Memories And Musings : Tales Of A Palakkad Boy - R.S.Vaidyanathan

Introduction

Jaya and my daughters have been encouraging me to write about my life's journey. I was hesitating about putting my thoughts into words and weave a sort of tapestry. I wondered, though I have passed four score years and seven, have I done something wonderful or eye catching that I can write about? One evening I felt differently, that made me start putting down my memories. I remembered being a fairly good speaker in my Rotary Club meetings and technical associations. I also remembered that I used to keep the audience in attention, especially when using anecdotes to laugh at myself, and could see them laugh. When you reach a stage in life, I suppose, laughing at yourself without malice or sarcasm shows a semblance of maturity. So here I go.

January 2022/ Gurgaon

Chapter 1: A boy from a small village in Kerala

I was born in a remote village in Palakkad in Kerala, and grew up bound by prevailing customs and behavioural patterns peculiar to villages in those days - the early 1940s. Conservatism was the norm, and even my father's siblings were very much against his simple thinking of educating his children, both sons and daughters even for high school, not to talk of college or University! Villagers were aghast at such foolish thinking. The going faith was, first, that daughters should be married off and second, that sons should only aspire for a job where their father or other senior relatives are working, where the father or relatives could put in a word to their superiors, to give a footing; preferably in government jobs, pensionable, though the salary may be measly and the job pretty servile!!

My father baulked at the idea. He stood his ground and I graduated, as did my brother. Our sisters completed their high school education culminating in Class 10 - Senior School Leaving Certificate in those days, much to the chagrin of villagers and his own siblings. He was branded an upstart since he was just a Telegraph cum Post Master!!! He had a transferable job, moving place once every three years, or sometimes even on shorter durations. My mother was a very solid support, absolutely uncomplaining. In all postings, since he was a combined hand, Telegraph Master as well as Post Master, and required to attend to emergencies, free accommodation was provided by the government. So, there were no expenses on house rent, water and electricity - a big boost to the salary, to support a large family of seven!! And our education continued.

My oldest sister Bagyam got married in 1944, when I was ten. Appa was Post Master in Pattikkarai Big Bazar Post Office at that time. A big office with over 50 staff members. Appa was popular with the business community in Big Bazaar, including the Chettiars and Moothans. The former mainly dealt in groceries, and the latter in gold and ornaments. In those days bereft of mobile phones and computers and internet, the only fast communication mode was the telegram, controlled by the Post Offices. The Bullion Exchange located in Bombay of yore was busy like the present-day stock exchanges. The Moothans, dealers in gold, had to send daily telegrams to the Exchange. The Big Bazaar branch of the Post Office used to handle from 30 to 70 telegrams every day. The good part of it was that the Telegraph Office was to accept Telegrams at normal rates up to 5 pm only. Later than that, the option to accept the Telegrams was with the Telegraph/Post Master. The rules stipulated that such telegrams accepted were to be charged One Rupee extra, the same going directly to the Telegraph Master, officially permitted!! As I look back, it was as if the Moothans decided to help Appa, out of public glare, as the majority of the Bombay bound telegrams were brought in after 5.15 p.m. by their assistants!!! These would being an extra 30 to 50 rupees for Appa almost every day through the week! So much for goodwill and understanding.

As I completed my graduation in Chemistry, Appa encouraged me to study Hindi, examinations for which were conducted by the Hindi Prachar Samiti, located in Madras. Local centres in Palakkad conducted classes and examinations. I passed the examination up to the third stage, the Rashtrabasha examination, and got a fairly good grooming on the written part, due to my background strength of Sanskrit as optional subject in graduate classes.

Chemistry proved to be my career, providing bread and butter while Hindi helped me throughout my career and life, all in other parts of India, except the South!! For a man who was born and grew up in Kerala, I wonder if my father had foreseen this for me!

Chapter 1A: Two Anecdotes from Palakkad Days

Schooling with Chembakam, my sister

Chembakam is two years younger to me. We used to go to school together. She was in Moyan Girls' School and I was in the Municipal school. Her school used to come first, about 15 minutes walk from our village Ramanathapuram and I had to walk another 10 minutes to reach mine. I was perhaps 10 or 11 years old at that time. School timings were 10 am to 1 pm and 2 pm to 4 pm. Our Amma's instructions were that both of us should carry our afternoon lunch of curd rice and pickles, and meet at the lunch interval to eat it together. I used to object even at the thought of carrying my lunch dabba, along with my books. Amma was however adamant. Appa came into the picture. He admonished me but came with a solution. He said, you take your food in a tiffin carrier, whatever Amma gives. Near Moyan Girls School, there is Tarakkad village where my friend Rama Iyer and his family live. In the morning, before reaching Chemba's school, go to Rama Iyer's house and keep the tiffin box there. In the afternoon, Vaithu can walk down to their house from his school, where Chemba also can, join. I will ask Rama Iyer to provide plates if you need. Both of you eat together, wash the carrier and keep it there. Vaithu will collect it on his way back from school, come to Chemba's school and both of you return back home in the evening. These were airtight directions, meant to be just obeyed!

We started the exercise. I carried the tiffin carrier, me half way and Chemba another half way. We used to deposit the carrier at Rama Iyer's, and then Chemba would proceed to her school, and I to mine. Slowly, I think, the male ego took control of me and I asked Chemba to carry the carrier all the way, with the promise that I carry the empty one on way back. For a few days, this was ok. Chemba did not like this arrangement and the old system of half-way carrying started. But ego is something that I took long time to shed. The first half while carrying, I used to keep the carrier just on the road, and walk ahead, insisting that she carry the same. She used to start crying but would walk back, pick up the carrier and walk sobbing. But she never complained to Appa or Amma. For them, the arrangement was just going on fine. Did it make me happy? elated? I do not know. But the system continued for almost a year or so. I feel very bad and sad, now, that I made her cry.

Rama Iyer was a clerk in the Taluk Office and used to go to office. Iyer's wife and her two daughters-in-law lived there. Since the father and sons were at work during the day, we used to get to meet these three ladies only. Iyer's wife must have been around 50 years of age, while the daughters-in-law must have been in their early twenties. Sweet, good-looking girls, but as I recall after all these years, I always saw a look of sadness in their eyes, some yearning. They used to smile, and bring us the plates for eating, sat near us and watched as both of us ate and washed the vessels. One was Savitri and the other Janaki. What affectionate children, they used to talk among themselves. They asked for our names. Janaki said, Vaidyanathan looks exactly like my brother. Savitri used to smile.

After about a week or so, one day, the mother-in-law (Iyer's wife) had gone out to a neighbour's house. So it was only four of us, Savitri, Janaki, Chemba and me were at home, during the lunch break time. Savitri and Janaki stood by our side as we were ready to go back to school. Looking hesitatingly and with eyes looking here and there as if with fear. Janaki blurted out: I will call you Vaithi; she said. "Vaithi, we need some help from you. Here are Eight Annas. Please get us post-cards from the post office". I looked at her blankly. "We want to write to our parents. After writing we will give it to you for putting in the letter box. Will you help us?" But, she continued, mami, (meaning Mother-in-law, Iyer's wife) should not know anything about this. She will be very angry. We are afraid of her. Chemba and I looked at each other. A silent understanding. I took the money. My first ever visit to a post office for work. I used to visit Appa's office, but not on work. But I knew where stamps and postcards were sold. I bought the postcards, kept them between the school books, and gave them to Janaki the next day, making sure that Mami was nowhere near. A secret deal was struck. We get the postcards, and put them in the letterbox when they wrote the letters and gave it back to us. No questions, no answers. Our job done. A bright smile from Savitri and Janaki indicating, THANK YOU. They used to ask us to get the cards once every month or so. This went on for about two or three months.

One afternoon, the storm blew without notice. We were just getting ready to go back to school after taking our food, and Savitri and Janaki were nowhere to be seen. Mami suddenly emerged with a stick in her hand, eyes blazing. "Enkitta Poyie chollathengo. Adippeain. Appa kitta cholluven. Nee thane, intha pongalukku card vaangi konduvanthai?? Ippochollu" (Don't tell me a lie. I will beat you. I will tell your father. You brought the postcards for these girls, meaning Savitri and Janaki. Tell me just now.) Both of us were scared. We just ran out and to school. The tiffin box was left in Iyer's place. We came home in the evening and related the whole episode to Appa and Amma. Appa was not angry but asked us why we did it? I said that the Akkas (sisters) were looking sad, and I wanted to help them. Amma intervened saying that possibly the Mami did not want the daughters-in-law to write to their parents. The girls must have wanted the postcards to write to them and asked for Vaithu's help. It must have sounded logical for Appa. Our tiffin breaks at Tarakkad Iyer's house stopped. We each carried our own tiffin box, and had it with friends in our schools only. We continued to go together to the school and back. We did not meet anyone in Iyer's family, including Savitri and Janaki. At this point of time, after so many years, it is only dark, silent memories. Seeing the trend in the present-day TV shows, we escaped the eye of the storm in a typical Saas-Bahu story; and in villages, it could end in violence. I only remember how we used to hide postcards from the post office before giving it to them and how their written letters were taken out safely to be posted in the letterbox. Secret operations! We felt right in helping Savitri and Janaki, and Chemba was my unwitting, innocent collaborator!

Pogonotomy

The Oxford Dictionary says, Pogonotomy, means "Shaving or styling the beard". I like the word so much that I extend it to the operation of Hair cutting/Styling too. Maybe a bit unorthodox, but it is there. Tonsorial for Tonsure would perhaps have been more apt terms, but I prefer POGONOTOMY.

In 1940/1950, from our village Ramanathapuram in Palakkad, the hair cutting saloons were located in Sultanpet or Gandhi Bazaar, a good distance of 3 miles (4.8 km)- far away for a walk, and a haircut would cost Rs.2/-. The Village Barber, Chinnapayyan, presented the comparative advantage of coming home, and doing the haircutting/styling for just Four Annas! Ofcourse this meant we could not enjoy the revolving chairs of the Saloons, or the paraphernalia of covering with an apron or any fancy gadgets for the hair-cuts. Chinnapayyan would come simply armed with scissors, a comb and a bowl of water. Chinnapayyan (meaning "young boy" in Tamil) was around forty years old, but was the youngest son of his Father and hence this fond name. As I look back I am surprised that at my age of six or seven I used to call him Chinnapayya, to tell him to come home the next morning around 7 am, to attend to my Father and me to do the hair-cutting.

Usually, I was the first one to be attended to. He used to call me "Vaithu Aiyyare", with some respect thrown in for our Brahmin family. We children never realised these nuances then. Appa used to tell him to give me a close crop, make the hairs as short as possible. I was happy as some of my friends in the village used to have a completely well-shaven head with a small tuft at the back, as befits a young Brahmin boy!! Somehow, I did not take to it and Appa was a big sport and support in this. I could comb my hair in style, with a side parting of hair on the scalp, as some boys in the school used to do. Small, but sustaining delights.

