Chaturthi day.
Dattanna would come every now and then to generally be of
help and assistance. He was instrumental in getting
Gullanna and Giri admitted to the St. Joseph’s Indian High
School in Bangalore Cantonment. That was considered
quite a good convent school for Indian boys. There was still
a St. Joseph’s European High School meant only for
Whites. Their school was some 5 miles away from home.
On weekdays they would get a school bus to get there. But
some times they would have Extra Classes over the
weekends or they may miss their bus. Then they had to pack
their rice-and-curd in tiffin carrier and trek all those 5 miles.
So they both got bicycles. Gullanna a regular size and Giri a
smaller one.
Smaller it may be, but having ones own bicycle clearly put
him in a higher category. He could even stick two fingers
inside his mouth and whistle like a railway engine. What
good was I? Would I ever be good enough to ride a bicycle?
I told myself, if I ever grow up and make a lot of money, I
would open a big school for all little boys to learn riding a
bicycle. Cycling was easily the 3rd best choice for my
profession after Airplane Pilot and Railway Engine Driver.
Giri had a very mean teacher. Once Giri fell sick and
submitted his homework assignment one day too late. The
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teacher asked him to go sell it in the Russell Market. We all
gave that teacher fellow, nickname ‘Russell Market’, then
on.
Roopa joined Kamala Bai’s Girls’ High School along with
Vijayamchitti’s daughters Chingariakka and Mythili. It was
quite a conservative girls-only school. I could never figure
out what kind of a person this Kamala was, if she was both
Boy and Girl? Why would my sister want to go to a school
named after such a weirdo? But when you are barely 8, you
know you are much smarter than these older folks are, but
your ideas and opinions just don’t count. The elders just get
by, riding roughshod over your immense wisdom by brute
force. That was for sure. Like any nice girl hoping to get a
good husband, she was given training in playing the Veena.
Her music teacher would come every other day and the
whole house would be full of noise. Sooner or later even I
started to develop a taste for Carnatic classical music. It is
hard not to do so, when you are held hostage to so much
good culture thrust down your throat every other day.
Psychologists call it the Stockholm Syndrome, I believe.
Being the next younger sibling and a male, it had become
my role to play her chaperon. Any time all the people had to
go out when it was her tuition time, I had to stay home. You
could never say what these music teachers could be up to.
On our backyard a couple of Car garages were turned into a
school for little neighborhood kids. I was sent there. After a
few months I moved to another better school, Arya Vidya
Shala, a mile away by foot. I started learning Kannada. I
first had a tutor at home who was just too mean. He would
make me read from a book and just doze. Then he would
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suddenly wake up, call me very sweetly to come close to
him. As I would go near him waiting to be appreciated, he
would yell “My dear fellow, how come you have no brains
whatsoever?” Once Akka caught him catching me by the
ear and twisting it hard. That was the last we ever heard of
him in our house. Then I got another tutor that was much
better, except that he had the habit of using nasal snuff
powder all the time and sneezing it on a handkerchief that
needed washing very badly. I started liking the new school
and had some good friends. My grades were generally
picking up.
After we moved out, Vijayamnchitti rented out half of her
house to one Dr. Rama Iyer, an Ayurvedic doctor. He had
boys of my age group, called Balu and Cheenu. We used to
play cricket on the dusty road in front of our house and
generally hang out together. I asked Balu once to teach me
how to whistle like Giri did. He wanted 10 matchbox labels
to do that. Despite bargaining and negotiating, he would not
bring the price down below 8. There was no way I was
going to pay that kind of a price. My matchbox labels were
really of very superior quality and rarity. Ask anyone. At
that tender age itself I learnt that technology did not come
cheap and people who have it do not part with it easily. So I
decided to go on my own. I tried hard to imitate what they
were doing. All I got at the end of my effort was a lot of
snort from my nostrils and bloated sinuses. I decided that
whistling was not the be all or end all of life. Did Alexander
the Great whistle when he was young? What about Erroll
Flynn or Vijay Merchant or Frank Worrell? They were no
whistlers either. They did pretty well in their lives did they
not?
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All this was a far cry from the kind of life we were used to.
