Wednesday, February 18, 2009

A Rare Human Being

Sangeetha and I lost a very close friend Dilip (Prof Dilip Veeraraghavan IIT Madras) last week. Dilip knew me from the time that I was just a young listener of music. We were more than friends; we were family and took all the liberty that one does with their own siblings. I will deeply miss all the wonderful conversations, fights, arguments and chatter that we shared especially about music, cricket, politics etc over the last almost twenty years. Dikshitar and Brindamma were probably the most discussed topics between us. Our mutual madness for both generally drove conversations.

The fact that he was visually impaired did not in anyway affect the principles of his life. There were countless times we would tell him to stop taking the bus to IIT everyday and make life easier for himself and all he will say is “ you know my socialistic leanings”. His deep care for others and their well-being was so rare.

We did go and see him in late November and I in fact told him that he should come to my concert at the Academy as he had done over the last two decades (I don’t think he missed even one) and of course the post concert next day discussion etc. Unfortunately that was not to be.

Just before leaving his home he asked us to sing Mamava Pattabhirama. I remember him waiting for me to sing the Brindamma sangathis for the pallavi as we ended the Krithi.

There are so many lovely memories of Dilip that it’s difficult to put in writing and I think they are better as a memories.

We miss you

Love

TM Krishna
Sangeetha

Friday, February 13, 2009

I met Dilip aka Dr.Veeraraghavan about 7 odd years ago, when I was still in school. He passed away this morning. He was a friend of dad's. Dad apparently used to read to him from libraries and home in Delhi during his PhD, almost everyday. They lost touch after dad went abroad for a few years. One day, I tagged along with dad to IITM, utilizing his invite to the book launch of Nature's Spokesman: M. Krishnan and Wildlife organized by the Bombay Natural History Society (dad's a life member of BNHS) and Prakriti (IITM's nature club). One of the organizers was standing outside the CLT complex. Dad walked upto him and touched his hand, and he immediately said "Thyagu, eppadi da irrukae?" (translated from tamil - Thyagu, how are you?) - they were meeting after almost a decade. In such a span, faces are generally forgotten - Dilip otoh recognized dad from one touch! To the uninitiated, Dilip had lost vision in both eyes as a youngster. After reestablishing contact, dad used to visit or call him when possible. I too visited him a few times after that, while visiting IITM. I don't know if he could remember me offhand, but in any case I always used to introduce myself as "Thyagu's daughter" and talk for a while, generally acting messenger between dad and him, transfering books. I always used to nag dad into taking me along whenever he went visiting on Dilip. And I will always regret that I could have spoken more with him.

This year my visits to IITM increased, due to various reasons. On one such occasion, dad asked me to try meeting Dilip or at least meet Murali (Dr.Muraleedharan) and enquire about him. Dad had tried reaching Dilip at his office a number of times, of no avail. One of their mutual friends had told dad that Dilip has been "unwell" for a while. On this visit, one of the students mentioned the same thing. I got his contact number from the department office. I met Prof. Murali who was mighty busy that day and chased me out of his office. Dad promptly made a few calls and I came to know only that day, Dilip hadn't been in office for a while now and had another ailment to cope with - cancer. The last time I had met him was in Shaastra 2008 - he was out on a jaunt checking Shaastra out, with Murali explaining the going-ons. I ran over, introduced myself yet again and had a short yack before getting back to my events. I wish I'd had longer, deeper conversations with him. I wish I could have heard atleast one of his talks. And I wish I had found the time to visit him atleast once in his last months.

Dad is out of town and will be returning in a coupla days and he was upset he could not come down before noon today, to see him one last time. Dilip is one of the few people I held/hold in awe, who inspire, who defined to me the meaning of the word "awe-inspiring"- for no matter what his pains, no matter what his problems, I have never seen him without a smile playing on his lips or without atleast a few students or professors around him, deep in discussion...

I feel guilty, staying in bed for a viral infection.