The seating for the tonsorial operation was a small wooden plank, slightly raised from the floor, with wooden supports, which we used to call "Palagai". Chinnpayyan would sit in front of me on his haunches, with my head almost resting on his knees. I had to put my head on his knees and the session would start. Chinnapayyan, used to look this side and that, to make sure that Appa was nowhere near, and start the juicy village gossips, as the comb surveyed the scalp and the scissors started cutting the hairs. How Parameswara Iyer and his wife used to quarrel over purchases and the costs, the wife being more liberal would like to spend, and Iyer would get annoyed. How the Maami living in the house just opposite ours, was not fairly treated by her mother in law, and how the mother and son used to quarrel over this. Nothing of interest to me, but he would go on. I specifically remember one instance, where my uncut hairs literally stood up straight!! This was when he told me that Gouri, daughter of a teacher, was kissed by Mani, in the precincts of the Siva temple in the village. As I look back, I wonder how clandestine it was, when Chinnapayyan could gossip about it. He followed up by cautioning me, "Vaithu Aiyyare, Appakitte chollathengo"! ("Don't tell Father"). 

I kept quiet, but was shaken by the mayhem in the village the next day!! We were familiar with Gouri's and Mani's families. Appa was generally respected and nobody used to stand up against him. Gouri's Father, a Teacher, was furious and was in tears. He came to Appa with his Brother and asked what he should do. Gouri was about 15 years old while Mani would have been around 18 or so, I guessed. As rumours got around, two factions grew up in the village, as it happens in such matters even today, one, accusing Gouri in vile and uncharitable terms, and another Mani, calling him a vagabond, about which the accusers said they were aware of, since long. Appa asked the teacher, Veerakutti, if I call both the children here together and question them, have you any objection? Although confused, he said, he has no objection. Appa called Mani's mother, who promptly told him "I have already talked to him and slapped him also". Mani's father was not alive.

Appa, Mani's Mother, and Gouri's Father, met in our house along with both Mani and Gouri. Appa only said, "Gouri and Mani, you are not young babies, anymore. If something like this has happened, it is a shame for your families. Tell me openly what happened exactly." Mani opened up: "Maama, I go the Siva temple everyday after bathing in the village tank. That day Gouri also was there, plucking flowers from the Chembaruthi tree. The flowers were at a little height, and she was jumping to catch hold of two flowers with a small twig. She could not, and fell down. Her elbow was bruised by the fall, and as she was trying to get up, she hurt her fingers, and there was blood. I took her hands, and blew hard on her bruised finger. I do not know how there is a rumour that I kissed her. You may ask Gouri. She is here only."

Silence. Gouri simply stood, weeping. Appa, asked her, "Is this what happened, Gouri ?" Sobbing, she said, "Yes, Maama, this is what happened", and showed her bandaged finger, and the elbow and ankle where she was hurt by her fall. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

There was no sign of Chinnapayyan for the next few days. Appa could guess it though. Later, another day when he came for the usual Pogonotomy session, Appa asked him "Ennada, innaiki enna, pudubootham pannaporai?" (What new nuisance you are bringing up today?) Chinnapayyan was silent, but I could see him looking accusingly at me. But I had not told Appa. How do I share such juicy stories with him!! I do not know with how many Vaithus like me in the village Chinnapayyan had shared this gossip with! The fact was that the whole village was agog, pointing fingers at him only! I knew I would be missing all the luscious village gossips from him henceforth, colourfully layered! My loss!!

That incident started a fixation for me on shaving and haircutting, which I extended to hair-dying and hairstyling, till I lost all my hair and stand bald today. But memories stick. So much for Pogonotomy. I like the word. Laughter is the Best Medicine!

Chapter 2: Aatma Nirbhar!! Swadeshi!!

After my graduation, I spent a short period with my brother Ambi where he was working, first in Delhi and then in Calcutta. I had also started looking at advertisements and applied for jobs. One such was for the post of a Laboratory Chemist in a vanaspati factory in Maharashtra. A Box Number advertisement. I had no knowledge of the advertiser, location of the factory or any other details. After suspense and interminable wait for almost a month, I got a letter from Berar Swadeshi Vanaspati, located in Shegaon, Maharashtra. It was an Appointment Letter, offering me the post of Laboratory Chemist on a monthly salary of Rs.110/- with free furnished bachelor accommodation. There was no interview! Later after joining, I found that the Manager, one Mr.Lalvani was impressed by my application, where I had mentioned that I got the First Prize for the Best Paper presented in the College Chemical Society, and had overruled an interview. I still happen to preserve this letter! 

Overjoyed, I conveyed the news to my brother Ambi and Appa. Appa was happy and asked me to accept the job, while Ambi started the exercise to locate the place Shegaon in Maharashtra!! We asked friends. One day, as I was returning home from my brother's office in Waterloo Street, I spied the Tourism office in Esplanade, and on the spur of the moment gathered courage and entered the office. The man in charge was kind and smiling, took out a big book, which looked like a dictionary, and searched for Shegaon. He found it, on the Calcutta Bombay rail line, off Nagpur, towards Bombay. The Gajanan Maharaj Temple located there was a tourist attraction. Armed with this knowledge, we located the place in the Railway Time Table: Howrah Bombay Mail departed from Howrah around 8 pm and reached Shegaon after a 27-hour run from Howrah via Nagpur. There was tremendous excitement in all of this, and my career was launched. My brother saw me off at the station. I was twenty years old, in December 1954, entering as it were, a new life and a New Year, away from known people and known surroundings, going to a new style of living, with different language and culture.

The train reached Shegaon late in the night, around 11 pm. I got down on the platform with my small tin box of clothes and a holdall (a must- have in those days for train travel). There were small oil lamps aloft steel poles, and a lone porter. He looked at me and asked me something, possibly in Marathi. It was not Hindi, I could make out. I blurted, "Berar Swadeshi Vanaspati jaana hai". He gave me a blank look and walked on. I walked behind him, with my tin box and holdall. He stood near an open room, with a board outside, saying "Assistant Station Master" (ASM). I looked in, but there was no one there. After a few moments, the ASM entered holding the Green Flag after flagging off the train, from which I had got down just now, on to Bombay. He looked at me with a questioning look. I told him I have to go to "Berar Swadeshi Vanaspati". He looked confused. In Hindi and faltering English, he said, "There is no place like that here. You have come to a wrong place." On an impulse I opened my box and showed him the letter of appointment. He still wore a blank look, and then chose to smile. He might have been in his thirties. "There are no trains now at night" he said. "You can sleep in Waiting Room; in the morning the Station Master will come and we will see. The next train is at 9am in the morning!!!". I went to the waiting room, nervous at this start and practically got no sleep.

Early morning at around 5 am the next day, I came out of the Waiting Room on to the platform and looked around. Just outside the station almost bang opposite was a big horizontal board, almost 10 to 15 feet long, and 2 to 3 feet wide, with blue background and white protruding letters "BERAR SWADESHI VANASPATI". Did my heart miss a beat? I went to the Assistant Station Master's room. He was just getting up, and I excitedly told him that the factory is just outside the station. He did not look surprised or shocked. "Oh, that! That is a Dalda karkhana. You were asking for some other name. We all know it is there! You should have said Dalda Karkhana." And thus, I had my first brush with colloquial Hindi in a Marathi background. 

By around 6 am, armed with my box and holdall, not too heavy, I climbed up the ladder of the overbridge and came down to the general waiting room, filled with many people in different dresses, and men mostly in dhoti and turban. The dhotis were not the Kerala type of wrap arounds, more like the soman or panchakaccham (dhoti generally worn on festive occasions or during rituals) of longer length and width. Taking in all the sights, I looked at the tea shop in the room, with a big board announcing "Theerath Ram Sharma" - Railway Caterer. A genial white-haired person with a greying moustache stood at the counter. I liked him immediately, for no known reasons. He smiled and called me "Bhai Saheb! naya aaye hain kya?" – (Are you new here?). "Dalda karkhana", I intoned. He asked "Naam?" and got no answer from me!! "Name?", someone nearby said. A young man, maybe of my age. "Yeh mera beta hai" (this is my son), said Theerath Ram Sharma, the genial moustached man. "Aaapka Naam?" (your name?) he repeated. "Vaidyanathan" I said. "Oh. Madrassi hain kya? Aaiyey, bahut khushi hui aap se milke" (Oh, you are a Madrasi? Please come – am very happy to meet you). And so, I entered Shegaon, into a new life, amidst new surroundings, new faces, new language and a store of raw courage, maybe inherited from my father. Hot jalebis, kachoris and good cup of tea – "kadak meethi (strong and sweet)" he said. I offered him money. "Nahi, aap hamare mehmaan hai. Aaj paisa nahin lenge. Mera beta aapko factory chod dega!!' (No, you are our guest; I shall not take money today; my son will take you to the factory) Freebies on entry!! Truth be told, I understood the words only much later, as at that moment my thoughts were only on the Dalda Karkhana!!) The time by now around 7.30am or so.

The watchman at the gate of the factory gave me a not too unfriendly look. I told him I have to see the Manager. He smiled and replied. I understood what he told me. "It is too early for the Manager. I will take you to the quarters where the officers live". It was about a 10-minute walk. The watchman accompanied me, took the box and holdall and presented me at the house of the Chief Chemist, K.L.Khabhya. My immediate superior I thought, for a Laboratory Chemist! It was not to be like that. I was way down in the hierarchy, with a Deputy Chief Chemist, Shift Chemists and Laboratory-In-charge, under whom I was to start my new life. Khabhya smiled and welcomed me. His wife peeped out and two children came out and looked at me curiously. Everything seemed to be organised. "I will send you to the quarters allotted to you. Come to the factory at 10 am", he said, and asked the watchman to take me to my new abode.

A wooden door, leading to a corridor about 5 feet long and 8 feet wide, took me to an open verandah and on to the room, bachelor accommodation. Two wooden cots with coir meshing, a chair, a small table and a fresh clay jar and a clay tumbler greeted me. My new home. The watchman took me outside to the corridor to show me the "sandaas" and the "nahaane ka ghar". It took some time to digest the language and understand that he was showing me the latrine and bathing place. I nodded.

