"Hello,
Jwala! How are you?"
That is
how many politicians and ministers, not the present generation, greet me
whenever they see me. There was a time when Jwala and I were inseparable. One
quality I admire in him is his openness. He never hesitates to say that I
introduced him to many of his friends in journalism and politics. To be fair, I
should admit that he stood by me during many difficult phases of my life. Yet I
have never said so publicly. That is his nature. This is mine.
I do not
believe gratitude exists only in words. People can express it in many different
ways. That has always been my philosophy.
Both of
us were born under the zodiac sign Leo. Those who believe in astrology often
say that a little pride comes naturally to people like us.
I retired
from Doordarshan on December 31, 2005. Ironically, the same day I received a
one year extension. I did not complete that term. Instead, I left midway to
join the rural health initiative 104 Services, founded by B. Ramalinga Raju, as
its Media Advisor. Alongside that, I continued appearing in daily television
discussions. Life moved on so smoothly that I never truly felt retired.
Everything
changed in 2019 when my wife, Nirmala, passed away unexpectedly. My other
engagements gradually faded. Only then did my real retirement begin.
Unfortunately,
I had no idea how to live a retired life. Mentally, I struggled a great deal.
If I must describe it honestly, I was merely getting through each day.
But
enough about me.
Let me
tell you about my childhood friend Vanam
Jwala Narasimha Rao.
Whether
he was Krishna and I was Arjuna, or the other way around, no one could say. Our
mutual friend D. Venkataramaiah always called us "Krishna and
Arjuna."
Our
senior journalist friend B. S. Ramakrishna’s elder brother and a close family friend, we affectionately
called Krishna jokingly referred to us as husband and wife.
"You
quarrel for a while and then become friends again the next moment," he
would laugh.
Jwala and
I studied together in school. Or perhaps I should say I studied with him. Years later, he became my
niece Vijayalakshmi's husband.
Through
sheer determination, he climbed steadily in life. He rose high, fell hard, then
climbed even higher.
He has
worked in almost every kind of job imaginable. He began at the BHEL Higher
Secondary School and eventually became the Chief Public Relations Officer to
the first Chief Minister of Telangana,
KCR. Every step took him higher.
During
that journey, he lived in countless rented houses. In that respect, we share
something in common. Although I did not move as often as he did, I too changed
many rented houses during my years in Hyderabad.
For more
than three decades, I worked almost entirely for one organization in Hyderabad,
All India Radio. Toward the end of my career, I spent a short and rather
reluctant stint at Doordarshan. Between those years, I also worked for Radio
Moscow in Moscow for five years.
Jwala's
career followed an entirely different path.
He held
numerous jobs of every variety. Some belonged to the government. Others did
not. Retirement never really found a place in his life. Whenever one job ended,
another soon followed. His life moved seamlessly from one assignment to the
next.
Eventually,
even Jwala retired.
At least
officially.
He
refuses to admit it.
"No
retirement" remains his lifelong policy.
Only one
or two years separate us in age.
There was
a time when we shared the same opinions and walked the same path. After my
wife's death, however, my world changed completely.
Loneliness
became my companion.
Health
problems that had never troubled me before began to appear. Then came
unbearable personal losses, including the death of my second son Santosh at
prime age.
Those
experiences changed the way I looked at life.
Solitude.
Living
alone.
Not
caring about anything.
Detachment.
Resignation.
I do not
live in a luxurious villa, but thankfully I have no serious financial worries.
At my age, however, a few health problems are inevitable.
Against
that backdrop, Jwala's life became something of a compass for me.
He may
deny it, but he too lives a retired life.
A few
years ago, I visited his home. In earlier days, visiting each other had been
routine. By then, however, I had almost stopped leaving my own house.
To tell
the truth, I barely stepped outside my room.
Bedroom
to bathroom.
Bathroom
to bedroom.
Every
meal arrived in my room.
That was
how completely loneliness had taken hold of me.
His home,
on the other hand, overflowed with life and warmth.
Years
ago, when my wife was alive, people used to describe our home in exactly the
same way.
When I
arrived at his place, my former senior colleague from All India Radio and former News
Director, R. V. V. Krishnarao, was already there. We had once met almost every
day, yet years had passed since we had last seen each other.
There
were many others as well.
Old
friends whom I had not met for years.
Vanam
Narsinga Rao and his wife Mataji.
Vanam
Geetha, one of my late wife's closest friends.
Her
husband, Vanam Rangarao.
My elder
brother Bhandaru Ramachandra Rao and my sister in law Vimala Devi.
Jwala's
home had become a gathering place for relatives, friends, well wishers, and
companions from every stage of life.
Jwala
firmly believes that retirement becomes joyful when people continue meeting
friends, relatives, and loved ones from time to time, sharing old memories and
new experiences.
According
to him, relationships survive only when people stay in touch.
That is
why he still keeps in contact with childhood friends, former colleagues,
officers, and staff members from every organization where he worked.
He calls
them regularly.
Often
there is no particular reason.
He simply
wants to ask how they are doing.
Watching
him, I realized how much importance he gives to human relationships, not merely
in theory but in practice.
I have an
even larger contact list on my phone.
Yet I
rarely call anyone.
I
convince myself that there is no point disturbing people unnecessarily.
At this
age, can I suddenly become like him?
I know I
cannot.
Because I
know myself very well.
I am
simply too set in my ways.
If
birthdays alone count, he is exactly one day younger than I am.
I was
born on August 7.
Jwala was
born on August 8.
If years
alone count, I am one or two years older.
But I can
say this with complete confidence.
Even two
years from now, Jwala will remain more energetic and active than I am today.
That is
simply his nature.
I
originally planned to publish this piece on his birthday next month. But I
believe birthday tributes deserve absolute accuracy. Not even a single
misplaced word should creep into them.
That is
why I am posting it in advance.
One final
thought.
There are
many things about me that Jwala does not like. He says them openly, right to my
face.
There are
equally many things about him that I do not particularly like.
The
difference is that I never say them aloud.
He has
mastered the art of debate.
He enjoys
proving that his argument is stronger than everyone else's.
His
favorite method is to provoke the other person while remaining perfectly calm
himself. He can make someone else lose their temper and then quietly win the
argument.
I have
never liked that habit.
But it is
true.
Like me,
he is also stubborn.
He never
accepts another person's opinion without a good fight.
Advance
Birthday Greetings, My Dear Friend Jwala!
To be
continued...