Kadambari Devarajan
http://kadambarid.livejournal.com/71576.html

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Dilip, I really didn’t want to stand here and talk about you…because you didn’t believe in that… what you believed you practiced in life and showed us…. I was told to talk about Dilip and Nature… do I need to? If you knew Dilip, it is difficult to distinguish between the two. But to many who may not have had the lifetime opportunity to meet or interact with Dilip…or had the sight to see the “inconvenient truths” he told, this is what I thought of… I quote from the Memoirs of Pablo Neruda… which I wanted to read to Dilip and he would have enjoyed it ….

“Under the volcanoes, beside the snow-capped mountains, among the huge lakes, the fragrant, the silent, the tangled Chilean forest…. My feet sink down into the dead leaves, a fragile twig crackles, the giant rauli trees rise in all their bristling height, a bird from the cold jungle passes over, flaps its wings and stops in the sunless branches… and then, from the hideaway, it sings like an oboe…… The wild scents of the laurel, the dark scent of the boldo herb, enter my nostrils and flood my whole being….This is a vertical world: a nation of birds, a plentitude of leaves. ……the vegetable world keeps up its low rustle until a storm churns up all the music of the Earth.. he goes on narrating the enchanting Chilean forest thus and ends by saying…. Anyone who hasn’t been in the Chilean forest does not know this planet…..same is true about Dilip too…. He was like the big banyan tree which stands in the quadrangle in front of his office, where a whole lot of things happen…. Birds come and feed on the fruits, rest in the branches, converse in diverse languages about their philosophy of life…their hardships or just chatter about the simple things in life, monkeys come in the afternoons and sleep on its broad branches, or search for fruits, deer rest under the tree and feed on the fruits…. Everything is possible with that tree….To different people it gave different perspective and different solace. As someone on the blog said “he was our worry-tree”. We probably didn’t find time to see his sensitivities or needs. He was worried about the way we treat the Earth. He cared not to hurt anything that he came across and lived giving care all the time. Keeping aside his discomforts and ailments he traveled on buses, minimized his material needs and wished to see us living a life which is fewer burdens on Earth’s resources. He told us when we visited him “I am happy you came by bus”. That was Dilip.

Neruda said ……”Meanwhile, men are soaring into the solar system… Shoes track up the moon… Everything struggles to change, except the outworn systems…. These outworn systems were spawned in the immense spiderwebs of the Middle ages… spiderwebs stronger than the steel of machinery…. Yet there are people who believe in change, who have made changes, who have made the changes work, who have made changes burst into flower…… Nobody can hold Spring back!” Dilip was that spring, is that spring and will be that spring for many of us. He has transformed the lives of many and made them embrace a Fukuokan lifestyle which only few could dream of….there are many students and others like Siddarth, Chitra, Prashant etc…who have taken up an organic life style, living in remote villages of India doing organic farming and helping people who are in need abandoning the “luxuries” and “comforts” of the lifestyle and income they were used to, following Dilip. It is truly remarkable in this era, that someone who is not a religious leader or politician could mesmerize and change and transform lives…..like Dilip…

susy varughese at a condolence meeting for Dilip

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

[Cut and paste from http://not-that-sane.blogspot.com/2009/02/dilip-veeraraghavan.html]

Today morning, I got word that Dilip Veeraraghavan, a faculty member in the Department of Humanities at IITM, died after suffering through colon cancer and its treatment.

He was a humanities professor in a school that almost exclusively focused on hard sciences; a blind academic in a country where the disabled never make it past high school; a friend to every student who walked into his office in a culture where students and faculty would never meet socially.

Many of us students at IITM had lived rather sheltered lives; we knew that India was poor and that other people didn't have our advantages growing up. But it was Dilip who showed us how we, too, could make a difference. He was responsible, behind the scenes, for the dozens of volunteer organizations that have started by IITM alumni. For example, Balaji Sampath who founded the Association for India's Development (AID) recalls:

I should mention in all this the silent role that Dilip Veeraraghavan (a professor at IIT) played. Apart from getting us access to IIT facilities - CLT, rooms, etc - he also tried to rope in volunteers and gave the whole effort a degree of legitimacy that helped it grow. He also kept pushing us on to newer ideas, particularly sensitisation of students to various social issues.

