Legacy: Letters from eminent parents to their daughters (21 page)

Renuka Ramnath

t 33, Renuka Ramnath was sitting pretty with a successful career in a reputed bank, an adoring husband, two lovely children, and a picture-perfect life till fate dealt her a cruel card one day that brought her life crashing around her like a pack of cards.

In a minute, a callous truck driver coming down the wrong side of a hairpin bend on a narrow mountain road had crashed his massive vehicle into the car that carried Renuka’s happy family on their way back from a precious holiday, snatching away her beloved husband. Suddenly, the man whom she had depended on for everything was no longer around her to lean on, taken away by a cruel twist of destiny.

‘Sitting on the embankment, a few feet away from the mangled car in which my husband lay dead, the message came to me from somewhere above that I had to find a way to get over this setback and be back on my feet. Cutting through the noise of my three-year old daughter’s frightened wailing, a message came to me that it was now my job to step in and give my children everything that their father would have given them. I would never be able to bring him back but I would do everything humanly possible to make sure that they lacked for nothing else in life.’

Sitting in the cozy comfort of her sprawling farmhouse high up in the smoky blue Western ghats, as the incessant rain beat on the French windows, Renuka Ramnath poured her heart out, talking about the ups and downs of her life, the things that shaped and made her the woman she is today, the people who held her hands along the way and helped her remain committed to her calling despite a setback that would have paralyzed many ordinary human beings.

There were no commas or full stops in our conversation, and no subject that she shied away from. That is how she lives her life too: no holds barred and no brakes to stop her from getting to her destination. Renuka Ramnath is a woman of extraordinary grit and determination. If you were to box her into a compartment—something she is intensely averse to doing since she does not believe in compartmentalization—she would be in the box on which immensely successful women are labelled ‘power woman’. Only a couple of years ago, after spending 23 years at India’s second largest private bank as the head of its private equity firm, ICICI Ventures, Renuka quit and decided to chart a different journey, on her own terms. Within months, she was back in business, heading the affairs at MULTIPLES, an equity fund that currently manages $450 million of investors’ money put largely on her reputation in the business.

But cut through all the adjectives that describe her name, and the woman who you find underneath is a simple, caring, unbelievably positive woman with a
joie de vivre
that is rare to find in a world that is increasingly like being on a treadmill to nowhere. Meeting her convinced me in many ways that the human mind and its indefatigable spirit can indeed conquer everything that life delivers at our doorstep.

When I landed up at her home that morning, my teeth were chattering from the chill of the morning air. I was welcomed in by her aged parents with warmth and care. Her father was busy with his morning prayers while her mother was bustling around in the kitchen, preparing a meal for us. When I finished the interview, I was led into the open kitchen that looked over mountain peaks hidden under dense monsoon clouds, a lazy river snaking its way in the distance, and it all seemed somehow surreal that I should be sitting there eating a simple South Indian meal prepared with love and care by a woman well into her seventies, assisted by her daughter who is a frequent inhabitant of the list of the country’s most powerful women.

When you meet them, it is not difficult to imagine where she got her caring nature and her endearing simplicity from. At her current position in life, Renuka can afford a lot of things that money can buy, not just for herself but for her family and her large network of friends. But she has not let it affect her or her children in any way. ‘For me, the biggest wealth continues to be the unceasing love of my children, my parents, and my friends scattered all over the world. People are the biggest treasure of my life.’

Renuka writes this simple, heartfelt epistle to her daughter in the faraway upstate New York. She is there and is currently studying Psychology and Education so that she can somehow find a more sensitive way for society to deal with people with mental and emotional disabilities.

Dear Ramya,

I still remember the days when Appa was gone and I used to be frightened about the prospects of bringing up two little children all by myself without his loving presence to guide me along. That seems such a long way ago now and the two of you are sterling young people who make me proud of what you have made out of your lives. People often tell me that I have done a splendid job of raising you as grounded, balanced, and loving children; I know I have and I tell them that I thank God everyday for it as well as all the people who have supported me in doing that.

It is not often that I would write you a letter of this kind but none of what I say here are mere words; they are the stuff that I have experienced in the last fifty years. So it is, in some ways, coming right from the horse’s mouth!

Dear Kannamma, you are on the threshold of a life that is brimming with promise and potential and as you set out on a long and fruitful journey, I want to tell you about the things that helped me along the way, when I was like you, a young woman eager to experience a life of her own.

Your grandparents and my siblings—your aunt and uncle and all my cousins—say that even when I was merely three-years-old, I had a mind of my own and refused to let anyone tell me that something was impossible to do. When my grown up siblings and cousins in our large joint family closed the door on my face so that they could learn their music lessons in peace, I banged on the doors everyday and screamed to be let in because I wanted to learn too. My family said it was too early but the endless banging on the door continued till one day the music teacher convinced my parents to let me into the room and I started learning music at that very age of three. Music continues to be one of my biggest passions to this date, a companion that soothes the soul and refreshes the mind when it is restless or fatigued.

That refusal to let other people lay down standards and benchmarks for me has been one of the most important principles of my life and I hope that you can make it yours too.

