“Some heartbreaks don’t come with loud goodbyes
They slip away silently, leaving you to carry the weight alone“‘
These words were on the inside cover page of a new book “In the Silence You Left Behind”. I picked up this book yesterday on my way back from Kochi. The subtext of the book was eye-catching – Written for the hearts that break in quiet. To me, these words came as a healing touch, as in the first half of the day I had bid adieu to one of my all-time favorite uncles “Karnavar,” who suffered a cardiac arrest on Friday around 10 AM. Karnavar traditionally means the eldest male head of a family in matrilineal (Marumakkathayam) societies in Kerala, where the senior-most maternal uncle is considered the head of the matrilineal joint families and is called a Karnavar.
Throughout my life, I have seen my uncle becoming a ‘man for all occasions from an occasional man‘ . Growing up, we used to be excited to know that he was coming to our house. He would arrive in a ‘coat and suit’ from Kuwait, distributing clothes to all of us. I cherished those prized possessions, and the next day, it was time to show off in front of my neighborhood friends. My association with him deepened when he became my local guardian during my engineering days. He would occasionally visit my hostel to check on me. The sight of him walking with his long umbrella was something to behold. He was always the last man to eat during occasions, making sure that guests were well taken care of. Feedback was often delivered with a lot of punch to the kitchen staff whenever something was amiss. He was straightforward, calling a spade a spade, and we would set expectations accordingly with others.
In the early 2000s, I had the opportunity to travel with him to Shirdi from Mumbai. Our bus got stuck in the serpentine queues in the Ghat during the evening, with a bit of rain falling. Like a good Samaritan, he got out of the bus, wrapped a “thorthu” (handy cotton towel) around his head, and began managing traffic for a while.
In all our conversations, he would always end with wishes for the entire family. His signature parting statement was, “Please pass on my love to your daughters and wife.” Whenever I was in my hometown and he happened to be there, I made sure to follow his standing orders, as by then I knew him too well. I would get some non-veg food from his favorite restaurants and take him to meet some of his relatives, where they would reminisce about old stories. I have heard many hero-worshipping tales about him and have often wondered why he was called the “Karanavar.” Those retro vibes he brought into my life are something I am gratefully indebted to him for, especially for being there for my mother through thick and thin. He often mentioned that I should attend all occasions to meet many family members. I felt the same yesterday while attending his funeral. I met people I hadn’t seen in a long time, and everyone had numerous stories about him.
He was a formidable individual who was a stickler for rituals. For the near and dear ones in our family he was a guiding light. A gentleman par excellence. I believe a peaceful death is attainable only if you have done good in life. His sudden leaving is a testament. It seems he mentioned to his son in law that he has achieved everything in life and he is ready to leave. That state of mind is only possible when you have lived your life to the full. His legacy lives on in the lives he has touched and my family owes him deep respect. I was soaking in those memories in the to and fro flight. I was happy that he had the opportunity to travel to my home town and he could meet a lot of our relatives including staying with my mother for couple of days.
I felt fortunate to be one of the six people to carry his body for the final rites. It was a day of deep sadness but also a celebration of a life well lived. There is a place in between heartbreak and healing and that is when I decided to celebrate today with my family sharing all those anecdotes which made him a karanavar.
This is a tribute to a super karnavar who made peace with love, caring and attention and led a fulfilled life. In the words of his son – in – law , “He lived on his terms and died on his terms”.
Om Shanti and good bye Karnavar
Very well expressed Vinod…indeed He was a Karanavar who always had an Aura around him which made everyone who met him to greet him with folded hands and lot of respect🙏🙏may maaman’s soul seek Moksham at Vishnu Paadam🙏🙏
Superbly well written VInod. You brought out the essence of what the ‘karanavar’ was all about. Only a person who has interacted closely with him and who holds him in high esteem could have written such a poignant memoir. We all would miss the “karanavar” so so much !!!