In 2016, I was in a crucial decision making phase and I happened to share it with a friend.
She suggested that I meet someone she knows, who probably can sympathies with my situation.
Later she shared her contact that night. It was only two letters, TS. In a hurry and in the midst of the chaos I was in, without even knowing who this person was I vented out the situation to her. She also patiently listened to the entire story and gave me a consoling reply. But I still didn’t know her name or who she was.
A few weeks later a colleague of mine was talking about a book clean up drive in one of the oldest libraries of Chennai, the Madras Literary Society. I happened to join the event and while we were about to leave, a voice from across the library called out to my colleague. The voice came closer to us with an ever smiling face and the colleague introduced her to me. She gave me a smile and asked if I was the one who messaged her last week. TS. Thirupurasundari Sevvel.
She said she has to leave in a hurry as she has to assist someone in travelling. And she insisted that we meet him and introduced us to him. A handsome, charming, well groomed man probably over 75 years. He felt my hands and asked
‘Unga paer enna thambi?’ ( What’s your name brother?). Little did I know then these few seconds of interaction will change the course of my life.
Mano uncle..
From then on I have met him and interacted with him during various occasions.
There was a children’s fest hosted in 2017 by Thumbi, probably the first time people from Cuckoo had interacted with him. Later this led to cuckoo conversations where Mano uncle had come and blessed the people and the land of Cuckoo with his presence. He had also visited Thinnai palli and shared a few stories with the children. Later when we were driving back we stopped for chai with boulders of Gingee as the backdrop. Uncle recollected his memories of the hill and the sketches he had made. His sense of memory was a very sharp one. He vividly remembered the details in all the sketches that he had made and could recollect precisely at any point of time.
As we kept moving towards Chennai, the car was filled with uncle’s memories of Mahima aunty. After a brief silence uncle asked ‘ Seri… Naan oru paattu paada vaa?’ (okay shall i sing a song?) We all got excited thinking he would sing some old cine song.. Or a song from the church. But what he sang left us in tears. And in silence for the rest of the journey.. a song that he had written about his love for Mahima aunty.
Un ninaivaal vaazhgiren… Mahimaaa…
We have never met Mahema aunty, but from knowing of her through Mano uncle makes her so familiar that it is almost as if we are the ones ‘In love’ with her. One of our very cherished memories with him is from when we met at his residence, a few months later. There were 18 of us in his presence and he was singing the ‘mahima’ song again to us. It was in the beginning of one of the paragraphs that we continued to sing while he had to pause to a sudden brief cough; his face brightened as he rejoiced at the continuum of the song in remembrance of our beloved Mahe aunty. It is beautiful how in knowing and loving Mano uncle all of us have subtly fallen in love with Mahema too.
A few months later Cuckoo had organised an exhibition along with Aathirai on children’s art work in the 1000 pillar hall in Kanchipuram. Mano uncle was invited as the chief guest. The sounds of the drums, the screaming of more than a 1000 children along with their claps and the speech of Cuckoo Sivaraj anna marked the arrival of Mano uncle,who was elegantly clad in a white dhoti and brown kurta. Days rolled by and our bonding with Mano uncle kept growing stronger without us realising.
‘There was only one bathroom and I didn’t want to be a hindrance to anyone. so i got up early.’ said uncle who was the first person to be ready for our wedding at 2:30 am. Architect and artist Ajit Rao who had shared the room with uncle was very surprised on how organised his suitcase was, as the man himself. As he reached the venue, he slowly got down 75 steps to the bottom of a large step well in Ammapally on the outskirts of Hyderabad. After an invocation song, on request of Sivaraj anna uncle started the wedding ceremony with three stories from the Bible that was close to his heart; his narration drew parallels between the two faiths, then gradually drew us into a story of Sakthi and Shiva; very aptly as the sacred fire for tying the knot was set up in the small mandapam of the Shiva temple, where the jyothi has been kept to continuously be lit from more than 6 centuries. The priest who preceded over the rituals also explained them in telugu and english which enabled uncle to draw a picture of the happenings. He enjoyed our wedding thoroughly and it became an event very close to his heart.
In the course of the next few years, there were a lot of interactions with different people, especially young college students. Uncle was always open and welcoming to everyone. He always had something positive to share about the person he has met. He always had different people from varying backgrounds and age groups constantly giving him company. He was also invited to different institutions as a chief guest and a speaker. He very fondly agreed to most of them irrespective of his other commitments. He always prioritised sharing his life stories with youngsters.
He was very fond of Cuckoo Sivaraj. Despite his age uncle used to address Sivaraj as anna, like how most of us do. Amongst the many memorable interactions with him in his house, one of the most moving was the one for Sillu karupatti, meeting with director Halitha Shameem and her team. Probably that was the largest number of people his house had seen.
It was the dream of Sivaraj anna to make it happen. Later, this lead to thirst to make a documentary on life of Mano uncle, which manifested as ‘ Suyakalviyai Thedi’.