We thought people here were very mean and rude. The
family savings were dwindling. Appanna thought of all
kinds of avenues to keep himself gainfully engaged. He
even applied for the job of a Meter Reader in the local
Power Company. He was disqualified for he was overqualified.
He wanted to put his remaining savings into a
Restaurant business. That was too risky and none of us
knew anything of running a restaurant. Then he decided to
put some money into building another floor above our
house so it could be rented out.
The contractors and masons were again hard to get by. They
were all totally corrupt and crooked. They had to be
watched constantly and sometime things had to be done
ourselves. Gullanna would go on his bicycle late at night
looking for some wood or steel bars and then saw them for
window frames. Crime and burglary was a constant threat.
Once even as we were all at home, the house was
burglarized at the middle of the night. The cops were totally
incompetent and sometimes hand in glove with the
criminals themselves. Even ordinary things like getting
firewood for hot water or grocery for kitchen, had become
one big relentless juggernaut. There was no decent mode of
transport. The local buses were undependable, overcrowded
and inconvenient. There used to be horse drawn carriages
called Jutka. That would jostle along forever and haggling
with that driver at the end of journey was more stressful
than the whole journey itself. After a lot of thinking we
finally indulged in the luxury of buying a radio. Paillard, a
Swiss make multi-band Short-wave radio.
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In the middle of all this it was found that Appanna had
diabetes. Onc
e he was walking barefoot on the front yard
and stepped on a rusty steel wire left over from a cracker
during Deepawali festival. That wounded his foot and
caused septic. In a course of time it got so bad that the
Allopathic doctors decided that his foot would have to be
amputated. That was indeed a very agonizing possibility
and it seems Appanna even considered ending his life rather
than do that. Then Dr. Rama Iyer next door took a look at it
and asked if he could get a chance to cure it. He applied
some indigenous leaves and pastes. Within 3 days
everything got healed like nothing had ever happened.
The upstairs was duly completed and let out as two
tenements. We lived in half of the downstairs portion. The
remaining half of downstairs was also let out as two
tenements. That brought in some steady income. We were
not destitute by any means. But there had been a precipitous
fall in our living standard and style.
This was going on and on for months without any end in
sight.
Then finally after more than 2 years of our coming to
Bangalore, at the end of 1949, a letter arrived from long
time friend called Chandan Singh Bharkatiya, now living in
the city of Indore.
END OF PART ONE
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PART TWO - PARADISE REGAINED
The Backdrop:
In early 16th Century there was a Palace Revolt in
Chittorgarh, the Capital of the Kingdom of Mewar. All
members of the royal family were killed, excepting one.
Infant prince Udai Singh was in the care of his wet nurse
Pannadhai. She was looking after him along with her own
infant son, as she heard the stomping footsteps of the on
coming soldiers approaching these portions of royal
chambers. The Usurpers wanted to eliminate the last of
potential challengers to the throne. With great presence of
mind, Pannadhai wrapped the little prince in a blanket and
placed into a basket. She replaced him with her own infant
son in the royal crib. After planting one final loving kiss on
her own son, she fled with the basket.
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Prince Udai Singh grew up incognito in the jungles and
trained to become one fine soldier. He was able to raise an
army with the help of his loyal followers and other nomadic
tribes. Then he started looking for a place to establish a new
capital city from where he could campaign to regain his lost
kingdom. He traveled some 90 miles west of Chittorgarh
and found a spot that was ideal, as if ordered by him. In the
middle of the Aravalli Hills ranges was a large lake Pichola.
He tied his horse to a stone by the lakeside and looked
around. He knew then and there, that was his most perfect
place. He was going to build heavy stone gates at strategic
entry points to the valley, to prevent and be forewarned of
unfriendly intruders. He would place observation posts on
hilltops. The lake would provide wherewithal for any
prolonged siege. The thick jungle blanketing the hills and
valleys would also provide perfect hideout for his fledgling
army. What more could he have asked for? Thus the city of
Udaipur was founded.
