This three-piece sofa set was bought by my great-grandfather, Dr. R. Krishnaswami in the late 1940s. My grandmother, seven or eight years old at the time, remembers accompanying her father on a walk to Mount Road, then home to various furniture stores. It was purchased for 175 rupees, a price considered extremely high for that time period, given the socio-economic conditions of the country post-Partition.
There was literally nothing that Kiran Chandra Roy could do when the tenant fled from Itarsi in Madhya Pradesh, rather than pay months of outstanding rent. The silver lining was that he was a skilled carpenter and in his hurry to flee, had left quite a few pieces of furniture behind, which Capt. KC Roy, my dadu promptly confiscated and carted home. That is how this teakwood table came to our family in the late 50’s.
The two boxes – one engraved with flowers and leaves, and the other, a cigarette holder – that my mother had bequeathed to me not only belonged to my maternal grandfather, but they were also crafted by him. My nana, Naresh Chandra Sharma used to work at a wood factory in his hometown of Sitapur, in Uttar Pradesh.
The nilavilakku, as it is commonly called in Kerala, or the vazhaipoo vilakku as it is known in Tamil, is common to both states. Nilam, meaning floor, is in reference to the floor-standing lamp while vazhaipoo likens the top of the lamp to the banana flower. The exact date and origin of Pradeep’s vilakku is unknown, but it can be traced back to beyond the 1930s in Madurai.
My Thatha did not expect Mother Teresa to write him at all. But after two weeks or so, once he was transferred to Madras, he received a signed letter by Mother Teresa at his office. The letter conveyed gratitude and how his contribution helped several children at the Missionaries of Charity.
