it for me.It was exactly the saint I saw in my dreams.Thus began my devotion to St.Jude. My daddy made enquiries and we found a church in Killipalam devoted to St Jude with novena and mass every Thursday.My father and mother would accompany me every Thursday,for the novena in the evening after office.Till today, every Thursday I visit that church.I even named my first born sonJude,after this saint. My father saw to it that my every need was met.
My dad adored kids.Finding my cousin,Dilip sick with high fever at St Roch's boarding school,he brought him home and raised him up like his own son,till his parents returned from Kenya.All his grand kids would come to stay in Palmrouge.I remember my dad teaching his grandson,Arun to shoot with a small rifle that he bought him.He tirelessly looked after his eldest grandson,Kieran who was laid up with measles encephalitis at the tender age of seven. He would teach Lalu how to use the towel to wipe his back after he had given him a shower. Sony was only a few months old,when his mother,my sister, developed typhoid and it was daddy who took great care of him .They all adored their grand dad eventhough he was strict with them. Many of them like Vinu and Anita got their share of punishments for being mischievous.Sunil being the youngest was his pet. Ray's first birthday was conducted with grandeur at 'Palmrouge' before my sister returned with Ray to Malaysia.He only saw two of his grand daughters Anita and Elizabeth. In total he has seventeen grandkids,out of which he got to see only nine.I regret that my dad wasn't able to see my three children. But to honour my dad I have named my second son, Charles, after him.He resembles my father a lot in his looks.
Both being orthodox familes,mine Christian and his Hindu, we were sure there would be no compromise or relenting.We decided to take it to the next level, with a register marriage.I left home feeing unhappy that I would never return and the thought of having to change my dad's adoration for me to one of embarrassment and annoyance, hurt me. My heart drove me to this decision but my mind couldn't stomach it.They say the mind has no control over the heart and that is what, was exactly happening.
After our register marriage, my husband's family felt that for us to be accepted in society, they must conduct a Hindu wedding and reception at Trivandrum Hotel.They made all the arrangements and even invited my family. When the time came for me to approach the Mandapam,my father- in- law came into the green room, disappointed and told me that my parents had not come.He then added that I shouldn't worry as he would hence forth take my father's place.I bowed down on my knees and received his blessings.The function went on as planned with all their relatives and a few of my friends. Since my parents did not attend, I was disappointed. My heart felt so heavy and I literally choked with anguish that my father did not come to see me as a bride and the thought that he was still angry with me,broke my heart.
Both of us were working at the University office, so in order to go to office we took a detour,thinking my father was still angry with me. We, infact,took the long route via St Joseph's school, instead of the short cut via Tutors Lane,inorder to avoid passing my house. Later on, I came to know from my friend,Molly that my father used to stand near the gate, hoping I would go past that way,at least to catch a glimpse of me. Even today, I picture that scene in my mind and feel hurt. He would also enquire from her whether I liked the food at my in-laws place and if I had put on weight.
A month later, my family who were orthodox Catholics arranged for a church marriage, since they had to adhere to church doctrines.Also, it was mandatory for me if I wanted to continue as a Catholic.After the church wedding, we were welcomed home.I was so happy to be back home and with my Dad .He immediately brought my gold ornaments and handed it over to my husband. Actually,my husband wanted to refuse but he was advised by his friend, to accept it with both hands and not to insult an old man.Hence, my husband received it with gratitude.
Later on, my father told me with regret that he was unable to attend my marriage, although he really wanted to because he was dissuaded from coming by my elder sister who told him that if he went he would be insulted by my in-laws. I was relieved to hear that but saddened it was a missed opportunity.Later when he went to visit my father- in- law at the General Eye hospital, after his cataract operation,there he met my mother- in- law's cousin, the famous surgeon, Dr Kesavan Nair, who ran and brought a chair for my father to sit. This experience made him realise that they were very humble people and that he was ill-advised and regretted believing her.
Thus began the bond between the two families both Hindu and Christian. They blended well together. This bond was short- lived, as my father fell ill the following May. He was diagnosed with a heart block.At that time there was no proper treatment.My father was soon admitted in the hospital.When he asked for a glass of water,my husband gave him to drink and he had tears in his eyes as he drank it.He soon breathed his last. Coming from a family of doctors,I was accused by my siblings of having been the cause of his heart block,as I married against his wishes. Being doctors it is strange that they came out with such an accusation.Science has proved it otherwise.
My whole world fell apart when I lost my first hero,my first love on 30th May 1979.
My dad in his later yearsIt was this warm close relationship with my Dad that made me develop into a strong confident woman, that I am today.
As we are in lockdown now,I have found the time to go back and reminisce each day spent with my dad and have realised what an inseparable bond there was between us. That's why I have been able to put it down in words.
At this juncture, the words of Laura Jones comes to my mind,"Someday we will look back at this moment and it will forever remind us to never take the little things for granted."
"The love between a father and daughter is forever " -Unknown.