Going to the factory at 10 am, the first one to greet me was Lalaji, the Time Keeper, his office was just inside the gate. He was maybe in his fifties. I liked him on the first look. On to the laboratory with the familiar long work table, the test-tubes, the Soxhelet apparatus, the Kipp's apparatus and electric heater, Bunsen Burners, and a new instrument Tintometer, used to measure the colour of Vegetable Oils, used in Vanaspati manufacture. It took me back to my college laboratory surroundings. After about 10 minutes, a tall young man, maybe around 25 years old, walked in with a big smile. "So, you have come. Welcome. I am the Laboratory in charge. My name is Nemade"!! No more Subramaniams or Krishnamoorthys or Ramanathans for me as friends!! Another person came in, "Kharkani", Nemade introduced him. "He is a Shift Chemist". Then Khabhya entered and he was greeted with respect by all in the Laboratory. "Nemade", he said, "Vaidyanathan babu is our new Chemist. Show him all the jobs to be done regularly and properly". All in Hindi, I followed the tone of the conversation. More people entered, some with oil samples in bottles and beakers, someone asking for the melting point of the sample, etc. I felt I could manage without much difficulty!!

Time went on and at about 1 pm, Nemade said, "let us go for lunch. It is in the complex where you are staying". The four of us went to a fairly big room. On one side there was a 10 feet wide platform, and firewood burning. The platform was about 1 foot high. Surrounding the platform, there were 8 or 10 steel plates, steel glasses and small steel cups (called katoris). Nobody divined that all these were new to me. "Maharaj", Nemade addressed the cook, sitting near the fireplace. "Aaj kya banaya?" (What have you made today?) "Roti, Daal aur Aaloo sabji" (Roti, lentils and potato curry), the person replied. We sat down. Dal was put in the Katoris, and aaloo on the plate and down came one Roti hot, fresh from the oven, on the plate!! "ghee laga diya," (have applied clarified butter) the Maharaj said and "dal me chonk bhi diya hai" (have garnished the lentils with fried spices also). Ramanathapuram Vaidyanathan had the first taste of wheat rotis and chonk wala dal!! As memories flood back after all these years, I feel happy, I did not fare too badly. More new faces, more new names. Matta, Talesara, Doshi, Joglekar, Karandikar, Khirwadkar, etc!! I liked Jadhav, the wild guffawing Central Excise Inspector. It was a Maharashtrian/ Marwari milieu. One regret, there was no curd or buttermilk. At the end of the meal, freshly roasted papad flew over from the "Maharaj" on to our plates. Lunch was over.

Afternoon, Nemade took me around the factory, a three storied setup. Steel ladders and steps with side rails, and a hissing sound all around and fairly hot ambience. It took me two days to understand that it is caused by steam generated by coal fired boilers, used for heating the oils for processing.

At a meeting with the workers in the "plant", as it was called, something clicked. I can manage these people, something told me, and I was "IN". A career which I had never dreamt of, went on to span over forty years, 1955 to 1996!! Climbing slowly and steadily up the ladder, Laboratory Chemist to Shift Chemist to Deputy Chief Chemist to Chief Chemist and Works Manager and finally Technical Director! and to cap it all, an Independent Director for over 20 years in the same company. Over the years, my work was recognised by peers, scientists and technologists, in National and International Technical Associations, visits to foreign countries, attending Technical Conferences. Moving shoulder to shoulder with well-known technologists, exchanging notes intelligently, absorbing new developments in Oil Technology and carving a place of respect, known for integrity in technology and added to that, worker management. In a sense the firm foundations of my career started slowly, silently and firmly in Shegaon.

 

Chapter 3: Hindi Vocabulary and Friends

The changeover from a South Indian setting to a place in Central India, with different languages and culture had its own attractions and pitfalls. My knowledge of hindi was rudimentary, in pronunciation and grammar. It created all round laughter, but till today, I do not remember anyone teasing me on this or ridiculing me. I took everything in my stride with a smile or a laugh!! And that was the end of it. The funniest I still remember was the difference between "TOOT (break) gaya" and "PHAT gaya", when a TEAR was observed in my shirt sleeve and I proffered the first, "TOOT gaya"!! There was loud laughter all around and a new young face in the group, chirped in, "Bhai Saab, you call the TEAR in a cloth "PHAT gaya", not "TOOT gaya". "laaiye, main theek kar deta hoon", he said as he extended his hand and took the shirt. A new nascent friendship developed. 

His name was Pratap Doshi, who had come to visit his cousin Khabhya, my boss here in Shegaon. His father, Doshi was a shift chemist in another Vanaspati factory located in nearby Pachora, about three hours by train towards Bombay. Khabhya's elder brother, another Khabhya, was also a Shift Chemist there. Pratap, maybe around my age, 21 or so, had come with the three daughters of the Senior Khabhya - Susheela, Lalli and Pushpa. Youngsters, and we all took to a mutual liking. On Pratap's prompting, they asked me what to call an elder brother. I said, in the South, elder brother is called "ANNA". Here we call brother as Bhaiya, chirped in the girls and from then onwards I became "ANNA BHAIYA" for almost all the staff and children living in the Factory Quarters. We became good friends, and as long as he was in Shegaon, he used to come and sit with me, and we spent time chatting in Hindi.

After about six months or so, he also joined the Shegaon Factory as a Laboratory Chemist, and I had the opportunity to train him. In between, some young boys chose to call me by the name KAKAJI, meaning father's younger brother. How this name came and stuck I am yet to comprehend. By that time, I was promoted as Shift Chemist in the factory. Was it due to my technical capability or man management? During the shifts I had about 30/35 workmen working under me as their Boss for 8 hours!! After a month or so, some workmen approached the Manager and Khabhya to move them to my shift!! Some were a bit unruly, "badmaash hain (they are mischievous)" Khabhya cautioned me, but I never refused anyone and there was overall approbation that the Madrassi Babu is a good chemist.

I was naturally happy and used to write to Appa in Palakkad with my monthly money order of Rs.40/-, my contribution to the family. He was very happy at my progress, and looked forward to my letters, Amma told me during my first visit to the village on my annual leave of 21 days. Appa related his experiences with different post offices and personnel, during his transfers, and urged me to follow some principles:

1. Do not be afraid of labour and workmen. They are also human beings like you and me.

2. Talk to them. Communicate. Try to understand their problems.

3. Help them out as much as possible

4. Even if unpleasant things happen, try not to be vindictive or opinionated beyond a certain limit.

5. Each human being has his own problems. Wherever you are help them if you can, but try not to harm them.

6. Always be compassionate. 

Firm foundations of HR Management, that stood by me through my tenure in Akola, Belghoria, Davangere, Shikaripur and Calcutta; and in spite of niggling irritations, added "BADA SAHEB" to the titles "Anna Bhaiya" and "Kakaji" of Shegaon. BADA SAHEB, I earned in CALCUTTA and RASOI- from the militant unionised workmen of the 70s and 80s in West Bengal.

The memory of my visit with the Khabhya family and Pratap, to Gajanan Baba Temple, and SreeKshetra Nagjari, a long winding Cave Temple dedicated to snakes, stands out from my Shegaon stay.

Chapter 4: Climbing up the ladder

About a year and a half of pleasant experience of job, friendship, and improving my Hindi vocabulary, I was popular. I felt I should go up the career ladder, earn more money. I heard about openings in another big vanaspati unit owned by the Birlas - Berar Oil Industries, located in Akola, about 50 km from Shegaon. I made the bold move of sending a letter to them and was called for an interview by the Production Manager B.S.K.Shastry. A handsome, cherubic faced and soft-spoken man, he asked me some questions on laboratory and chemicals, and offered me the post of Laboratory Chemist. The next interview was by B.M.Dalmia, who I later understood was the de facto Emperor in the factory, being in direct contact with the Senior Birlas. Since Shastry had recommended, I got appointed without much ado, on a monthly salary of Rs.170/-, a jump from Rs. 110/- at Shegaon. Bachelor accommodation in Ananda Niwas, walking distance from the factory. My immediate friendship was with Somany, the Store Keeper, Dhaniwal, a Junior Accountant and Mohata, of the Time Office. Mohata was also my roommate.

Technically, I got the approval of the Production Manager Shastry and his Deputy B.P.Agarwal. The Shift Chemists were Gavai, Rajwade and Mardikar. The Laboratory in charge was Balasubramanian, a tough no nonsense guy, and a good Chemist. He was a family man. He took a liking for me and I got trained in the intricacies of maintaining stocks and accounts properly, just like Chartered Accountants balancing their books (lessons which stood me in good stead, impressing the Factory owners in Davangere and later in Calcutta, where I was controlling the entire factory operations), apart from technical work, testing and analysis. I was put in charge of different departments in the factory and was the choice to occupy Laboratory in-charge seat whenever Balasubramanian used to go to Madras on leave. Friendships grew, popularity grew. There were some South Indian friends too, working in the railways, post office, etc., in Akola. Our talking in Malayalam or Tamil was a lot of fun to Somany and Dhaniwal, the languages being very strange to them, and they started calling me "DO-DO", in jest. As was my usual habit, I accepted it without demur.

The highlights of my stay in Akola, I remember vividly. The Deputy, Agarwal had come to the plant with six highly skilled and experienced operators. Gajadhar Mahabir, Sharma, and four more. I mention the names here along with Agarwal, because I faced a very unpleasant and unwanted brush with all of them later in my career in Davangere, an incident which I had never dreamt of. The Chemist in charge of the soap manufacturing section, was C.R.S. Iyer, was an experienced Soap Technologist. He taught me the rudiments of soap manufacture. His family was large with children of my age group and being from Kerala, a mutual affection and friendship developed. I started playing Table Tennis and Carrom, and was fond of reading and seeing movies with friends.

Five years just flew by. In between visits to Palghat, marriage of my younger sister Chemba, was on the cards. I was deputed by Appa to go to Bombay to see Seshadri, Chemba's husband to be, Akola being nearer to Bombay than Calcutta where my older brother Ambi was located. Akola to Bombay by train, on to Kurla where Seshadri was staying, approval and the marriage was fixed, much to the relief of my father.

Chapter 4A: Saga of Eggs!!

Verghese from Kerala was an overseer in a panchayat near Akola. We met in the Kerala restaurant and became friends. He was located in a rural setting, and commanded respect from local farmers and agriculture owners. One day he asked me whether I would like to have chicken and eggs which he could get freely from his location. I said NO to Chicken, but YES to Eggs, little realising, that he will land up with eggs in Anand Niwas, where I was accommodated, a strictly Vegetarian Marwari bachelor quarters. Verghese came one Sunday morning with about 35/ 40 eggs. I was sitting with Somany and Dhaniwal, both Marwari boys. We looked at each other. I sensed that they were not against eggs, but just like me were afraid of the Management and Dalmia the de facto Emperor! That week, incidentally, Dalmia's daughter was getting married on Thursday; Somany said, the mess will be closed, as everyone including the Maharaj will be busy at the wedding. Anand Niwas residents will be away at the wedding or at the factory.

So, Thursday was fixed when we could enjoy the eggs! The fear was that if we were to be caught with the eggs, it would be summary dismissal from service, as being a strict vegetarian, Dalmia would not tolerate it and the Birlas did not approve breaking of rules. The eggs were safely kept, with Mohata and one or two more let into the secret, and Thursday was the celebration day. A small kerosene stove was procured by Dhaniwal and Mohata got hold of a tawa (pan) and ladle and some plates from the mess stores.

