My Facebook post this morning:
My aunt, KUSUM DEBI (V. Kusumanjali Devi), the Chennai-based artist, my father's sister, a Princess of Kurupam, passes away:
With profound sorrow, one announces the demise of my father's sister, Kusum, who died in Chennai on the 1st of October, 2023.
Born on 11th November, 1950, in Kurupam, she was the daughter of Raja V. Durgaprasad Deo and Rani Sobhalata Devi of Kurupam.
Educated in Madras and Baroda, Kusum (Nini Ata to me), studied and taught Fine Art.
Schooled at the prestigious Presentation Convent, Church Park, Mardas, she went on to do a Bachelor's Degree in Fine Arts at the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary (FMM)'s college, Stella Maris, in Madras, and a Master's Degree in Fine Arts at MS University, Baroda.
Kusum taught Fine Arts in Stella Maris College, Madras for a while. The renowned Chennai Artist also exhibited her work in New Delhi in the 1980s at places like the Lalit Kala Academy, and at Triveni, participating in group and solo exhibitions, and was interviewed by Doordarshan in the 1980s.
The themes of her work were initially mostly from Nature, using oil paints on canvas with palette knives.
She taught drawing, painting, and art to students at her home studio for many years.
In her early life, she'd also experimented with designing and producing leather bags and purses under the brand name of Sheepsling, hiring craftspeople to work out of a home garage in Chennai, and availed of the opportunity to pursue a brief course in Ceramics in the USA in the 1980s.
Kusum was loved by her friends and family, had a large heart, and was often a self-appointed "sounding-board" for all her friends and extensive circles who needed a sympathetic ear or word of advice.
She also had great empathy for the downtrodden. An urban princess from a bygone era, she made it her earthly endeavour to extend the goodness that she associated with being a princess to all those around her.
Cooking was one of her therapeutic exercises, and she revelled in dishing out large quantities of gourmet food on festive occasions, for the domestic staff, friends, relatives, and anyone else on whom she chose to bestow her indulgence. This, while living the life of a regular citizen in a modest apartment in Chennai, driving her own car, and standing in queues in government offices to pay routine bills.
On one of her Orissa-living stints, she even experimented with the home-pickle-making business with a cousin of hers, but the world of art and Chennai drew her back.
Kusum suffered form diabetes, and in the last few months of her life, had been hospitalised on occasion. A toe had been amputated. Once out of the hospital, where she had been attended to by my mother, Preeti, and my other aunt, Sucharu, she was at home, in the expert care of nurses.
Two of her sisters, Pushpa and Sucharu, had visited her from outstation a few days before her demise. She passed away peacefully in the presence of her friend and neighbour, Ruby.
Family members rushed to Chennai the day she expired. The funeral is scheduled for this morning in Chennai.
My childhood memories of Nini Ata have always been fond ones. My first cousins from my father's side, and I, used to be most entertained by her on our holiday trips to Chennai. Childhood friends from Delhi might remember her as Abracadabra, as that was the "magic chant" that she used to use, to have little gifts miraculously fall into our laps while we closed our eyes, clapped, and sang out her rhyme! It became a word of it's own: Lets do Abracadabra!
I had the opportunity to learn about great art and artists, and sit with her during her art shows at galleries in Delhi when I was a very young school student, asking gallery-goers to write in the Visitors' Book, and explaining her paintings to the good folk of New Delhi way back when.
Nini Ata was married for a short while long ago, but returned from Calcutta to Chennai and lived with her mother.
She was very attached to her mother, and was emotionally devastated when her mother passed away ten years ago. Poetically, just the day before Nini Ata passed away, a special final Shraadh Pooja had been conducted in my grandmother's memory at a famous temple, a Shaktipeeth, near a river in Odisha, by our family.
Nini Ata was a feisty soul, did not always mince her words, and was always very clear about what her opinions on matters were. She regaled in watching political news programmes on television, and telephonically articulating her media-inspired opinions on varied subjects. She had her loyalties.
Nini Ata loved all her eight nieces and nephews equally. Old-fashioned "good manners", politeness and effortless sophistication were her hallmarks for those who knew her.
I write on the birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi, and remember one of the inspirational cards and quotes Nini Ata had sent me when I was a child. It was a hand-made card, cut out in the shape of a shoe, and it said something to the effect of: I was complaining that I had no shoes, until I saw a boy without legs.
On many of our lengthy phone conversations in the past, I'd communicated to her, my world view on the role of society in an individual's life, and the role of the state. I pointed out to her, how I've always worked to achieve all the elements of Free Healthcare for All in my work, and what the many elements of free health care ought to include.
Strangely, I had been considering attending a social event in Chennai on the date that she passed away, but finally decided not to go for the Chennai chapter of my St. Stephen's College alumni reunion.
As I write in solitary splendour at The Fort, Kurupam, and as she transfers to other realms, lighting up the space in the crematorium, probably as you read, You Can Have The Cadaver, I say...Abracadabra!!!!!!!!
I share with you, a photograph of a photo of her, that adorns one of the walls here at The Fort, Sivvannapeta, Kurupam, where she was born.
- V. Shruti Devi (Kusum's brother's daughter)