To the best of our knowledge, the number of interactions that uncle had was definitely possible only because of support from Thirupurasundari Sevvel. She was more of a daughter and uncle would blindly count on her for all his needs. The efforts that Sundari had taken to make everyday of uncle’s count is similar to the roots working invisible below the ground. While the world knows uncle as Padmashree Manohar Devdoss little do we know about the efforts that Sundari had put in to make the dream come true starting right from filing the nomination for the awardee. When Sundari informed uncle that he had been nominated for the padmashree, the first question he asked was ‘endha photo ma kudutha?’ (which photo did you give?) and sundari had rightly given the photo that uncle was always fond of. Sundari has definitely been the backbone of all the activities of uncle silently never prioritising herself or claiming recognition for her efforts, in the last 6 years that we have known.
He always had the zeal of learning and sharing what he has learnt. The last one was his carnatic music classes which he prioritised and attended regularly. The last two students of uncle, who were fortunate enough to learn from him, were Arunima and Aathirai.
In words of Arunima…
‘We used to wait for Wednesday evenings. Greeting off the college bus (we were professors), having pani puri from the family run store opposite Rosary Matriculation School, then going to the corner house at the edge of the street to meet Mano Uncle was a practice before the pandemic. “Mano Peripaa…!!” Aathirai would shout in her low voice as he hugged her; after exchanging hugs we would sit down across the table in his room and begin.
These were weekly classes, to discuss together uncle’s book “From an Artist’s PERSPECTIVE”. It used to be an unusual experience to read a book to its author and then be a part of a dialogue with a reader’s questions, an author’s response enriched by behind the scene stories that uncle articulated. We have recordings of these sessions across different mediums ( that we are yet to put together ), but the memories of them are profound. Some of my favourite memories are of stories of how Mahe Mano that were often shared; of the tea and snacks that were prepared with his own recipes, of how an artist who went on to get awarded the Padma Shri was so humble to share about his accidental discoveries while drawing, to share with utmost honesty the challenges he encountered while figuring out a particular perspective and how he overcame them; once it so happened that to one of our queries, his face lit up and he said that he never thought of that point earlier and how he would have loved to explore it.
Both Aathitrai and I were delighted by the thought of how we were able to perceive the perspective classes and while we were still dwelled in the question, the following week uncle came up with a mind boggling solution – a process that he made us physically do but one that that he already achieved in his mind’s eye. Uncle’s fondness for perspective art and his persistence in resolving challenges have been a true inspiration that a teacher could teach his students, not only by saying but by means of demonstration. I was expecting my first child at the time of these sessions. Uncle and I would often wonder how much the baby is listening to. We completed thirteen chapters and for the last fourteenth one, we planned it in the coming month. I was telling uncle how the baby is out in the world to be part of the classes in person and he smiled as he was looking forward to it.
Probably the last wedding that Mano uncle attended was of Aathirai and Nakeran. Aathirai would fondly call him as periyappa (paternal uncle). Uncle had clearly insisted her on not coming home and inviting him all the way from Thanjavur and that he would definitely be present for the reception. On the day of the reception on the arrival of uncle he as usual was flocked by people all around. A few days later he had met with a group of youngsters from cuckoo who were joining a course in animation offered by Igene; this was probably the last meeting that they had at his home with youngsters.
On the early morning of Dec 07th there was a call from Sundari. Few friends from Cuckoo who were in Chennai were able to see uncle before he was shifted to the mortuary. The next few hours and days went in recollecting ‘how blessed we are’ to have known and lived in a period that he did. On Dec 9th as uncle was brought back home, he looked handsome and charming, dressed formally in a suit. The day saw a lot of varied people from different age groups, occupations which showed how diverse uncle was. There were varied stories that kept echoing in the house about how inspirational the role of uncle was in everyone’s life.
Amongst the many people who had come to visit uncle and pay their homage the loudest of a whining cry was from a helper lady who had assisted him in his last days. She probably was the one who saw, who knew and witnessed what uncle wished for. Later during the funeral procession in the church Sundari reaffirmed the same that uncle already knew what was coming and he chose to leave peacefully. Many years ago when Mahima aunty was cremated he had designed her tombstone. Uncle had clearly stated everything that he wanted to be done after his demise. He had designed his own demise and after. Amongst the people with uncle on the 9th were a newborn and two toddlers. Kairav, kept asking for uncle to wake up and play his harmonica; a memory that uncle was effortlessly able to etch in the mind of a two year old. He accompanied uncle to the cremation where he shared that mano thata has gone to Jesus’s home.
A few months ago due to the lack of burial spaces in the city the church had rewritten its rule books to accept cremation of members of the church. But this uncle foresaw many years ago, when Mahima aunty passed away. There lies a cross on top of the grave with a hole in the middle, probably the only one in the world. His wish was that he lies close to the heart of Mahima aunty through his ashes too. As per his wish he was cremated and he became one with Mahima. Apart from many books and illustrations that he would live through, his life was a message and a blessing for generations to come.
“You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backward. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future.” – Steve Jobs
– Arunima & Kaushik
Akarmaa