I was a perfect novice with regard to doing anything with eggs. But Somany, Dhaniwal and Mohata appeared familiar. "Don't worry 'Do–Do'" I was assured, "nobody will know". The room door was firmly closed, double checking nobody was there in Anand Niwas, while the wedding shehnai and festivities were on in Dalmia's Bungalow, barely a quarter of a mile away. The stove was lit. Onions were cut and ready, Somany got some vanaspati from the kitchen.

Preparations went on smoothly, the time around 12 noon, the smell of egg omelette wafted around the room, with seven pairs of eyes looking at the stove and smelling, as Verghese took out the omelettes. We had procured tomato sauce also and were ready to enjoy the fare when there was an ominous knock on the door!! Knowing it to be my room, I heard someone shouting "Arrey 'Do-Do' kya ho raha hai, kya pakate ho? bahut khushboo aa raha hai" (Hi Do-Do, what is happening, what are you cooking? a pleasant odour is coming). My Hindi had considerably improved and I could recognise two of the voices, both Maharashtrians. My heart did miss a beat. I nodded at Somany and Dhaniwal and made bold to open the door! There stood four of my friends, all laughing and in a rollicking mood. "Arre, hamein bhi khilao, chupa rustam ho tum"!! (Hi, treat us also, you are a dark horse). All round laughter, more work for Verghese, more omelettes, there being no shortage of eggs!! And all of us heaved a big sigh of relief. Only requesting the latecomers not to publicise the incident. "Arre, hum paagal hain kya" (hi, are we mad), they said in unison. The egg saga was over. Our jobs were safe.

Each day brought new experiences. New learning and new understanding of techniques, processing and above all people management, both on the labour front as well as my colleagues. I was accepted as an equal and a capable Chemist. Five valuable years flew by, but the monthly salary was only increased to Rs.230 from the starting Rs.170!! In the 1950s and '60s there was a mushrooming of vanaspati manufacturing units all over India and demand for good Chemists. Searching for a new job, I started applying again and landed on a Calcutta advertisement for the post of Shift Chemist.

Chapter 5: New pastures and a brand-new journey

Meanwhile activities on the domestic front, my older brother Ambi's marriage was held, after Chemba's. He was settled in Calcutta and had a very wide circle of friends. Appa started searching for a bride for me, Ambi came with the proposal for the daughter of his friend V.A.P. Aiyar, who was a partner of AVM Film Distributors, distributor of southern films, located in Calcutta. After preliminary discussions and astrological confirmations, Appa and Ambi decided I should see the girl and agree to the alliance. Mutual meetings and without much ado, the alliance was settled. I would be marrying Jayalakshmi, daughter of V.A.P Aiyar of Calcutta. I instinctively liked Jaya and had a happy feeling at having her as my partner in life.

The year was around early 1960. I was hesitant because of my low salary at Akola and expected change to Calcutta. As if ordained by destiny, I got an appointment letter from Vegetable Products Ltd. Belghoria, Calcutta owned by a Marwari Group called Tantias. Funnily, there was no interview, for the simple reason, the General Manager and Chief Chemist of the Factory Aryendra Singh, was earlier in Pachora and had been following my career in Shegaon and Akola. Obviously satisfied, he had sent the appointment letter on a monthly salary of Rs.350/- with free furnished family accommodation, just what was needed for one who was about to get married.

In those days, there was a formality of the groom's family go to the bride's house to see and assess the bride. We went to 136B Rashbehari Avenue, where my father-in-law V.A.P.Aiyar was living. As we entered, music welcomed us. D K Pattammal's Shyamala Dandakam was playing on the gramophone. Appa, Amma, Ambi, Chembakam were all there. I saw Jaya for the first time. She sang a song- "Mere janam maran ke saathi", which I loved. Even today Jaya is never tired of relating how I was sitting there with bowed head, while she was looking at me. The fact is I liked her. She looked beautiful and serene. The marriage was agreed upon, and the date fixed was 17th January 1962.

I shifted from Akola to Belghoria and started working from around April 1961 or so. I was provided a two roomed flat with kitchen, bath, etc., on the ground floor. Ambi being familiar with Calcutta and living there in a nice flat with his wife, approved the accommodation happily. The news was conveyed to Appa/Amma and Aiyar family, and happiness all around. I was feeling jittery, now that I was to have a family of my own. I confided in Ambi and he encouraged me saying how Bagyam, Chemba and he himself have settled into family life.

I got a happy surprise one morning when a packet containing a lovely hand knitted grey sweater, landed in Belghoria, made by Jaya, my future life partner. I should have been jumping with joy but was very much a rustic boy, not very familiar with girls. I kept silent and did not even acknowledge the sweater, a fact which Jaya chooses to remind me of even today, after nearly 60 years. All the children are aware of the incident and laugh at it, but I definitely accept my inadequacy and immaturity at that time. A grand wedding, VIP's galore, including film personalities, it was like a long running happy dream. Satyajit Ray, A.V.M.Chettiar, apart from film actors and actresses. Jaya looked dazzling, radiant, full of smiles.

Settled in Belghoria with my wife Jaya, a new life started. We had a fulltime servant boy -Gulab, who helped Jaya in the kitchen and cleaning the house etc. Life started literally on a bed of roses. With beautiful furniture sent by Jaya's father, wooden cots with dunlopillo mattress, custom made wardrobe, refrigerator, not to speak of vessels and other family needs. The factory people were happy. The owner Tantia called us to his residence and gave one gold sovereign as a gift to Jaya. Time flew. In October 1962, our first daughter was born. Appa chose to name her Shantha. Jaya and myself were very happy, not to speak of Appa/Amma and Jaya's family.

The highlights of life here, was free electricity and free coal for cooking, which supplemented my salary. Appa and Amma came and stayed with us for some time. Amma could get a feel of her new daughter-in-law. Appa was still in service.

The factory was a much smaller than the one in Akola, with only vanaspati manufacture, but I had a higher salary and the accommodation. Colleagues and workmen were good. I had been cautioned by Somany and Dhaniwal about the militant tendencies of Bengali workers and the powerful Trade Unions of Bengal. The Shift Chemists worked on 8-hour shifts - 4 am to 12 noon, 12 noon to 8 pm and 8 pm to 4 am.

The chemists were all in the same building where we were staying. After the night shift, I used to come at 4 am, talk to the next Chemist living in an adjacent flat, handing over charge of the shift. Jaya used to get up and wait for my arrival from duty. Happy Days.

Jaya, Shantha and myself, were having a wonderful time. In April 1965, our second daughter Bhavani was born. A sibling for our Shantha. Jaya was singing "Namaste Bhavani" at the time of delivery and the baby girl was named Bhavani.

The year 1965, another Vanaspati Factory in Calcutta called RASOI was looking for Chemists. The Chief Chemist was one Singhal, and the owner was Mody. With my almost ten-year experience in the industry, I was looking for the next higher post for a Shift Chemist, Deputy Chief Chemist. With this in mind I attended the interview. Mody, younger to me, at that time he must have been of 26 years or so, liked me and wanted his Chief Chemist Singhal's approval. Singhal said he cannot accept me as Deputy Chief Chemist and I can be taken as a Shift Chemist. Mody had just purchased the Rasoi Factory in New Alipore in 1964 and was fully dependent on the Chief Chemist for his product, and could not possibly overrule Singhal's objection. But something clicked between Mody and me during our meeting when I told him that I cannot accept the post of a Shift Chemist and that I am happy with my present post of Shift Chemist in Belghoria. I was looking for a higher post. Our bond grew stronger, as future incidents in my career unfolded.

I had very sincere workmen in my shifts and there was tremendous understanding. Especially, during night shifts, out of 8 hours, I had almost 2 hours to myself, free from factory work. Ambi helped me here with the duty of reviewing English story books and novels, for a Calcutta based paper, Hindustan Standard. The reviews got printed in their Sunday Editions with my initials, RSV as the reviewer. I used to get the books to keep and was paid Rs.5/- per review published!! For the workmen, seeing me reading the books in the night shift and showing them the paper with my name, was something they could not comprehend and I was almost a HERO to them.

Labour and Union troubles were raging in West Bengal at that time. Our factory was not immune to it . Two of our staff members, Kundu the Store keeper and Roy one of the Chemists, were assaulted and injured. I felt it was time to look for other jobs, preferably outside West Bengal.

The year was 1966. Seeing an advertisement with Box Number for the post of Chief Chemist and Works Manager for a Vanaspati Factory near Bangalore, I made bold and asked my General Manager Aryendra Singh and Chief Engineer P.K. Das, both very senior people, for their advice and how they rated my chances. I was 32 years old. Both gave me the green signal and Singh assured all support whenever needed. I applied for the job. In about three weeks, a letter came from Ravi Vegetable Oil Industries, Davangere, Mysore State, calling me to attend an interview at Bangalore Woodlands Hotel.

I reached the Woodlands Hotel at Bangalore, where a room was booked for me by the company. Interviewed by the owner, Sreenivasamurthy and one B.P. Shetty. I came to know later that Shetty was Managing Director of Davangere Cotton Mills and a cousin of Sreenivasamurthy. Interview over, I was asked to wait. Shetty came after some time and said, "Sowcar is satisfied with meeting you. We can offer you the Post of Chief Chemist and Works Manager. What do you expect as salary?" I was not ready with an answer, as I had not thought of such fast developments. I will be happy if I can get Rs.1,000/- per month with a house, I said. He smiled and said, "We will discuss and send you the Appointment Letter. Be ready to join within one month." He paused and said, "Mr. Vaidyanathan, Welcome to Davangere." Back to Calcutta and Belghoria, to happiness domestically as well as professionally!!

The Appointment letter came with the offer of salary Rs. 900/- per month and free furnished bungalow. All round happiness in Calcutta, especially my father-in-law, who was telling his friends that his son-in-law was going to join a new job with a four figure salary!!! Appa and Amma in Palakkad were super happy. Appa had taken voluntary retirement. He was not happy at his transfers and not being promoted.

Chapter 6: Southbound and the twists and turns of life

Ravi Vegetable Oil Industries, was established during the mushrooming period of new Vanaspati units, and may have been about 10/12 years old when I joined in 1967. Among the earliest people heading the factory was P.P. Sharma, who went on to join DE Smet India as their MD. Next was N.Ramachandran, who went on to join the Cottonseed plant manufacturers, Carver's India in Bombay. I was familiar with them during my Akola stay and had good rapport. B.P.Agarwal who followed Ramachandran was my senior in Akola, and, came with six operatives of his own, promising to take Ravi to greater heights. Those days, when new factories were literally mushrooming, the Managers/ Chief Chemists always moved around with their close associates. It gave them a lot of bargaining power and clout with the new managements. I knew them from Akola days when B.P.Agarwal was Deputy Manager there.

