THE TAIL OF TWO CLUBS

       In the city of Chennai (called Madras previously and renamed Chennai by the new rulers without realising Madras was also called Chennai Pattinam    in the old days) the British after they consolidated set up what they called ‘Clubs’ where they could gather and drink away the hot evenings while smoking cheroots.  They had a club for racing, one cricket, one for boating, one for sports and to cap it all a super one for the super nabobs where only the highest in their pecking order was allowed. The World War II and the consequent bankruptcy of the British government made them give up the Indian Empire in a hurry and the sovereignty reverted to the locals. To many Brits in Madras the loss of the clubs to the locals (some of whom did not know the correct use of western toilets) was more disturbing than the loss of the empire. Changes had taken place even before the Brits left and some of the clubs had a sizable Indian membership. A rear guard action was taken by a tactical retreat and consolidation of the Brits in two clubs. Then the walls of one club were breached and some Indians got in but stern measures were taken to safe guard the last bastion. The inside story of the rearguard action is not recorded but snippets can be picked up from the conversations of the spirits who still hover round.

      These days you do not see or hear spirits of dead people wandering about. It used to be quite common before the modern world with its light and noise hid them. Some say spirits go to a Paradise with lots of pretty women if you die as a jihadist or to a hell filled with boiling oil if you are a coward and do not do your duty. Some say your are forgiven and resurrected. Nobody knows but even though you do not see or hear them they are still around and visit the sites where they had a happy time when alive. There is a charged atmosphere when they are around but you do not feel it because of excessive electromagnetic radiation from modern gadgets.

       Macallan, Johnny Walker, Bushmill, Gordon and Boodles - all from Great Britain were in Madras over various periods from 1870 and were active members of the super club called the Ace of Clubs. They had all gone back to their homes and were buried in Scotland, Ireland, and England. Their spirits used to meet and talk about their old days and especially evenings and nights in the club. After the financial crisis 0f 1988 and the return of conservatives to power life in GB even for spirits became very dull and difficult. The four spirits met and decided to return to their old haunt the ace of Clubs in Madras. Macallan and Johnny Walker were members of the club in late 19^th century, and Bushmill, Gordon and Boodles in the mid 2oth century. The club was their lives, wives and family and there were no worlds beyond.

        On their way back through the stratosphere they had to avoid the satellites and so the journey was not fast. Haig and Walker regaled them with stories of old club situated in large expanse of land off the regal route Mount Road leading from the fort to Governors residence.

     SCENE 1

        Macallan –‘You boys will not realise the opulence of club. There were bars, swimming pond, dining rooms, dancing rooms, billiards room, smoking room and much more.’

       Walker –‘And you know what -the club was women free. They had to wait in their carriages for pick up their husbands. No chatter of children. Thank lord. Only for the Balls were the ladies allowed. You have to have a female for dancing unfortunately!’ 

      Boodles-‘You boys really lived it down. You were at the height of the empire. No world wars yet to wind down the Empire and our clubs and no Winny to empty the British treasury and make us indebted to the Yanks.’

      Walker- ‘Those were the days I tell you. We had the Natives under our thumbs and we lorded over the country. It was worth staying in this hot, fetid place rather than in our damp, cold miserable Isles where we had to do everything ourselves and no Madras curry to warm and no bearers to attend to us.’

       Bushmill-‘We left lovely clubs all over India and I am sure the Indians would have a mess of them. We did our level best to hang on to them but we did not get any help from our High Commissioner in Delhi. He told us that exclusive clubs was out of question and advised us to take Indian members after careful selection. That was the breach and we soon lost control after early sixties.’

       Gordon- ‘We will soon find out what mess they have made.’

        Macallan- ‘And then who will forget the visit of HRH Prince of Wales to our club in 1875 and the dinner ball we arranged for him?’

        Gordon and Boodles (together) –‘Oh I say were there at the ball? We have read so much about it.  I hear the HRH was quite a gut with the gals. He got away with it then.’