He continued over the years to impact the lives of everyone he came across -- as kadambarid notes:

Dilip is one of the few people I held/hold in awe, who inspire, who defined to me the meaning of the word "awe-inspiring"- for no matter what his pains, no matter what his problems, I have never seen him without a smile playing on his lips or without atleast a few students or professors around him, deep in discussion...

I was one of that pack of the students; I would go by his office to read to him and throw my laissez faire free market ideas at him. He would patiently ask me questions and get me to recognize their limits.

After I came to the US, contact with him was very sporadic -- he would have emails and letters read to him, but the thought of a strange, young 17-year old reading letters naturally put a crimp on what you could write about. I visited him pretty much every time I went back to Madras and was always shocked by how he would immediately recognize my voice. My last trip to India, though, I was in Madras only for a few hours and didn't get to see him. And now it appears I won't see him any more.

His was one of the biggest impacts on my life. I will miss him.

lakshmanan valliappa
http://not-that-sane.blogspot.com
I met Dilip when I was a student. I interacted with
him briefly at that time.

I had greater opportunity to interact with him after I
joined IITM as a faculty. I have had the pleasure of
walking with him from IITM Gate to his office on a few
occasions. I particularly remember these walks,
because I got the opportunity to chat with him by
myself on those occasions. I say this because, he so
closely interacted with so many students, both past
and present, that his office almost always had more
than one visitor at the same time. It was rare to find
him by himself. He unobtrusively made such a great
personal impact on almost everyone who met him, that
to many, meeting him was central to their visit to
campus. There have even been occasions when I have
gone to his office and found that he was not available
but there were several others in his office!

His leaving us indeed is a great loss to all of us. He
graced us with his presence.

I do remember reading somewhere that it is not how
long we live but how we live that matters. By that
measure, Dilip was so far ahead.

Farewell Dilip.

prathap haridoss

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

I write this while still not recovered from the grief of losing a good friend, a professor from the Humanities Department in IIT Madras, Dilip Veeraraghavan. He passed away after fighting colon cancer for many months. This is the very first time in my life that I'm facing the loss of someone I've known so closely!

I got to know Dilip about five years ago when I joined IIT. His room was on one end of the corridor where my office was. That's when I got to spend long hours with him. It took us one meeting to find out we had similar interests - from classical music, non-violence, Gandhi, sustainability, organic farming, alternative health systems to world peace. And a concern for the students we came to interact with.

Dilip could not see with his eyes. There is no other way to say this, since it would not at all be true if I said that he was blind, had no vision or that he could not see! Dilip was someone who had a deeper insight than almost all the people I've met have, into almost every issue under the sun.

I don't know if there has ever been (or there ever will be) in the history of IIT-M, any other professor who knew and stayed in touch with so many past and present students. Dilip remembered every one of those hundreds of students by his/her name, year of passing, department, interests, likes and dislikes, place of residence, family history and most importantly, voice. I'm not talking about the mere extra-sharp senses and memory that most blind people tend to have. I am talking about a deep and genuine care and concern that he had for every student (every person) he came in touch with.

During some very disturbing and chaotic times that I personally went through during my stay at IIT, Dilip was always there welcoming me with warmth and love, listening to my long hours of ramblings and outpourings, offering his insights and humble advices. He sometimes sacrificed even his favourite cricket commentaries (on his hand-held transistor) in order to listen to them! He was there with Rajeev and me right through our tough battles around our wedding decisions. (He traveled all the way across the city to be there on both days of the function!) Even after I left my job there, I made it a point to visit him almost every time I was there in the campus, every time getting introduced as 'a very good friend' to some past student (from as long back as the late 80's!) who'd be there visiting him. My most recent interactions with him were around the series of articles I've been writing on 'The History of Green Revolution' which interested him a great deal. After having carefully listened to the drafts of entire articles I'd read out to him, he would go over every single correction to be made - from grammar to historical facts - he'd have made note of in his mind.

