Raising A Family...

One has to experience how life changes with the arrival of the first baby. And it is much more taxing for the mother than for the father. Our son, Rajeev, brought these changes in our lives gradually. Now as we were three in the family, we had to cater much more to the needs of the young one. We had to be home in time and relieve the nanny looking after him and take over the duties. Doing all this used to be a pleasure and gave us immense satisfaction. There were times when the nanny wouldn’t show up in the morning as we were about to leave for work and we had to take a quick decision to take him along with us. It was his godmother, Meera Rao, who stayed in the Makerere University campus, who would  take care of him as  Meenakshi was busy taking her classes in the University. Sometimes her daughter Shambhavi would be there to play with him.

As it went on, we noticed that Rajeev was picking up a bit of English to converse with the nanny or with us for his small needs. It dawned on us that he will not be able to pick his native tongue, Hindi, if we didn’t converse with him in our mother tongue. We had already seen some children of our friends who felt shy to talk in their own mother tongue and that was a great handicap. That’s how we avoided this pitfall.

Our home leave was due and we planned to travel to India in October, 1977. It was nice to be back home and meet everyone gradually during that period. Coming from the salubrious climes of Kampala, Uganda, we wanted to avoid the sultry summer months. 

Before returning to Kampala, we decided to visit Kashmir at the peak of winter season. Everyone advised against our visit because of extreme cold, and that too because we had a small child. Despite all that, we did go there for four days. It was a very good holiday for us seeing scenic places like Gulmarg and Pahalgam.

It was a strange coincidence that I met after 10 years one of my old friends and classmate in Medical College, Amritsar, Surinder Julka who was also on holiday from the UK. He was too had a like kid much like us. This encounter at the Tourist Reception Centre, Srinagar,  was unfortunately a very short one as his bus was leaving at that very moment for his destination.

Kashmir was relatively a peaceful place those days and we had enjoyed a lot in the hotel, houseboat as well as in the shikara. One must admit that we were the so called older people in the bus as most people were young couples on their honeymoon. However, the long cherished visit to Kashmir, the ‘Heaven on Earth’ was a memorable one.

Our return journey on 31 December, 1977 was rescheduled by Kenya Airways and they were kind enough to offer a free drink on New Year’s eve to usher in 1978. As we touched Nairobi in the morning, we heard a sad news that an Air India plane taking off from Bombay on New Year day for Dubai, carrying most of the labourers going to Middle East to eke out a good living, plunged into the Arabian Sea killing all the passengers. It was such a great tragedy for Air India, a great airline of that time, as well as the families of those who perished there.

We were back to our routine after our return. There was a possibility of getting an apartment on the Makerere University campus and we were very keen for that. It would save us the hassle of travelling daily for 4-5 km to our places of work. It was only during early June of 1978 that we succeeded in getting allocation of the house.

It was on June 6, 1978 that we received a telegram informing us that Meenakshi had lost her father on June 4, 1978. Such a tragic news brought gloom to all of us there. It was a great and irreparable loss.  He was in active service of All India Radio as an Editor of the Hindi news service. In fact, the news of his demise was flashed on All India Radio, external service meant for East Africa. Somehow, we missed the news, and got to know later via the telegram. A visit to India was contemplated, but was abandoned for it wouldn’t be of much use at that stage. It was also a time for us to relocate ourselves in Makerere University campus in the building, Quarry House.

It is worth mentioning here that our daughter, Neelima, a journalist, happened to be in US on a Fellowship in the University of California, Berkeley in 2010. She visited Uganda for a project. She made it a point to visit the same apartment, B-8 in Quarry House, after 30 years, and took snaps of the same furniture we used there. It had a great sentimental value for us. She saw most of the university buildings housing various departments, including that of Biochemistry where Meenakshi, had worked. 

Neelima also met Dr. Albert James Lutalo-Bosa, who was the head of Biochemistry at that time and later retired as the Vice Chancellor of Kyambogo University. In fact, the whole family was there to receive her and hosted a sumptuous dinner for her. She spent two lovely days with the family.  

Later she visited some of the hospitals where I had worked, viz., Masaka, Kapchorwa and Mulago. She met some of our old friends still there. She also went to the Gurudwara and the temple in Kampala. All those photographs are a great treasure for us.