Reaching Davangere in April '67 or so, I stayed in the guest house. I was taken to the factory by C.V. Suryanarayana Rao, the Office Manager. I learnt from him that Agarwal and his team were still around and would be leaving Davangere only in the next few days. This was a shock for me. I had to face them sooner or later!! Akola memories flooded. Reaching the factory, RAVI, an imposing majestic frontage welcomed me. The first person introduced to me was D R Anantharam, as Senior Chemist, a nice personable guy, possibly should have been the Chief Chemist with his experience, but was denied due to Agarwal and Co., who did not encourage local talent, as I came to know by and by.

I was taken round the factory which had a Vanaspati Plant, Oil Mill, Cottonseed Plant, Solvent Extraction Plant, Tin Container plant, and a Soap manufacturing plant. I was to be in-charge of the whole unit!! There I came face-to-face, to two of my old operatives from Akola, Gajadhar Mahabir and Mamchand Sharma, who had come with Agarwal. I had worked closely with them. They were efficient operatives, and they held me in regard. A wry smile from them and the dialogue started. "You should not have come, Saheb. You are a good man, we know. But you cannot manage this factory with the people here. Agarwal Saheb could manage only because six of us are here with him. The local chemists and workmen are just "useless". If Agarwal Saheb goes, all of us will go with him. Whether you can survive here for six days or six months, only God can say. The outer limit is six months". I smiled and said "Gajadhar, I have come and joined. I was not aware that Agarwal Saheb and all of you are still here. In any case even if I had not come, someone else would have come. I was told the management is not comfortable with Agarwal Saheb. Having come, I have to stay, as long as I am able to manage. I will be happy if at least both you and Mamchand stay with me. Please think of that". "No Saheb, we have to go. Agarwal Saheb has promised to take us to Jaipur, nearer our home state also. We wish you well, but the earlier you leave it will be good for you and your family".

Ananthram, was standing a bit away and watching. He could get the drift of our conversation which was in Hindi. He only said, "Sir, I will stand by you. The other Chemists and workers are all capable. You need not worry about the warnings of Gajadhar about the workmen here being useless. Agarwal never gave us any importance or chance these five years. You can depend on us and take your decisions. I can assure you everything will be well". I trusted him.

Since Agarwal was still there, I decided to go and meet him in the evening at his house, inside the factory. It was to become my home for the next six years with domestic trials and tribulations, happiness and joy.

There were three beautiful bungalows, located and surrounded by boundary walls, nice courtyard with greenery. I was thrilled. A big gate separated the staff quarters from the factory. The first bungalow was occupied by C.V.S. Rao, the Office Manager. In the second (middle one), Agarwal was staying and the third was vacant. Anantharam had sent a worker with me to show Agarwal's Bungalow. I opened the gate, a 30 feet walk to the front portico, where a couple of chairs were there, but no human presence. I walked in hesitatingly and was climbing the portico steps, when Mrs. Agarwal literally flew out of the house, eyes blazing and confronted me. She had seen me in Akola and his children also knew me. Mrs. Agarwal, greeted me with choice expletives in Hindi. To be honest I was taken aback. "How dare you dream to be a replacement for Agarwal Saheb? Are you not aware of your own limitations? How can you ever think of running a big factory like this, which Saheb has brought up from scratch? You are being foolish and idiotic to even think of joining as Manager here".

Agarwal came out, glum faced and extended his hand. He asked me to sit down. I blurted out "Sorry Sir, I was aware that you are in Davangere with Ravi factory. When I was interviewed, I asked the gentlemen about you. Both of them said, that you have already resigned and left the factory". "Who interviewed you?", asked Agarwal. I told him, "Sreenivasamurthy and B.P.Shetty. The appointment letter came later, and I am here. Only this morning I heard from C.V.S.Rao that you and family are still here. I have met Gajadhar and Mamchand also". He took a deep breath, and asked his wife to go in. She demurred and mouthed some more expletives. "Yeh madrasi log …kabhi….", as she stormed into the house.

The storm blew over. The next morning and the following days, I followed a routine of meeting the chemists and operators in different sections, on priority, one on one. This led to meeting the workmen mostly from Karnataka, but some Tamils also, on the shop floor. This slowly built up my confidence. All the sections in the factory were working normally, without the six operatives of Agarwal, and Agarwal himself. I remember it took them about a week for packing and departing from Davangere. Both Agarwal and I did not make any attempt to meet each other during this time or during their departure.

I used to get information from Anantharam and one Karuppiah, a senior mason, attached to the owner's bungalow. He was a Tamilian, garrulous, and had the ears of the owner as I understood later. He welcomed me in loud terms in Tamil, and said that I will be happy with the Sowcar and Kantaraj, the General Manager, but slyly pointed a finger at C.V.S. Rao, and advised me to be cautious in dealing with him.!! Anantharam also cautioned me in similar terms, along with another Sreenivasa Rao, the Chief Accountant, said to be a confidante and man of all seasons to C.V.S.Rao. P.J.Varkey, the person in charge of the Tin container making plant, a wizened grey haired old man, a Keralite, and an expert in his field and over 10 years in Ravi, assured me not to worry about his plant and also Vanaspati plant as people were capable. He said, Oil Mill and Solvent Extraction plants may require attention and a little polishing, after Agarwal and team leave. These were valuable tips and over time I could work out my style of working. My task was cut out.

Appa, came with Jaya, Shantha and Bhavani, to Davangere, and the house got organised. He returned back to Calcutta after a few days. By middle of the year, 1967, Appa, Amma, sister Raji, were in Davangere. The house was full. Appa took an instant liking for the bungalow and surroundings. He took keen interest in gardening. Domestic help was available and Jaya was managing the whole show, comfortably. Factory work was taking off smoothly boosting my confidence, with the staff and workmen.

In March 1967, Jaya's father (Mama for me), visited Davangere to see how well his daughter has settled. We took the opportunity to take him to Harihar, a famous place with a temple on the banks of a river near Davangere. Mama was very happy, and promised to come back again to see us in August or September with Mami (Jaya's mother). Unfortunately, that was not to be. Later that year, as Mama was getting ready for visiting us with Mami, he had sudden severe back pain. Hospitalisation and treatments proved futile, his health deteriorated, and he passed away in December 1967. He was only 56 years old. It was a shock for all of us and Jaya was shattered.

Chapter 7: When God closes a door, he opens a window!

Appa had a setback in health, with liver problem and jaundice. Thanks to Dr.Shivsahankar, he got cured and recouped back his health. Raji was admitted to college for her graduation and Shantha started going to school. The turmoil which followed in loads, from 1968 to 1972, shook me to the core. The premature birth of twin children, a boy and a girl in November 1968 - they did not survive. Jaya was in the hospital and withstood the trauma bravely. Raji and myself attended to her. Then the most severe blow, of our Shantha passing away on December 25, 1968, after a fever that lasted for just two to three days, and eventually diagnosed as diphtheria. Dr. Shivashankar who had treated Appa was in constant attendance, but ultimately, Jaya and I lost her. We were shattered. Shantha was six years old and Bhavani had just turned three.

Two or three days after Shantha's passing away, Bhavani related a dream she had the previous night. She said "I saw Akka in my dream. She was laughing and was happy. She told me, 'ask Appa and Amma not to be sad because I am not there. I am happy here sitting in a simahasanam with Guruvayurappa. You look after them and make them happy'." Coming from our three-year old Bhavani, it shook us to the core. Bhavani who was a very chirpy and cheerful child, tended to become an introvert. Jaya was traumatised. It is only by God's grace that she did not lose her mental balance.

After a few months, when Bhavani was unwell and had to be taken to the hospital, we were fortunate to meet , Dr. Nirmala Kesaree - a genial young doctor and paediatrician, who was adored by both her colleagues and her patients. She became close to Jaya. Seeing her sadness, Nirmala advised Jaya on the futility of grieving. She explained to her that life has to move on, and that she should focus on looking after Bhavani, and perhaps have another baby who could be a sibling to Bhavani. We are deeply indebted to Dr. Nirmala for her counselling.

Our daughter Anuradha came in our life in May 1971. There was a movie called Anuradha, the songs of which were very pleasing and Jaya picked the name from there.

Life moved on. Jaya reconciled slowly, standing shoulder to shoulder with me and giving me courage.

Raji's graduation, Appa and Amma moving back to Palakkad, all came up one by one. Appa was searching for a proper alliance for Raji. It was a struggle I came to know later. Appa was getting dejected. The marriage was finalised in 1971/72. Ramani, working in IPCL Baroda, was the groom. The marriage was to be in 1973.

I was looked upon as a good Chief Chemist and Manager. B.P. Shetty and Kantaraj encouraged me to join the Rotary Club of Davangere. Socially I made good friends. I was elected as Secretary of the Rotary Club, and I arranged projects for medical treatment of rural children. At my request, Dr. Nirmala agreed to join our team on at least three occasions. It was a highly rewarding experience- the villagers were happy, Dr. Nirmala was happy, and it gave me a sense of achievement. Kantaraj and Shetty were happy. C.V.S Rao and Sreenivasa Rao, were however not happy with my growing popularity. While they tried to needle me on factory matters, C.V.S. Rao went to the extent of saying that being a Keralite, I was clever and using 'Black Magic' to catch the favourable attention of Sowcar, Shetty and Kantaraj!!!

Meanwhile, in the factory, some local entrepreneurs from Shimoga came to look at the De Smet Solvent Extraction plant. They came through the Sowcar and I was allowed to talk to them. I gave them all technical details and helped them to choose the equipment. They were very happy. They put up a factory called Jayapadma Extraction Industries, in Shikaripur, Shimoga District. I realised much later that this was a divine intervention in my life.

Times of turmoil and change

There was a sudden turn of events in 1971, when Anu was a few months old and Bhavani was six. Serious labour unrest was brewing over a period in Davangere Cotton Mills, and this resulted in a violent outburst from the workmen. One afternoon, the MD, B.P. Shetty, who had interviewed me, was dragged out of his office and murdered in broad daylight, around 2.30 pm or so. A group of workmen ransacked the office and beat up some staff members. They were searching for other senior managers too. There was loud commotion and uproar. A group armed with iron rods and sticks, rushed towards Ravi, shouting loudly, calling for death of more managers. My factory was about 1000 metres away from Cotton Mills. The watchmen and security people got wind of these activities, rushed into my office and asked us to run away. My administrative officer, Seshadri, who sat in the front office just outside mine, rushed in.

