Day 5

Shri Charan Das Khanna (1914 - 2012) ~ 98 Yrs

On Monday, February 13th 2012, Shri C D Khanna, 'Papaji', passed away at about 11 am IST. He is survived by his wife Smt Raj Khanna, his four children, their children, and his great grand children, Arjun, AKA, His Billuness, Virat Arjan Singh Kirori Mal of Chhaganpur and Anika AKA, Her Bossiness, Princess Anika of Chhamakpur - However, those titles are another story... This story is about my grandfather, Mr C D Khanna. This story is about one of the people who unknowingly became a profound influence on the way I think, on how I view myself as a person, an Indian and what I think a 'good person' should be like.

Papaji was born in a small town called Shahpur, in Kangra District, then part of the State of Punjab, in 1914, in Colonial India. Papaji was second youngest of four siblings and grew up in austere surroundings. The son of Shri Ram Rakha Mal studied in Government School Dharamsala till his metriculate. Interestingly, Dev Anand, renowned Indian Film Star went to the same school and wound have been some ten years Papaji's junior. Always a brilliant student (the only way he could stay in school was through scholarships), he graduated from Government College Lahore, Punjab University with a Master's in English; and by 1938 had landed his first job in Commercial Banking. He was married in the same year to Rajinder Kumari and they settled in Shimla for some time.

Fast forward to 1975, after a long tenure at the Industrial Finance Corporation of India (1948 - 75), Papaji relinquished his position as the first 'In-House' Chairman of IFCI and became Honorary (yes that means he wasn't paid - more on that later) Chairman at the Risk Capital Foundation, an offshoot of the IFCI, created by Papaji to encourage technocrats to become entrepreneurs by providing them with interest free loans. Hailed in his memoirs, by those that knew him professionally, as an innovative visionary, he studied international banking systems and adopted, freely, best practices from the World and the Commonwealth Development Banks. He also created a Management Development Institute to train Managers for these new, up and coming, entrepreneurial ventures that were nascent in the late seventies. He encouraged his children to seek the best education possible and with that encouragement, both he and Biji (my grand mother) were the proud parents of two Doctors, a Nuclear Physicist and a Chemical Engineer.

My first memory of him, however, happens a bit later. It would have been sometime around 1983. In my head I'm guessing I was 5 years old when this happened and so I have arbitrarily dated this memory to have occurred at that time. Papaji would have retired from RCF and was serving on the board of several public and private entities. He would always be flying to either Calcutta, Bombay or Madras and I would ride in the car to pick him up from the airport. Of course my motive for doing so was rather selfish. Airlines at that time, Air India still might these days as well, would give toffees and eclairs to its passengers, both, during landing and takeoff. Papaji would save some for us and I would eagerly wait for him to return so that I could get a toffee. I must admit that a small eclair was a big treat for me then. These days I have to make do with some form of almond or chocolate croissant to achieve the same sort of satisfaction. How times have changed! Those early treats paint a vivid portrayal of the person who would later on, as I finished medical school, shape my world view on what can be achieved by sheer dedication and belief.

Today, on the 5th day after his death, in between the 4th and 10th day ceremonies, I find myself in the surreal position of visiting my grand mother in the Cardiac Care Unit of Fortis Hospital, New Delhi. She has been there since the day after his passing, her heart rate refusing to fall below 150 beats per minute. As we run out of medical options to lower her heart I consider the week that is about to finish. Over the previous weekend I was preparing a presentation for an Entrepreneurship Course on Identifying Target Markets, then suddenly, I'm on a plane bound for Delhi. On landing, I find out that the Israeli diplomat that was targeted in a recent car bomb attack happens to be our tenant and that a friend's father passed away on Monday, too, due to cardiac arrest... All on Monday!

Throughout this storm of emotions I will hold on to what has been bequeathed to me by virtue of, my good fortune of, being born into this family. A stubbornness to do what is right and perhaps an obsession to dream big and to think of the possibilities in life. I have started this blog to recollect my memories of, not only my grandfather, but to recollect those experiences that have influenced me, the human stories that shape who I am. I am filled with the possibilities of life and want, desperately, for my grandmother to come home. According to Hinduism, the 13th Day ceremonies are her last chance to say goodbye before the passing soul departs from its earthly trappings... but more importantly Biji needs to come home so that we can console her and we can be a family once again. Papaji I miss you... Biji come home.

I am struck by the profoundness of the world we live in, in the experiences, both kind and sad, that we, as humans, undergo. I am sad for those that are left behind but I have the fortitude to put on a smiling face and to encourage everyone to be the best that they can be. These are the lessons that have been handed down to me... these are the lessons that I am duty bound to share with everyone. These are the lessons that make me tick... tic tic tic