Today is 01 Mar and it is my grandfather’s 101st birthday. Various programmes have been organized at the major cities of Kerala – Thiruvananthapuram, Kochi and Kozhikode to commemorate the end of the yearlong centenary celebrations and take stock of a slew of projects, undertaken during the period, by the Foundation named after him. The main programme is at the ‘Kanakakkunnu Palace’ at Thiruvananthapuram, where political leaders, covering the entire spectrum, will deliver the PN Panicker memorial lecture and the house in which he was born and spent his childhood – ‘Puthuvayil House’ in a sleepy hamlet at Neelamperoor, Kottayam – will be dedicated to the nation. The legend that he is – the father of the Kerala Library Movement(started with a loose conglomeration of 47 rural libraries, spread in and around the present day southern districts of Thiruvananthapuram, Kollam and southern part of Alappuzha districts, in 1945 and by the time the movement was celebrating its silver jubilee in 1970, he’d set up a strong and vibrant network of 5,282 libraries spread across the entire state, which had become a powerful tool in providing the social and cultural emancipation of the people) and the architect of Kerala attaining 100% literacy, in 1994(in ’70, on realizing that his libraries were of no use to millions of illiterate malayalees - who had either never gone to school or were school dropouts at a very early stage- he took up the task of educating them through his ‘functional literacy programme’) - his place in Kerala’s history is assured. Be that as it may, I’d like to concentrate my thoughts on PN Panicker, my grandfather(Muthachan, as I call him), a simple man who did not hanker for power or pelf and did not possess a house of his own, till his very end.
I think our relationship started moments before my birth! My mother had a difficult time on the delivery table and the doctor told the Panickers that only one of us would survive, to which my grandfather seemed to have retorted that he was only interested in his daughter surviving the ordeal. And when everything ended well, he took personal interest in everything that I did – from my ‘annaprashna’ to my schooling and beyond- to remove that feeling of guilt, as he opened up to me years later. He used to call me by a pet name, ‘Mone’(pronounced as 'mo' in 'more' and 'ne' in 'nest' and the literal translation meaning ‘a dear son’) and did not bother to remember my actual name, which landed him in very comical situations. I must narrate an incident that happened in school when I was in class IX and even to this day used, by my masters and classmates at Sainik School, to pull my leg. It was just after evening games, when the Tagore house team that I was a member of, was thrashed in the football finals and we’re being talked to by our coach, when somebody came running to say that a gentleman, in a state car(the one with a red number plate and two numerals depicting its serial) had been waiting to meet his son –whose name he didn’t know- for almost an hour and did anybody know as to who that student was. I rushed to the spot to see the familiar figure of my Muthachan in spotless white khadi, much to my pleasant surprise. He was both angry and glad to see me, a decision that he’d taken at the spur of the moment, as he was going on a long tour to Kannur and hence, the visit without any advance information! And after the incident, he used to carry a slip of paper with my name written on it!!
I’ve had the privilege of meeting and interacting with eminent people drawn from all walks of society, even to this day, thanks to being my grandfather’s grandson. He always used to stress on education through interaction with a wide cross section of people – he derived his strength and zest to live, from it.
He was very fond of my grandmother(Ammachi, as I call her) but never showed it. In fact, we’re privy to some intense fights between them, so much so, that after one such incident, she’d left our home in the wee hours of a morning to one of her daughters(in fact, at such times, I’d wholeheartedly support Ammachi and he used to be rather amused by it). Ammachi’s death in Jul ’91 was a jolt for him and as I reckon, he never recovered from that pain till his end on 19 Jun ’95. They were really made for each other. Six months before his end, Muthachan had come to Delhi to attend a felicitation function and stayed with Lekha and me, for a week. Those were some of the happiest days in my life and there were occasions when we’d a one-to-one conversation on a number of things – an education that I could not have got from any institution in the world. Muthachan, may the light of knowledge, that you’ve kindled in Kerala, shine on to eternity. Your slogan, “Read and grow, Think and achieve wisdom” shall always remain an inspiration for generations to come!
"MY GRANDFATHER BESTEST".
I think our relationship started moments before my birth! My mother had a difficult time on the delivery table and the doctor told the Panickers that only one of us would survive, to which my grandfather seemed to have retorted that he was only interested in his daughter surviving the ordeal. And when everything ended well, he took personal interest in everything that I did – from my ‘annaprashna’ to my schooling and beyond- to remove that feeling of guilt, as he opened up to me years later. He used to call me by a pet name, ‘Mone’(pronounced as 'mo' in 'more' and 'ne' in 'nest' and the literal translation meaning ‘a dear son’) and did not bother to remember my actual name, which landed him in very comical situations. I must narrate an incident that happened in school when I was in class IX and even to this day used, by my masters and classmates at Sainik School, to pull my leg. It was just after evening games, when the Tagore house team that I was a member of, was thrashed in the football finals and we’re being talked to by our coach, when somebody came running to say that a gentleman, in a state car(the one with a red number plate and two numerals depicting its serial) had been waiting to meet his son –whose name he didn’t know- for almost an hour and did anybody know as to who that student was. I rushed to the spot to see the familiar figure of my Muthachan in spotless white khadi, much to my pleasant surprise. He was both angry and glad to see me, a decision that he’d taken at the spur of the moment, as he was going on a long tour to Kannur and hence, the visit without any advance information! And after the incident, he used to carry a slip of paper with my name written on it!!
I’ve had the privilege of meeting and interacting with eminent people drawn from all walks of society, even to this day, thanks to being my grandfather’s grandson. He always used to stress on education through interaction with a wide cross section of people – he derived his strength and zest to live, from it.
He was very fond of my grandmother(Ammachi, as I call her) but never showed it. In fact, we’re privy to some intense fights between them, so much so, that after one such incident, she’d left our home in the wee hours of a morning to one of her daughters(in fact, at such times, I’d wholeheartedly support Ammachi and he used to be rather amused by it). Ammachi’s death in Jul ’91 was a jolt for him and as I reckon, he never recovered from that pain till his end on 19 Jun ’95. They were really made for each other. Six months before his end, Muthachan had come to Delhi to attend a felicitation function and stayed with Lekha and me, for a week. Those were some of the happiest days in my life and there were occasions when we’d a one-to-one conversation on a number of things – an education that I could not have got from any institution in the world. Muthachan, may the light of knowledge, that you’ve kindled in Kerala, shine on to eternity. Your slogan, “Read and grow, Think and achieve wisdom” shall always remain an inspiration for generations to come!
"MY GRANDFATHER BESTEST".
great thoughts.. I do remember him visiting us in the kanfed van and always bring some brouchers or posters contains the importance of education I called him muthassa . He was my great grandfather's only brother and people used to call him ' Kochu Sir".
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