We were scared. Our families were in the quarters. Jaya was at home with Anu and Bhavani was in school. To come out from the office and rush to the quarters would have been suicidal, as the workmen were rushing in. My mind went blank, I just looked at the small photo of Guruvaurappan, I used to keep on my work table, and took a deep breath. Seshadri and I rushed inside a new laboratory that I had rigged up just behind my office for some special work, and locked ourselves. The workers rushed in. They asked the watchman where the manager was and rushed towards the quarters. Jaya inside the house with Anu in a cradle, could hear the workmen shouting, "this is the house of the Ravi Manager. Don't harm them. Look only for the Cotton Mill Managers". They rushed towards the houses where Senior Staff of Cotton Mills were staying. The managers were not there. The armed workmen did no harm to the families and the commotion was over by 7 pm. Seshadri and myself came out from the Laboratory, our hiding place, and rushed towards our families and were greatly relieved. The families were safe. Later I could make out that the anger was not on the Owner, but Shetty himself, who would not accede to their demands. These events happened towards the end of 1971.

After a few weeks, C.V.S.Rao called me to the office. He said, "Vaidyanathan, the matter is serious. Sowcar has identified the killers of B.P.Shetty. We have to punish them. The matter is in the Courts now. Sowcar wants you to come to the court and identify the people and give evidence that they were the ones who killed Shetty. Your evidence as Manager will carry weight". I was caught unawares. In my mind I decided that I will not give any false evidence, since I was not a witness to what had happened. I took time from C.V.S. Rao, telling him that I would decide in a day or two. He said "Sowcar wants a positive reply by tomorrow". Having decided, I spoke to Jaya about my predicament and also that if I did not accede, I may lose the job. She readily agreed and was forceful that I should not give any false evidence. I was relieved. I spoke to Appa and Ambi and both supported my decision. The next day I kept quiet. The day after Rao called me, I told him of my decision. Two days later there was another call. I was told point blank that if I was not ready to give evidence, then I would have to resign from my job. At that time, maybe March 1972 or so, Jaya was expecting again, and the delivery was due in October/November. Bhavani, Anu, and the new entrant to the family expected. I do not know how, but I felt a strange calm.

Two weeks passed and Rao started asking for my programme. I told him of the family exigency and requested time. "No, the matter can be decided by Sowcar only", he said. I met the Sowcar. He heard me and asked no questions on my decision to resign. He only said, "Stay as long as you like. In case you need any help during the delivery, for your wife let me know".

Around that time, completely unexpected, the factory owners from Shikaripur, who I had helped a few months earlier to put up Jayapadma Extraction Industries, came to my house one night and said, "Sir, we have come to know that you have resigned the job here. We invite you to join us and look after our Factory. You had helped us". I did not hesitate and agreed. "You can name your salary", they said. On the spur of the moment I asked, "Can you pay me Rs.1,500/- per month plus accommodation free of charge?". They agreed, and I had a job. Matters moved fast, winding up operations; Ananthram was looking after day-to-day activities of the factory. Workers were visiting but the curtains had to be drawn on my career in Ravi 1967 to 1972. No regrets, and happy to have successfully run the factory for over five years and not wilted under the pressures and threats.

Jaya delivered a baby girl in October '72. Since her arrival heralded a new job for me in tumultuous times, as Manager of Jayapadma Extraction Industries, I suggested Jayapadma! Jaya willingly agreed. Jaya and the three daughters were shifted to Madras where Jaya's brother Aghoram was living with his family in Poes Gardens. It was a beautiful bungalow built by Jaya's father. They stayed there till I got a house in Shikaripur and settled in my new job.

   

Chapter 8: The wine experiment

The story of my life in Davangere will not be complete if I do not relate the Wine Saga, which always evokes laughter. A delightful experience with lots of fizz and mirth. Inside Ravi Factory there was a two-acre land where Sowcar cultivated grape vines. Four or five different types of grapes were grown under expert supervision. The grapes were nice. In the factory soap manufacturing unit, there was one Kailasa Iyer, a garrulous Malayalee. He was good at his work and was happy advising on all the jobs in the factory. We kept him to his job. He took keen interest in the vineyard and managed to convince C.V.S. Rao that he is an expert in wine making and he can try making it in the factory with the grapes.

Even without drinking, I think the talk of alcohol itself intoxicates. C.V.S.Rao, put in a word to Kantaraj who in turn passed it on to Sowcar. All readily agreed. Kailasa Iyer said he is good in astrology and an auspicious day was fixed. Grapes were collected, spread on big white cloths after washing, dried for three days in the sun. I think about 12 to 15 bottles were procured with corks and all. The factory had a large coffee grinder, which I was using to grind handpicked groundnuts, to make a product called Baal Ahaar for the Food Corporation of India. This project was done by me and C.V.S.Rao and brought good revenues for the company. It was for this I had made a special laboratory to test aflatoxins in groundnut seeds. (This was the same laboratory where Sesdhadri and I had taken refuge during the labour turmoil). I had learnt testing from CFTRI Mysore where I spent about 15 days.

This large coffee grinder came in handy to crush the grapes. Bright sparkling grape juice came out, was collected, filtered over muslin cloth, filled bottles and corked. Kailasa Iyer was the hero. He muttered some mantras to the delight of Sowcar and Kantaraj and other staffers, tied white cloths over the corks of the bottles. He had got a pit dug in the vineyard about 4 feet deep to place the 12 to 15 bottles of the grape juice, to be opened after four months! The date was noted and the wine kept to age. A small lecture on wine making and a cup of tea with Sowcar ended the day. Four months later, a big celebration was planned. Everyone was ready with smacking lips, to taste the homegrown wine. Kailasa Iyer was ecstatic and was ready with loud guffaws. The time came. With Iyer breathing down his neck, the gardener Rangappa, dug the wine pit and slowly took out the first bottle. Iyer checked whether there were enough glasses.

He slowly untied the cloth over the cork and pulled out the cork with a corkscrew, and then hell broke loose!! There was a loud explosion, as the high-pressured liquid burst out and squirted all over with a not too pleasant smell! First straight on the face of Iyer and on Sowcar, who was peering over, and Kantaraj. Never to accept defeat, Iyer laughed it off, explaining temperature difference causing the blowout. Much to everyone's disappointment, however, the next three bottles too met the same disastrous fate. Sowcar called off further operations and left in a huff. That was Wine Saga, a story for memories and lot of laughter in retrospect!

Chapter 9: A place called Shikaripur

I joined Jayapadma Extraction Industries in Shikaripur, a village near Shimoga, a typical rural place. The factory and the plant were nice and there were good operatives also. I initially stayed in a nearby hotel. Later, when the house was ready, I shifted. The house had about eight rooms, one attached to the other in a linear manner like railway compartments! You walk through a walkway and open the room you want, just like a hotel! There was also an open well outside.

Jaya, and the daughters, Bhavani Anuradha and Jayapadma accompanied by Jaya's mother, joined me and the household started. Bhavani was put in a village school running virtually under a tree like Tagore's Shantiniketan! The school was called Giddan Kudi, Kannada for School! Jaya's mother (Mami) was cheerful and happy to be in Karnataka. She had spent her early years in Karnataka and was familiar with the language, culture and music. She and Jaya happily ran the household while I attended the factory, which was about 5km away and I travelled by a factory jeep. The workmen were good, but I had no mental satisfaction, and became restless with the small factory in an idyllic rural setting, where there was nothing much I could do.

As days moved on, I got a letter from Calcutta which had reached the Davangere address and was forwarded to me by Anantharam. The envelope said, 'from Doyapore Tea Co. Ltd. Calcutta'. Opening it, I was happy to see a letter from Mr. Raghu Mody asking me whether I could join as their Chief Chemist and Factory Manager in Rasoi Factory in Calcutta!

Matters moved fast. I wrote to Ambi. He went and met Mody, who was impressed with Ambi's credentials and offered him the job of P.R.O. in Rasoi. Ambi politely declined, and talked about me. I was called to Madras for an interview. My old relationship with Mr. Mody was rekindled, and the conversation was congenial and I decided to join Rasoi. Mody spelt the terms: Rs. 1800/- per month as salary, free furnished accommodation in the Factory, all expenses met, and a car with a chauffeur (he underscored this point) for my personal use!! Rambaran Mishra, the chauffer who came with the car, stayed with me till the end of my long stint at Rasoi and was like a family member!  

I returned to Shikaripur, dwelling on the quick turn of events. The appointment letter came a fortnight later and I joined Rasoi on the 11th of July 1973. Ambi was living in Lake Road near Vivekananda Park at that time. And so my Calcutta life started. 

Chapter 10: A new and long chapter begins in Kolkata

Ups and downs, thrills, joy, domestic tragedies all were interwoven into this period of my life. My colleagues at the Rasoi factory, right from day one: Banerjea, the Chief Engineer, Dey the Production Manager, Lahiri, the Senior Chemist, all accepted me wholeheartedly and I knew I could manage the factory. They all became family friends. The office was on the ground level, and I was given housing accommodation on the first floor above the office. It was a nice three-bedroom apartment with a large hall, kitchen, store room, baths and a large balcony. Ambi had the house furnished, and it was ready to live in.

An Avalanche of Domestic Tragedies 

Ambi's personal life was in tatters and had ended in divorce with Kamala. Appa was devastated. Raji's marriage was celebrated in 1973. Appa and Amma were very happy to see my settling down in New Alipore and Rasoi, but Ambi's setback cast a dark shadow in our lives. Appa was searching for a bride for Ambi and Janaki, entered our lives in late 1973.

Appa was keeping indifferent health. They went to Trichy in 1975 to celebrate Raji's Seemantham. She was expecting her first child. I could not go and Ambi had taken them. On the night after the Seemantham, Appa passed away, lying on the lap of Amma. This was on 25th January 1975. More or less a peaceful end, leaving a large a void for me and Ambi. I went to Trichy for the final rites. I could not even see Appa's body as the cremation was over, leaving me only with memories. Final religious rites for Appa were done in Tambaram in Madras, with Bagyam and family, and we returned to Calcutta. Amma withdrew into herself, and would not even smile. It tugged at our hearts, but nothing could be done. The end was nearing and she passed away in May 1975, in the Lake Road residence of Ambi. Chemba had come and Raji was there. The final rites were conducted and a big chasm left before us. Raji delivered a boy soon after Amma's passing away, Dorai, but he too passed away the following year after a short illness. Raji and all of us were devastated.

Rasoi - The Early Days

As in-charge of the factory I had to start from basics. Vanaspati was a controlled item with a plethora of rules and the "License Raj" was supreme. Some of the procedures in the plant needed course correction. I remembered Balasubramaniam of Akola and mentally thanked him for teaching me the procedures. I discussed with my colleagues at the factory- Banerjea, Dey and Lahiri, who agreed and helped me streamline the processes.

The immediate fallout of this was that I found myself accepted fully by Banerjea, Dey and Lahiri, and through them the whole gamut of factory staff- all Bengalis. The workforce was a mix of men from Bengal, Bihar and UP. They started calling me "bada saheb"- a label that steadily endured all through my stay at Rasoi till 1996. It stood me in good stead even during the worst of labour troubles which was raging all over Bengal and Rasoi was no exception. No one talked of my being a Keralite and or of Black Magic, here! 

