From Shirin

Baba and I got to know Tuti and Dilip once they came to live in Delhi after they were married. I can’t remember the date, but Dilip was with coal. He was full of enthusiasm for his work. They moved several time, but always in South Delhi and Tuti would turn the house into a beautiful home within a day or two! They would have lavish parties and we’d meet all sorts of people.

They were living in Chirag Delhi and the three of them made such a beautiful family.

Then Dilip decided to go on his own. But unfortunately he didn’t do well at all because he didn’t have the shrewdness to do business. He lost a lot of money but always maintained that he had made good friends. He joined CII and was doing well, but somehow or another got done down by a colleague and he never recovered after that. Gradually he seemed to lose interest in getting another job and started spending hours in front of the TV – so much so that latterly he wasn’t able to walk and refused to walk with a cane or a walker. He hadn’t been well for a while before he gave up on 19 January, 2012 after, among other things, hearing that Baba had passed away.

What I like to remember about Dilip is his gusto for life. He would get everyone to sing and dance at a party and was always the conductor. He was such fun to be with. Baba and he would have arguments at the slightest provocation, fight and then make up, although Baba would say “It’s impossible to talk to Dilip – I’m never going to talk to him again”! Dilip would needle people and when they gotworked up he would say ”But I never said anything!”

His greatest achievement theatrically was to product ‘The Desert Song’ in Calcutta with Tuti in the lead. Till the end he wanted to get people together to sing, but it never came to fruition.

I will miss Dilip.

From Oontie

My earliest recollection of Dilip alias Dippoo goes back to 1945 or so when Dad and I went to Calcutta and stayed with Uncle Noelti, Aunty Tasa and Reba.  Even then Dippoo was good at the piano and the envy of the likes of us.  Then the Sirkars came to Delhi when we lived at 20 Mahadeo Rd.  Fun days for us youngsters.  Dippoo was ever the prankster attaching bits of things to Inky's (dog) tail.  Dippoo used to tease me when I was courting Honey by singing that World War II song, "Honey have a (sniff), have a sniff on me, Honey have a (sniff on me).

When Dippoo and Tuti came to make their home in Delhi, we met at parties and Christmas where Dippoo was always the permanent MC and star performer.  He had an uncanny knack with the piano and was amazing at getting people to sing his tune as it were. He could hit the right key and bring rhythm into the music with such ease.   He always impressed me with his interests in theatre, music, and arty stuff.  I expected him to take part in many more theatre events in Delhi as he had a penchant for that. 

A carol singing party without Dilip will ever remain a vacuum.

The first two messages are from Rahul and Rohit Brijnath - Dilip called them “his sons”.

Dearest Tutti

I am so very sad to have heard the news about Dilip from Ma last week.  I was away in America on a work trip and I am sorry that it has taken so long for me to write to you

Dilip was a larger than life character in our young lives in Calcutta (and in Delhi) and I will always have very fond memories of his endless kindness to us.  Your homes in Raja Santosh road and music parties – the Desert Song - being rescued from Delhi railway station and being stuffed full of tandoori chicken at Moti Mahal - Greater Kailash when we were bigger and could have a grog with him – his teasing song and laughter – his great love for life and all those around him …..

I am sorry I have not seen you in recent years.  My travels to India are less frequent and often a mad annual dash with my wife Fiona and boys Alexander 8 and Jack 6 to DD to see the parents for a rushed week.  We live happily in the wilds of Devon in England

This comes to you and Supriya with much love at this difficult time  He did live life and made ours richer for knowing him

Rahul

This email was sent by Rahul Brijnath 

My dearest Tutti,

My parents told me yesterday about Dilip and I am so very sorry. My mind is alive with memories of him, of Calcutta days when I was a boy at jam sessions at your home and peeking into rehearsals of The Desert Song. For me he will always be the vibrant man who picked me up at Delhi station and took Rahul and me home where both of you gave us such love. 

I know his last few years have been hard and the only thing I can wish for as my parents and their generation climb into their 80s is that no one suffers too much. 

Sarah and I send you and Supriya all our love.

Binks

This is from Bobo

My dear Tuti,

Mummy phoned with the sad news of Dilip's passing away on Friday. We had seen him in good spirits at Christmas time, and so it was very unexpected, even though one was aware that he was not in good health.

Dilip was perhaps the first of Mummy's cousins whom we three children got to know well, and he always remained a favourite. Keli sent me an email when she got the news, and she remembered, just as I did, those long ago days in Calcutta, when he turned up on his scooter, told us stories, took us out for movies and ice cream, and all the things children love so much.

The last so many years, I haven't been in Delhi that much, and so we didn't get to meet very often. But it was always a jolly occasion when we did, and the Sirkar parties were very much looked forward to. Will always remember his singing, especially when his Stephanian choir friends were around.

It was sad recently to see him confined to home and not able to get around. We will miss him very, very much.

From far away, there isn't much help that one can give in a practical way, but if you need anything, please ask, and will do the best.

All the love to you and Supriya,

Bobo
Phone:093270-43614

Lola writes for the family web page

I find it difficult to write about my young cousins for a web page, because I can only think of them as alive – very alive, but will try to say a word about Dipu.

Dilip Sirkar was the son of my Mashima Tara and Noelti. His elder sister Reba passed away many years ago, but I’d known them almost since they were very small.

My mother, Aunt Trevie, used to refer to him affectionately as her `black boy’, and I also remember the dark little chap driving his father’s tumtum. More recently, the recollection is of him sitting in his comfortable chair in the corner of the room, nursing the drink at his elbow.

He had a deep rumble of a laugh and a great talent for music. Untrained as he was, he could strum a tune on the piano, and sing a lovely tenor. As a student of St. Stephen`s College, he enjoyed singing in the choir, and also participated in amateur theatricals. As Autolycus in a college production of Shakespeare’s `Twelfth Night’ I remember his looking rather desperately for a stage prop which wasn’t there!

Like other Sens, he had no great talent for business – good working for others, not so good as sole boss. In this he was compensated for by his wife Tuti – highly competent and efficient business woman and home-maker as she is.

We were in Kolkata for a few years on one of our numerous postings. The Sirkar home on Theatre Road was always a port of call. In those days, Dilip had a two-wheeler on which he would take my kids for rides – until Tuti came along! They fondly remember those days as I do too.

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