When I enrolled for a chemical engineering course at the prestigious Veermata Jijabai Technological Institute (VJIT) in 1978, I was only the fourth girl in the institute’s 99-year-old history. The Principal of the college did his best to dissuade me, saying I would be alone in a class full of boys and cautioned me that it would be difficult, if I chose that as a profession. He cautioned me that insisting on taking the textile engineering course could possibly mean that I would never get employment because there were not many women tough to handle the heavy textile machinery that I would have to in the industry at that point. My male classmates would often chide me and say that as a woman in that course, I had deprived a deserving male candidate of his seat because I would only finish the course, get married, and bear children. They did not realize that every time they dissuaded me, talked down to me, and demoralized me, I was more determined to show them that I was made of sterner stuff. I thought to myself, ‘Just what do they know about me that makes them so sure that I cannot complete this course?’

At each stage in my life, I have set my own internal benchmarks for achieving my personal goals. I have been inspired and motivated by people, but my standards of what constitutes excellence have always been set by me.

Often, my parents and my friends wonder why I am not willing to pause or rest on my laurels and my answer to them is that in my lexicon, the word ‘enough’ does not exist. For me there is always something that can be improved, something more to be done and learnt, always something more to innovate… It is easy to mistake this as compulsive behavior but I always say that if you enjoy what you do, there is no question of looking at it as a chore. Take joy in doing whatever it is that you want to do and do the best that you can. Kannamma, for me, hard work is the only way to realize God. That, and a deep, unwavering, unfaltering commitment to your chosen path. Get after the thing that you want with single-mindedness, madness even, and that alone will propel you to your destination.

Growing up in a large joint family of very modest means, I was always impressed and touched by the relentless hard work and sacrifices that my elders made so that the entire family got a decent life and good education. My parents never hid their financial struggles from us and we were conscious and grateful for all the things that we got despite our bottom-of-the-middle-class existence. Money was scarce and the elders stretched themselves so that they never had to deny us anything.

Amma would cook for three of us, do her household chores, and stitch frocks for us so that for the price of buying one, we got two dresses each. And, she denied herself even the small pleasure of a single saree in a year, content with the annual gift of one from her brother! My grandmother too was just as hard working and she kept her flock together, making sure that at any special occasion in the house, the entire family from both our mother and father’s side partook of the joy. Even today we follow the same practices established by her.

Growing up in that atmosphere made me the person I am today. Seeing their commitment and hard work instilled in me the belief that only academic excellence would give me the opportunities that would somehow help me repay everything they did for us. By the time I was in middle-school, being number one became crazily important for me. And it was also important to me to be number one with a big lead. It seems preposterous now, but that one thing consumed my mind to such an extent that dressing up and wanting to look good in my teenage years was not as important as being the number one in class! Be like that child, let the need to work hard and excel come from within you and you will see that there is no need to compete with any external person or force. When you become your own number one motivator, nothing can stop you from reaching your goals.

When your father went away so unexpectedly, I had no choice but to continue my life without missing a stride because I had the responsibility to look after you and your brother. His death was not the turning point of my life because I had always been highly ambitious, but he was my friend, guide, philosopher, a great father to you, and such a wonderful companion that I had handed over the charge of everything in our lives to him. It is difficult to imagine now but he was the invisible anchor for our extended family, the guy who organized the kids’ education, the family’s investment, and the food and entertainment if there was a big family get together. For the eight years of my marriage, I was so immersed in my relationship that I was not even sure whether my career was important or not. I gloriously flirted with the idea that I could have a career while still be a happy housewife who kept a good home, raised kids, and had great family occasions.

All that changed the day that truck came from the wrong side of the road and crashed into our car, changing the direction of our lives forever. Suddenly I had nobody with who to bounce off an idea, discuss a challenging situation at work with, or ask for help to understand a new concept. He was brilliant but looking back, I think he realized how dependent I was on him. ‘I am not the best at everything Renu’, he would say. ‘Learn to look for the right person for the right thing and you will always get the right feedback and guidance’. I laughed at him then but when he went out of our lives so suddenly, I truly realized the need for self-dependence and the value of reaching out to people.

When he passed away, I had no time to brood, to worry that I was not giving enough attention to my children. Working long hours was not a choice but a need so that I could raise you with all the things that your young lives needed and would need ahead in life. And if I survived the dark periods of grief and the unfairness of life, it was because I was blessed with a family who stood by me solidly. Your aunt, my sister, is my soul mate, the woman who held my hand through the difficult times, talking to me, staying silent when I needed to look inwards, and intuitively leading me to discover the healing powers of Reiki to soothe my battered soul. My parents stepped into our lives, reassuring me with their kind presence and their support of everything that I did. My father is the rock of my life, someone who has always stood by me, asking no questions. He does not think he has done me a favour by being there for me all through these years, often putting my needs ahead of his. For him, it was the most natural thing to do, an extension of his role as a father. At fifty, I continue to be his little daughter. My brother opened up a new world in my life by literally holding my hand and taking to me our Guru, Sri Sri Muralidhara Swamigal. He has been an emotional anchor and takes so much pride in everything that I achieved. My friends from across the world wrote to me and kept in touch, giving me courage to face the long journey ahead of me. I have got a great deal of support from friends and my extended family, for my early loss, for which I am eternally grateful.