Shakespeare, Dadabhai and I

Shakespeare, Dadabhai and I

My grandfather, Dadabhai we called him affectionately, was a role model to me. We loved each other immensely and spent a lot of quality time together in pursuit of many things of mutual interest . My father was a busy surgeon and could spare very little time. I had no complaints.  Dadabhai was always by my side. He was a upright and honest man, strict disciplinarian and had great poise and personality. His knowledge of Hindustani classical music was extensive. A fine singer himself he , however couldn’t stand modern day music. Many a time I argued with him on the virtues of light music but failed to turn him around. He led a regulated life carrying on from his sporting days. He was a born athlete and could swim, run and walk miles in his hay days . He believed in “Health is wealth” and strived to keep fit . I don’t remember seeing him seriously ill except when he was in his death bed, a sight I still remember. I was mentally shattered by Dadabhai’s death. I had lost my dearest friend, mentor and guide. It took me years to get over the grief. His dictates has been my strength all these years . “ If there is anything worth doing it’s worth doing it well” Dadabhai used to preach and practice. His thirst for knowledge knew no bounds and the meticulous way he went about it was exemplary. English language was his passion and he took great care to learn the language the hard way. I have seen him go through the Oxford Dictionary from A-Z underlining words and  inking notes.

I got the first taste of William Shakespeare one stormy and rain lashed evening. I was thirteen and in midst of school summer holidays. The skies had opened up and I was forced indoors much to my dislike. Dadabhai was in his room reading aloud from Shakespeare open in his hand. I crept into his room stealthily. By a wave of his hand he asked me to sit and then he stood up and resumed reading aloud.

On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise

of thunder and lightning heard.

Enter a Master and a Boatswain……….

Dadabhai read on, his eyes sparkling, his milky white beard swaying. The superb dramatized reading was enthralling. The modulations he created to depict Prospero, Alonso, Ariel, Gonzalo  and all the other characters was astonishing . It was a one man play, breathtaking. I was glued to my seat and gaped wide eyed at the artistry of play reading. Dadabhai was in a trance. I closed my eyes in sheer thrill. The raging rain and thunder outside mingled with Dadabhai’s tempest. The shipwreck and the events on the island unfolded slowly . I lived through the play  mesmerised. The rain had stopped by the time the play ended. There was a sound of silence in the room. Dadabhai slowly sat down in his arm chair . I sat in front emotionally drained out. My tryst with Shakespeare had begun . The days that followed were filled with drama and emotions oozing out from Dadabhai’s narration of Julius Ceaser, Mid Summer Night’s Dream, Hamlet and so on. .

I walked the streets of Rome. I mingled with the Roman crowd through the streets  following  Julius Ceaser in his moment of glory. Cassius was close by with his gang of conspirators. A shiver went down my spine when the soothsayer prophesied “Beware the ides of March.” I cried when Ceaser was dealt “the unkindest cut of all”. I hated Brutus for the heinous act.

Shylok sharpening his knife with a wicked grin. Portia in the court room disguised as a lawyer …………… The play reading went on and on. I got addicted to Dadabhai’s rendition of Shakespeare and every evening as a routine I went up to Dadabhai for another dose of Shakespeare. By the time my Summer Holidays ended I had become enriched in Shakespearean plays. The English was medieval and  too tough to understand. But Dadabhai worked hard to make it easy for me. I don’t remember picking up Shakespeare again after Dadabhai passed away. I knew it would be futile.