All the kings who succeeded Udai Singh built on what he
had found first. They consolidated his gains by building
more dams across the valleys to collect rain water into large
reservoirs. To establish their authority, they built fortresses
and palaces across this territory of nearly the size of
England. However they were constantly struggling to
maintain their independence from Invaders and Empire-
builders from outside. The Maharana, as the kings of this
state were called, made a treaty with the British, when the
British subjugated the whole sub-continent. The Maharana
was allowed to keep his internal autonomy pretty much
intact. His government was even allowed to mint its own
coins, which were valid legal tender along with the Indian
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currency. In return, a British Resident was allowed to stay
in the city, who acted as the ‘ears and eyes’ of the British
Crown. Defense and External relations were within the
overall jurisdiction of the British Viceroy.
In the 1920’s British King George 5th held a Durbar at the
newly inaugurated Indian Capital of New Delhi. Along with
the other Indian Maharajahs and Nawabs, he invited
Maharana Fateh Singh of Mewar. The Maharana was going
to be conferred the titles of GCSI (Grand Commander Star
of India) and KCIE (Knight Commander of Indian Empire).
It was also symbolic of all the attending Princes accepting
the hegemony of the British Monarch by paying their
obeisance. In the last four Centuries, Maharanas of Mewar
had taken the vow of never going to Delhi and offer
obeisance to any Emperor, not even to the Grand Moguls.
Was the Maharana going to do that now? The Maharana
politely informed of his inability to attend the Durbar due to
‘indisposition’. The British sent an Emissary to deliver the
Emissary and received the honors. After the Emissary left,
His Highness directed that the Sash and Insignia be put on
his favorite horse.
Maharana Fateh Singh was very wary of foreign influence
on his Kingdom. He guarded age-old traditions very
jealously. He himself moved around on horseback when
outside his state, people used for transportation a new
innovation called automobile.
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One night the Maharana went to bed wondering why the
soup he had for dinner tasted a little different. He never
woke up to find out the reason.
Short-circuit in the Network:
Fateh Singh was succeeded by his son Bhupal Singh to the
throne. He was mentally very competent but was paraplegic
below the waist, being a victim of polio in childhood. The
new Maharana was more liberal. He opened up his territory
to some modern technology. He laid railways connecting
Udaipur to major cities. He built roads and imported cars.
Besides opening schools and colleges for boys and girls, he
also introduced electricity by establishing a Power Utility
company named after him. That was primarily meant for
supplying electric power to his palaces. Excess capacity
was sold to general public. As the demand for electricity
started to grow with the growth of the city, his government
soon realized that they could not manage this company
efficiently by themselves anymore. They invited bids from
outside parties for buying and managing this company.
Suganmal Bhandari was the Chairman and principal
stockholder of Nandlal Bhandari & Co., in Indore. This
company was basically in the Textile industry. They were
looking for opportunities to diversify
and expand into other
territories. With lots of construction activities going on in
Udaipur, they wanted to get a foot inside the doors of
Maharana’s government, so they may exploit business
opportunities there. With this in mind, they put in their bid
for this Power Utility company, even though they had no
experience in that field. As luck would have it, their bid was
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accepted. They were landed with this baby, with which they
had no idea what to do. Suganmal happened to mention his
predicament to another business friend of his Chandan
Singh Bharkatiya, while making polite social conversation.
Chandan Singh responded by saying, he knew just the right
person who could help him out. Thus came about that letter
from Chandan Singh to Appanna at the end of 1949.
Appanna went to Indore in response. After meeting with
Suganmal and Chandan Singh, in January of 1950, he
accepted the position of Chief Engineer and Manager of
Maharana Bhupal Electric Supply Co., Ltd., in Udaipur
(Rajasthan). When he returned from Indore, Appanna came
laden with presents for all of us. I saw the card in the leather
writing pad he brought for Akka. It read “To TDO”. The
acronym stood for “The Dear One”. He went to Udaipur
alone to take over his new charge and make arrangements
for rest of us to join him. Our schools were still on and the
annual exams would not be over for another 3 months. On
April 24th 1950 we all boarded the train from Bangalore for
Udaipur. Happy days were going to be here again.
Putting the Pieces Back Together:
We started regaining the old luster in our life-style. We had
a nice house with servants, cooks and car with chauffeur. In
the beginning this place was so unspoiled that they even had
not heard of that ubiquitous scourge called Income Tax.
People were very simple minded and innocent. Vegetable
vendors did not know about weighing and counting. You
handed over a fistful of coins and she would shove a big