 Our family life went on peacefully. All the daughters were enrolled in school. Another addition to the family was Lalitha in 1976. She was born at 4.30 a.m. Jaya was singing the "Lalitha Pancharatnam"- a beautiful sloka that goes "Pratah smarami Lalitha vadanaravindam…". Jaya has always imbued music, and at this time, it also helped her alleviate the pains of childbirth. The baby girl was naturally named "Lalitha", to all round happiness and joy. Schooling of the daughters, in Ashok Hall (Tollygunge) with Bhavani leading the team of Anu and Padma, and soon followed by Lalitha, where they made good friends

I joined the Oil Technologist's Association of India (OTAI), and later the Rotary Club of Calcutta South West. I became a member of the American Oil Chemist's Society and was elected President of OTAI's East India Chapter. This brought me in touch with brilliant Professors and technologists in the field - Notably, Professor M.M.Chakrabarty. Through him I became popular in the Chemistry Department of Calcutta University. I could spend time in the Laboratories at the University and interact with senior people, and wrote technical papers under the supervision of Prof. Chakrabarty. I published several papers in the Journal of the American Oil Chemist's Society and the OTAI.

I was called to give lectures at various Oil Technology Associations. I provided facility in the factory by way of equipment and my own participation, where Prof. Chakrabarty could upscale his Laboratory Experiment findings to Industrial Scale, with Mody's nod of course. A highlight of our collaboration was the production of Vanaspati without Hydrogenation and Nickel Catalyst, a process called Inter-esterification during a time when there was a worldwide lobby against the use of nickel as a catalyst for hydrogenation. In the process, Prof. Chakrabarty also became a close family friend. His wife and children were fond of Jaya and the girls.

I also devoted time to develop a new process for degumming of Rice Bran Oil. Those days, India was heavily dependent on import of edible oils and any local oil was welcome. Oil from Rice Bran was one. The processing was difficult and the gums were removed by using Phosphoric Acid. I studied research papers on using Molasses for degumming the oil. I discussed with Prof. Chakrabarty and his colleagues and with their approval encouraged Mody and Jain to invest and start the process in Rasoi.

My colleagues in Rasoi were very supportive. With this we were able to mix more than 50 percent of Rice Bran Oil with other oils to make Vansaspati. The national norm was around 10 percent and used by our competitors. Molasses being a by-product of sugarcane crushing, was cheaper and not a mineral acid. Mody expressed his happiness. He sponsored my trips to foreign countries to attend technical conferences - UK, USA, Europe, Malaysia, Nepal and to Japan. I was also able to take Jaya on a short vacation in 1982, during one of the visits to Europe.

I was elected President of the Rotary Club of Calcutta South West. Mody openly expressed his pleasure. Ambi was working with Chandamama Publications, Madras. They published a Braille edition of Chandamama. I got it released in my club with Mody as the Chief Guest. Mody was a member of the Rotary Club of Calcutta. He happily did the book release and made a handsome donation to the club. Meeting Ambi at the Club, he smiled and said "you should have joined my group!" I just imagined, both of us in Rasoi!

One of the highlights of my association with Rotary was a visit to the Club by Mother Teresa. We had raised some funds for the Missionaries of Charity and she came to thank us. I was struck by her simplicity and humility and cherish the blessings she gave us.

Rasoi had gone public in 1976 and I was elevated to be the Technical Director of the Company. I was happy seeing my name in newspapers and in the Annual Accounts and Balance Sheets of the Company. Ambi was very happy. We missed Appa and Amma.

Mody acquired two more Vanaspati Factories, one in Kundli in Haryana and another in Bhiwani, also in Haryana. I surveyed the plants along with Jain and started running them. In Bhiwani, my former boss from Belghoria Factory Aryendra Singh joined as General Manager. I was happy. Rasoi also put up a Cottonseed plant in Jalgaon in Maharashtra. I did the selection of equipment and started the plant.

Domestic tragedy struck again. Ambi was having indifferent health from 1980 or so. Treatments in Calcutta, Madras and Kerala failed to show improvement. He managed till around mid-1982. I brought him and his wife Janaki to our New Alipore residence, where his treatment continued. Ambi breathed his last in April 1983 . He was around 56 years. I was shattered. Jaya and the children consoled me. Ambi's wife Janaki shifted to Madras to live with her brother and family. Balan, my nephew who was working with Ambi, shifted to Bangalore.

Chapter 11: A journey through highs and lows

Education of our children in Ashok Hall continued. Bhavani used to attend the Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture in Gol Park and made a name as a good speaker, a keen participant in the Study Circle and the Mission's youth programmes. The Swamijis held her in high regard and she spoke at an International Conference of Youth held in Belur Math. The mission had good libraries which were frequented by our daughters. Bhavani encouraged Anu, Padma and Lalitha also to take part in the activities in the Institute. Winning prizes at the annual events in the Mission almost became a habit with all the three. Jaya and myself happily looked forward to the events . After school, Bhavani studied in Lady Brabourne College, and later in Calcutta University and completed M.A in Economics. She passed an Examination with State Bank of India (SBI) and joined as a Probationary Officer in 1990. We were very happy.

Jaya's mother, was called Chitti by everyone. I used to call her Mami. She was very affectionate and occasionally spent some time with us at our New Alipore home. I developed a sort of mother-son bond with her. She later shifted to Bangalore to live with her son Aghoram and his wife Vanaja. She passed away in September 1992, at Bangalore.

Rumblings of labour trouble at the factory, put down periodically, spurted in 1996. It continued for a few months, when Jain suddenly shifted to Jaipur. He was the MD of the company. He imputed the labour unrest to my inept handling and put a condition that he will take charge, if I am removed from the factory. I was 62 then. Mody recalled an unwritten rule of Rasoi that Executives will retire at the age of 60, and decided I should retire! So it was, on November 16th 1996, I officially left the New Alipore Quarters. Bhavani was in SBI and got a flat on bank lease in Saptasur, Gachtala, and we shifted there. It was an exercise packing 23 years of accumulated belongings and moving it into another. We stayed in our new abode for about a year.

Mody was enquiring off and on about me. He asked me to join Rasoi again as Advisor and provided living quarters in Sreepal Apartments in Ranikuthi, near Tollygunge. A year of travelling around, and I was inducted back into the Rasoi Board. Mody's daughter-in-law, Shashi Mody, was in charge of day today activities in Rasoi. Mody decided to shift the factory from New Alipore, which was a predominantly residential area and had always been the target of complaints from residents over noise and atmospheric pollution caused by the Factory. Shashi Mody and myself started scouting for suitable land in South 24 Parganas district. After about six months or so, we located a place in Banganagar, about 35 kilometres from New Alipore. We had to buy freehold land of about six acres, from about 105 different owners, owning contiguous land. This took almost a year. Selection of plant and equipment and civil construction followed. The plant became operational in 2002. Living in Banganagar and running the factory, I felt was cumbersome and not practical, so I called it a day. Meanwhile, we had purchased a flat in Ranikuthi in 1999, actually two flats adjacent to each other, which we joined together. Sumangal Apartments, where another chapter of our lives began!

Chapter 11A: A Test

Somewhere towards the end of 1990, Bhavani developed a friendship with Anand, son of Shri Sambamurthy, an Executive with Indian Oxygen. The family was good, also living in New Alipore. We became good friends. When the proposal of marriage of Bhavani with Anand came, we were happy. The one snag which I could feel was that Anand, who had done his MBA from IIM Calcutta, was working with a rural NGO in Kashele located in Raigad district, Maharashtra; a job he practically revered, but it seemed impractical from an economic standpoint, to Jaya and me. Bhavani was not bothered about this, as I found that they had developed a happy mental equation with each other. The marriage was fixed and the wedding was celebrated at the Laxminarayan Temple in Sarat Bose Road, in October 1992. Bhavani resigned from her job in State Bank of India. After the wedding Anand went back to his work place; Bhavani left to join him just before Christmas. A happy send off at Howrah Station and phone calls on safe arrival at Kashele.

Lightning struck on 27th December. We were in Saturday Club that afternoon, with Jaya's brother - Raju and his family. A telephone call came from Darshan Shankar, head of the NGO where Anand was working. The news was sufficient to make me howl in madness. Anand was dead. He had gone with Bhavani to the river near the NGO campus, where he used to go regularly. That day both had a swim and Anand had drowned. Destiny? The moving hand writes and having writ moves on……. Corrections or change of course absolutely impossible. Jaya and myself rushed to Kashele. Raju also accompanied us. My sister Chemba, brother-in-law Seshadri and their daughter Gowri rushed down from Mumbai. We met Darshan Shankar and visited the place where the tragedy occurred. Sambamurthy, his wife and older son Srikant were there. Anu who was studying at National Law School in Bangalore at that time had also come with Anand's family. Aghoram (Jaya's elder brother) and his wife Vanaja from Bangalore, visited later.

We had to discuss the future of Bhavani. She was fully taken up with Anand's work at the NGO and wanted to continue there. Jaya and myself were clear in our mind that our Bhavani has to come back with us to Calcutta and we were able to persuade her. I felt someone had slapped me and I was dizzy. Jaya was more composed and gave me courage and support. We approached the Chief Manager at the SBI, explained the situation and requested him to not accept the resignation submitted by Bhavani earlier, and allow her to join her duties. God's blessings were with us and he agreed. Time moved on as usual.

Bhavani was back in SBI where she made a name for herself, as she slowly dealt with her grief. She was promoted to Deputy Manager and Branch Manager. In between, she was selected by SBI and deputed to IIT Bombay in 1993 for a M.Phil, in Planning and Development. She stayed in the IIT hostel and completed the course. Back in Calcutta after the M.Phil, she was posted in different branches, but was not too happy with the bank job, and decided to resign after 10 years of service. She joined the M S Swaminathan Research Foundation (MSSRF) in Madras in the year 2000. We visited and stayed with Bhavani in Madras, first in Indranagar, and subsequently in Tiruvanmiyur and Besant Nagar.

While Bhavani was at MSSRF, she was introduced by friends to Srikumar, who was running a small business in Madras. They became friendly and started meeting each other. This was around 2005 or 2006. Mental equations seemed to gel and they decided to get married. We were happy, and met the family staying in Mylapore. The marriage was registered in Madras on 24th June 2009, in a family get together.

