Remembering a life well lived

THE loss of a parent, even if at a ripe old age, is hard to accept. But as images flash past the mind’s eye and snatches of conversations and anecdotes refresh the memory, one cannot but marvel at the man whose life was well lived.

The winter of 2023 marked the end of the journey for my father, Brij Mohan Khanna. Born in 1931 in Lahore, he grew up seeing his father play an active role in the freedom movement. The home of Durga Das Khanna in Khajoorwali Gali had become a hub of revolutionary activities; Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev and Rajguru dropped by for clandestine meetings and to plot and plan against the British. Their passionate conversations, hushed whispers and agitated arguments as they updated each other on what was happening outside were the stuff my father grew up listening to from his father. Then he would recount how his mother looked for pieces of jewellery that went missing, only to be told later that they had been pawned or liquidated to support the activities of the freedom fighters. My grandmother effortlessly eased into the role of confidante and supporter of my patriotic and idealistic grandfather. The only time the family saw her break down was when my grandfather narrowly escaped the gallows after being framed in a case of abetment to assassinate then Governor of Punjab. He spent two years behind bars, waiting for justice to prevail.

These early experiences of his parents’ tribulations to see India awaken into freedom shaped the course of my father’s life. He groomed himself as a taxation specialist. In the 1950s, he and his family were one of the first to call Chandigarh their home, where they moved from Shimla; my grandfather became the Chairman of the Legislative Council of Punjab. As Chandigarh expanded, my father’s desire to contribute to his community also grew. He lived by the mantra, ‘Do as much for as many as you can’. In memory of his father, he helped set up the Durga Das Foundation, which offered a range of charitable initiatives on health, education and childcare. He supervised its working and stayed in touch with many families, whose lives he touched.

Much of his philanthropic work was done quietly with us not getting a whiff of it. When we set up Strawberry Fields Schools, prior to the government mandate of accommodating students from economically weaker sections, he had already ‘negotiated’ with me to ensure a certain number of students to be integrated every year. Often enough, it was through visitors who came to thank him for handling their taxation issues or resolving long-standing legal matters pro bono that we learnt of his ‘silent brand of philanthropy’ that continued till his last day. His aide-in-arms was always my mother, who gave him the support he needed as we all got so caught up with our lives. I think if he had a choice to live life all over again, he would not want to change anything. That truly exemplifies the ‘life well lived’ credo!