I think of Dilip often. His words ring in my ears, most definitely every time I open my wardrobe "Hoarding is a form of violence. By keeping things out of circulation, you are contributing to poverty." How true! His ability to express childlike joy at simple things of life, and to remain compassionate and his unfailing belief in and practice of ‘satyagraha’ (winning over evil with love / soul force) will continue to inspire me till the very end. Even during times of great physical pain and discomfort, he would constantly bring back any conversation about his work, health and wellbeing, to how and what I was doing. Dilip will continue to remind me to give of myself as much as I can.

Dilip, you are being deeply missed!

Sangeetha Sriram
http://sangeethasriram.blogspot.com
I do not know if the phrase friend, philosopher and guide applies more aptly to anyone than to Dilip Veeraraghavan, who passed away last Thursday.

I am a bit hazy as to precisely when I first came into contact with him but it was sometime in mid-1991 when some wing junta were taking the Indian National Movement course he was teaching. He was one of those rare profs who would hang out with students in hostels and even made us to address him by his first name. Before long, some of us were going to tarams with him, not for bun omelettes but as volunteers of Tamil Nadu Science Forum's arivoli iyakkam, a literacy movement that was to spread across most of TN. This was our first gentle introduction to social movements.

Over the years, we kept in touch via emails and during the ritual yearly visits to the homeland, never once failing to elicit an eppidi dA irukke, cackup as soon as he heard my voice. Students and friends would constantly drop in to his small office room packed with books and journals, which we would read to him. We soon discovered a common interest in carnatic music. Our conversations would be jump from Marxism (".. the problem with Marx is he did not take into account Nature into his philosophy..", he told me once), to Fukuoka's One Straw Revolution (he gifted me a copy in the mid-nineties which radically changed my worldview) and then to Sudha Ragunathan's bhava or lack thereof and the brahminisation of Carnatic music and onto Gandhi, on whom his views were a balanced middle-ground between deification and vilification.

More than anything else, he was a wonderful listener. He would patiently listen to opinions and philosophies of all colours and stripes and then gently respond, bringing to bear all his insight and wisdom. This way, he quietly influenced hundreds of IITM students and others who were fortunate to come into contact with him.

The last time I walked him was from Prof KRK's house to IISc along Sampige Road in Malleswaram in 2006. "Let us not take an auto, let us walk", he said, as usual and walk we did despite the lack of sidewalks and the noise. He was super thrilled with some vintage MD Ramanathan recordings i made for him.

While it is a sad occasion, we should also use this moment to reflect on all the things Dilip stood and lived for- simplicity, selflessness, social justice, ending oppression and a non-dogmatic, gentle and positive approach to life and try to cultivate some of these qualities in our own.

manoj saranathan
Dear Dilip:

We are told that you left us this morning. We weren't, and are not, prepared for this. Very many of us aren't.

You are one person who we always considered to be amongst the best visionaries we have known, but to who's many a brilliant ideas many of us remained blind.

Here in our institute, you have been a signature of moral values and code of ethics. The students of our institute and very many of your friends here will never be able to find even a close substitute. Your loss is a huge one for us. I cannot even imagine how many of our students and your friends will feel lost and rudderless without you.

You will live in our hearts. We have loved and adored you. Your life has taught us, both younger and older than you, all a lot. Remembering you will continue to teach us what a teacher ought to be. That would include a role not merely in the classrooms, but also outside it, for our students live here with us, amidst us, away from their families. On this residential campus, teachers and students have a great opportunity to sustain the traditional GURUKUL system in which teachers would be mentors of the students in very many ways. After all that is said and done, we are in the end one family, and a teacher has a crucial role in campus life. You lived a teacher's life in a very complete sense that will continue to inspire both students and teachers. Your life will continue to light the way for very many.

Dilip, we shall miss you immensely!

Yours,

Pranawa Deshmukh

Professor & Head, Department of Physics,
Indian Institute of Technology - Madras, Chennai - 600036, India