Chapter 12: Our daughters grow

Studying in Ashok Hall Tollygunge, Bhavani, Anu, Padma, and Lalitha, all of them made special niche marks for themselves. I do not know whether I should have devoted more time to all of them. Factory work, and other activities had most of my time. Jaya put in her efforts in training them and bringing out the BEST in them. Anu shifted to Ashok Hall in Minto Park after Class 10. Completing Class 12 in 1990, she saw an advertisement in the papers from National Law School of India University (NLSIU), located in Bangalore, which was just established. I went with her to the examination centre in St.James'School in Sealdah and met the Director of the School, Dr. N.R. Madhava Menon. Anu passed the entrance with flying colours and was keen to join. Jaya and myself discussed and agreed to send her. Anu would stay in the college hostel. She was in the third batch of 60 students in NLSIU, to get BA.LLB. degree. She got over the initial hiccups at the new place and the new studies. She was 19 years old when she went to Bangalore. Running the family, and education for the children, funds were a constraint at times. I shared with Mody and he readily agreed to give Rs.1000/- per month, from Manoj Mody Foundation for all the five years of her education. This was a very welcome support.

The Foundation was in memory of Mody's only son Manoj, who had died in an accident. I had worked with him while Kundli and Bhiwani factories were acquired, and we had a mutual liking for each other. I could feel he held me in high regard. Those days, Company Laws were strict as I was made to understand by Jain and the annual increments allowed for Directors was a meagre Rs. 350/- ! With the result, my salary when I retired in 1996, was just Rs.9900/- p.m. Jain was too powerful and carried the ears of Mody, who was having a tough time after losing his son Manoj, and also nurturing new acquisitions, J L Morison and Co, and Hindustan Ferrodo both in Bombay. But what did cause anguish in me was when I heard, that a senior colleague had made an open comment in the office that "he had never met a Director of a Company accepting Charity"! Was he alluding to Mody giving me Rs.1000/- per month from Manoj Mody Foundation? So be it, I couldn't care less.

My goals were clear and set. Education of the children was supreme and Anu's education continued. She made quick progress, making a mark everywhere, participating in Moot Court competitions etc. She came out with flying colours with BA.LLB. She won the Felix Scholarship the year she graduated from NLSIU and went on to study Masters in Law, LL.M. from the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. Some years later, she capped it with a LLM from New York University!! All on her own merit. 

Padma meanwhile was making a mark of her own. She always felt upset and sad at being compared to Bhavani and Anu, at Ashok Hall by her teachers. After completing Class X in Ashok Hall, she shifted to the Loreto Convent where she completed her Higher Secondary education. Trying for future studies in design, she attempted the entrance at the National Institute of Design. It was her passion and she passed the examinations, but did not clear the interview. Her selection to the School of Planning and Architecture was blocked as the West Bengal Board exam results were delayed. She subsequently decided to follow Bhavani's footsteps and went to St.Xavier's College, where she completed Honours in Economics; soon after she was selected to join the Institute of Rural Management in Anand, Gujarat, in 1994.

Anu's education was continuing. Mody used to enquire of her progress in studies. He always asked about all the daughters. On my informing him of Padma joining IRMA, he enquired how long the course was. When I said, two years, he readily offered Rs.1000/-p.m for her studies, even as the contribution towards Anu's studies was continuing. It was a welcome and timely assistance. I have no regrets about low salary or increments!! Higher salary offers from local Vanaspati factory owners and surprisingly one from Benares, based on my reputation with Rasoi, were politely declined by me, a decision I never regretted. 

Padma also came out with flying colours. She used to keep us posted about the intricacies of Rural Management experiences. Her experience of staying in interior rural villages, in rural households, with no sanitation facilities still overawe me and Jaya. Her experience of sleeping in a cowshed, the affection and care the village women showered on her, is a thing I always hold high in my memories.

In 1996, both Anu and Padma were living in Gurgaon, after completion of their studies, employed in different places, staying together. Padma moved later to Dumka in Bihar for work and Anu to Delhi.

Lalitha's education continued. In consultation with Prof. Chakrabarty, and her own inclinations, she chose to study Physiology in Calcutta and completed her Bachelor's degree from Presidency College and Master's degree from Calcutta University. She applied to PhD programs in the US and got admission at the University of Arizona (UofA), Tucson in the year 2001. Following a telephone interview, she was offered a full scholarship to pursue her Ph.D. in Cancer Immunology at the UofA. This was all new to me. She was around 24 years old. Expenses for travel to Arizona were comfortably met and Lalitha left home. We never for a moment dreamt that she would end up settling down there for good.

Lalitha Ramanathapuram completed her Ph.D. in 2006. Anu and Piyush visited Arizona for her Convocation and award of Ph.D. She followed this up with Post-Doctoral Research first in Arizona and then in New York while also pursuing a course in Public Health from New York University and chose to settle down in New York thereafter. After her Master's in Public Health, she took a job with New York University, and worked on a project related to malaria research which brought her to India, every three months. We could not ask for more happiness. She then got a more challenging posting in the Cancer Immunology division of Memorial Sloan Kettering Hospital in New York. Socially she has built up a good circle of friends and is happily settled in New York.

By this time, there were new additions to our family- Anu and Padma had married Piyush and Liby, respectively. In May 2006, our little Karuna was born to Padma and Liby.

Engaged in their own chosen activities, chalking out independent lives on their own, is the hallmark of our daughters. Jaya and myself had full confidence in all of them. Keeping to the family traditions though not literally, as we also follow, each day the bond between the sisters grows stronger. As we step into the twilight of our lives, this happiness will sustain us. I recall what our good friend Dr. Banerjee Choudhry told us, "Vaidyanathan Saheb, you have Four Invaluable Gems in your Four Daughters. You will always be Happy". We are Happy Parents.

Chapter 13: The journey of life continues

We had left Rasoi Factory in 1996, and I was asked to re-join in 1997, as already mentioned earlier. Around 1999, Anu expressed her wish to get married to her Law School classmate Piyush Joshi. Around that time Padma also chose her partner in life, Liby Johnson, her classmate from IRMA! Hectic discussions between me and Jaya. We had no reservations. I am yet to comprehend, how my parents and even Ambi would have reacted to such proposals, from absolutely diverse backgrounds. Piyush Joshi from UP (later Uttarakhand), and Liby Johnson from Kerala! Our decisions, Jaya and myself, our confidence in our daughters, and their happiness our ultimate goal, the marriages took place. Anu was married on 11th February 1999. We were in Sumangal Apartments then. Piyush's parents and brother had come and a simple ceremony of registration of the wedding at home, was completed. We held a reception at the Saturday Club where our friends could come and greet the couple. 

In Padma's case, both Liby and Padma were in Mohuda in Orissa, working with a NGO Gram Vikas. His parents were living in Pathinamthitta in Kerala. To avoid any clash of opinions on discussion, both the families decided to hold the wedding and registration in Mohuda in April of 2000!! Liby's parents travelling to Berhampur from Kerala and us travelling there from Calcutta. All wedding arrangements at Mohuda, done by Liby and Padma with active assistance from Joe Madiath, head of the NGO Gram Vikas. We chose to take my colleague Banerjea and his wife, Prof.Chakrabarty and his wife and my friend Kar from Calcutta to Berhampur by train. Comfortably accommodated in Mohuda, the wedding reception on 15th April, 2000, was attended by over 300 people, staff and villagers in Mohuda. A memorable experience! Liby's parents came to Calcutta with us, before returning to Kerala.

Time and tide waits for no man. Days flew. Years just passed by. I decided to call it quits to service in 2002 after the Bangagar unit started operating. Mody wished I should continue in the Board of Directors, as an Independent Director, which I do till today. We have spent time living in Chennai with Bhavani, and with Padma and Liby in Trivandrum, and most importantly, with Padma and her six-month old Karuna for almost a year at Anand in Gujarat (2006-07), when Padma was teaching at her alma mater, IRMA. Anu and Piyush decided to leave their jobs working for large law firms, and chalk out their own course by establishing Clarus Law Associates as a partnership firm in New Delhi in September 2007. Bhavani married Srikumar in Chennai in 2009. They share similar interests, made their choice and got our blessings. We are happy.

Our stay at Sumangal, Kolkata, and travels and periodic visits to Delhi, Palakkad and other places, ended in July 2012. Jaya had a fall while walking in the morning in Regent Park. Her hip bones had broken and had to be replaced. Anu flew down to Calcutta from Delhi and Jaya had a hip replacement surgery at Fortis Hospital. Her recovery and rehabilitation, however, were excruciatingly slow. We moved to Chennai for continued physical therapy, and then eventually shifted to Gurgaon to live with Anu and Piyush in April 2013. That same year, we went to Kottakkal, at Arya Vaidyasala, fondly hoping that Jaya would recover well to walk well and lead a better life. Our hopes were belied as Jaya's pain continued and increased over time. Further consultations with doctors pointed to the need for a "revision" surgery. This was done in Madras in 2014, by a well-known surgeon specialised in hip replacement. Stay in Madras for rehabilitation, and back to Gurgaon. Jaya took time to adjust herself to the new realities, but was bold and courageous and manages till today, with the help of the rollator.

We sold our beautiful Sumangal home in 2016. It was with a heavy heart, but needed to be done, since we had settled into our lives in Gurgaon by then. Continuing as an independent director at Rasoi was a blessing that enabled our frequent visits to Calcutta. Till early 2020, before the onset of the pandemic, we travelled regularly to Calcutta, Madras and even Palakkad. Jaya and I travelled at least three times a year to Calcutta during the Board Meetings. All this ended however with the Covid pandemic, and it has been over two years since our last visit to Calcutta.

My 80th birthday was celebrated at home in Chennai in 2014 with my children, and Jaya's 80th Birthday was also celebrated in 2019 in Chennai where Bhavani organized an event for our family members at the IIT Alumni club in Mylapore. That was a memorable afternoon with Jaya's brother Shankar, and nephew Raju, singing some lovely songs! I just completed 87 years in December 2021, and Jaya 82 in September 2021.

A full life, lots of ups and downs as is there in everyone's life. Borne with courage and full mutual understanding between me and Jaya and unstintingly supported by our Daughters, Bhavani, Anu, Padma and Lalitha truly our invaluable GEMS. And the GRAND DAUGHTER Karuna, illuminating the Twilight Years. We are HAPPY. We are Grateful to the Universal force which has been guiding us all through the twists and turns.

Before I complete, I wish to give full credit to my soulmate Jaya, with whom I complete 60 years of happy wedded life on 17 January, 2022. Looking after the house, me, and bringing up the children with her own emotional and physical turmoil, with no complaints, was not a small feat. When she realised the number of pregnancies that Jaya has been through, Karuna laughingly commented that we were the "boomer generation"!

It was the mishap of the hip replacement in 2012 that led to lack of mobility, when I saw her lose her composure for a while. I used to tell her "you have looked after me for 50 years (1962-2012), now I will take over!" She used to shrug it off with a grimace.

In these 60 years, we have had multiple differences of opinion, quarrelled and fought. But, forgot always why and what we were fighting about, as Kailasa Iyer (my friend and astrologer) had predicted years back! As I look back, these have been 60 happy years together.

NO REGRETS.

With gratitude to the Universal Force!