Then suddenly, as if waking up from a dream, he shook his shoulders. Then he wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeves. Vantage point: Hari Tatya by P. Tope then escaped alone into the jungles of Paron.

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Friday, May 04, Hari Tatya by P. While considering different options about what to translate next, Hari Tatya stood out as a particular appealing candidate. He is so universally identifiable. Hari Tatya - the eccentric but genial family friend with one foot firmly in the distant past that all kids have encountered growing up. Your Hari Tatya might not have been interested in history.

Maybe he was into politics, or science, or even astrology. But that does not take away from the HariTatyaness of all Hari Tatyas. But even a fraction of the essence of the character sketch should make it readable.

And I have changed or omitted some references to make the essay accessible. And used contemporary phrases and expressions. A couple of days ago, I heard someone use the phrase "irrefutable proof", and I was suddenly reminded of Hari Tatya. I had heard him say "I have irrefutable proof of this!! So had everyone else who knew him. Irrefutable Proof". The guy refuses to inhabit the present. And describes the past as if he can see it unfolding in front of his eyes. But I am sure he remembers it vividly.

Come on, son! How can you not remember? It was a Saturday. Late in the afternoon. The remarkable thing about Hari Tatya was how informally he addressed everyone, be they younger or older than him. He is the only person I ever knew who spoke to my generally feared and respected grandpa like an old chum. But he was obviously several years younger.

Because he generally treated grandpa with respect and veneration. In his own way. He never used the respectful pronoun as is the norm when speaking to elders in India. Maybe because grandpa gave him some pocket money to tide him over every month. And often provided him with seed funding for his latest entrepreneurial venture.

No one in the family can remember exactly when this creature named Hari Tatya became a part of our extended household. My grandfather was a very generous man, and a friend to anyone who tried to be his friend. In those days, rice, dal, and flour for a meal were measured not by cupfuls, but by fistfuls.

The dinner table was populated by not just immediate family, but also uncles, aunts, nephews, nieces, and cousins once, twice, several times removed. So at pretty much any meal, there were always a few unexpected guests present.

My grandma seemed to me like Annapoorna the goddess of nourishment reincarnated. Her hands were blessed with some magical touch that imparted rich flavor even on a glass of water she served. So you can imagine how tasty and welcoming any dinner table she laid out was.

Hari Tatya joined our family by turning up at one such dinner table. After that, he kept turning up. He was there with us at joyous occasions. He was with us at sad moments. But all those years, even as I grew up and looked different every year, Hari Tatya always looked the same.

A simple cotton shirt, modest dhoti, and a rarely-washed Gandhi cap. We kids referred to his style of wearing the cap as "Compass Fashion".

If his nose pointed east, then the two ends of his cap seemed to align with the North-South axis, like a compass needle. I never had any idea what Hari Tatya did for a living. I only knew that grandpa kept helping him start some "promising new business" every few months.

Grandpa had always had a dream of owning and running his own business. But his stable and respected position in society, the steady income his job brought him, and the large family depending on that income, made taking any big risks all but impossible. I remember one monsoon season when grandpa gave Hari Tatya money to start a business selling umbrellas.

For the next couple of years, everyone in the family got a new umbrella for free in the first week of June. It seemed like grandpa was more devoted to making the umbrella business succeed.

I remember he would come home from work in the evening every day and hand Hari Tatya a sheet of paper, "Here are orders for some umbrellas. Be sure to deliver them to these addresses right away. Hari Tatya told us absorbing stories and taught us fascinating poems and shlokas as we accompanied him. That too at the top of his voice while walking on the street without any regard to passers by. I remember an anecdote from one of our umbrella sorties.

We were all walking with those umbrellas stacked on our heads. Hari Tatya told us to put the umbrellas down, and join him on a stone bench on a street square, and regaled us with the story of Sant Ramdas. He had a truly unique narrative style.

Because no matter how far back in the past the event he was narrating had occurred, he effortlessly injected himself into the proceedings.

The way he recounted those stories convinced us that he had seen it all unfold in front of his eyes. He would run away and hide somewhere. His mother would ask us - have you seen my little Narayan anywhere? The village chief had the habit of pouncing on any opportunity to be arrogant.

He said - Narayan? Which Narayan? There are hundreds of Narayans in this village! Mother said - Please help me, sir. My Narayan.

Narayan Thosar. Have you seen him? There were tears in her eyes. And with good reason. Tell me Purushottam, if you go missing some day. And your mother is looking for you everywhere. Tell me, Purushottam! But as our hands held the umbrellas on our heads, our shirt sleeves would be busy wiping our tearful eyes as Hari Tatya continued with Sant Ramdas a. Fair good-looking little boy. I tell you guys, this Narayan looked so beautiful as a child.

Positively radiant. She was aghast - did those Muslim invaders kidnap him to convert him to Islam??? Oh my god!!! And soon it was afternoon. Still no sign of Narayan! Ah, how beautiful that idol was, kids, believe me! So divine We all were still carrying umbrellas. But still, we did our best to twist our arms and pay our respects to the imaginary idol too.

Mother said that, and opened the closet to take out her best clothes to offer to the goddess. And lo! Narayan was sitting in the closet! What are you doing here? How would you know? Narayan said He blew his nose. Then he wiped his eyes with his shirt sleeves. All us little umbrella carriers, or chhatrapatis, had no idea what to do next. Hari Tatya regained control of his demeanor and said, "Just think Purushottam


Hari Tatya

Hari Tatya resembled tatyx crow in many ways. Now Hari Tatya himself is part of history. Hari Tatya P. Deshpande mp3 download He knew hundreds of of aartis. Hari Tatya would narrate this story with so much pathos, that all our eyes would moisten up as well. His mother would ask us — have you seen my little Narayan anywhere? Saintly right from his childhood.



All us little umbrella carriers, or chhatrapatis, had no idea what to do next. Hari Tatya resembled a crow in many ways. Music for your Website. The British forces surrendered on 25 June and were evacuated to the Satichaura Ghat on hafi river, where they were massacred.





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