        Walker- ‘ The stupid English had to import Huns to rule us. As though they were no Scots available.’

         Bushmill-‘You Scots had your chance but made a mess of it. Your James II had to be packed off.  You are no good at anything but distilling liquor and even this was taught to you by us.’

    Walker- ‘ Who is taking? I hear our Scotch has helped the British economy and has helped them to rule the Empire.’

     Boodles - ‘Now now boys. Let us hear Macallan on the HRH ball in the Madras club. When did it take place?’

         Macallan- ‘In1875. The HRH was in top form as Prince of Wales. He had an eye for girls and was quite open about. Once the royalty accepted the invitation for the ball the club worked overtime to spruce the club for the visit. They even made a private room for him to relax.’

     Boodles- ‘ Did he behave like a Hun. I read somewhere he called himself Prince of Saxony.’

 Macallan -‘Far from it. He was perfect Englishman and behaved impeccably. After World War 1 his son George V called the family the house of Windsor. He was very considerate to the natives and insisted they be treated properly. Our Bar bottle boy Munshi talked about nothing else for years but the HRH’s kindness and consideration.’

Boodles- ‘Of well a change in name does not change people. Look at Edward the VIII ‘

Macallan- ‘I do not know. It was beyond my time. But this HRH was gracious and thoroughly appreciated the show we put up. The club was spruced and lit up with candles in all sparkling chandeliers. The road to the club was lit up with new lights on the way. The club was given a new coat of chunnam wash.’

Gordon- ‘Only candle lights. Was there enough light for a ball?’

Macallan-‘You will be surprised. The chandeliers were made of bohemian crystal glass and they captured all the light. The yellow glow added to the romance. The soft light with its yellow glow captured the beauty of the ladies. I can tell you those days we had a bevy of beauties in Madras. The H.R.H arrived promptly at 9pm ,was escorted up the steps  and when he stepped into the huge ball room, with the band paying ‘God save the Queen’, his eyes lit up at the sight of the lovely ladies.’

Boodles-‘I read that this ball was a terrific affair and London papers were all praise.’

Macallan- ‘You are telling me. I was there and was in charge of the bar. We had stocked up Hocks from Germany for his Highness. After a few glasses his eyes lit up and he was in his elements dancing away to glory. He danced with all the beauties and we had quite a few swooning in his arms as he twirled them round. And then the hock had to come out and HRH was taken down the stairs to the lounge which was specially prepared for him. The bathroom had the latest Dolton fitting in the loo. He was left alone to do the job. Waiting outside were the bears waiting for the royal command’.

Gordon-‘I read somewhere that he stayed on till 4am.’

Macallan- ‘True. The time he spent alone in the changing room and what happened is a matter of speculation. There were rumours that he sent for Munshi, the bottle boy in the bar and had a long chat. It is all hush hush.’

Boodles- ‘Who was this Munshi?’

Macallan- ‘I was the bar member and I know a lot about this boy. His name was Munichamy. He was clever, honest lad and kept a tab on the dishonest Anglo Indian barman and kept me informed. But his forte was palm reading and astrology and was said to be quite good at it. The governor and his wife consulted him and the rumour was that he was recommended to HRH who was anxious to know how long he had to wait before he became the King. It was all hush hush. I hope we run into Munshi and make him to talk about his now.’

Boodles-‘He we are almost there. Look down below.’

All others together- ‘No way. We are over Europe. Look at the lights. Madras will be dark.’

Boodles-‘You forget we are travelling at speeds faster than sound. It is 21^st century and Madras is no longer a candle lit village of your times. Oops that debris almost hit me. It must remains of one of their rockets.’

There was amazed silence from the others as they saw well lit city.

Gordon-‘By gad look at the planes taking off. This is a mini Heathrow.’

Macallan-‘Let us first go to the old club.’

They descended over Express mall. Macalalan, Walker and Bushmills could not believe at the sight unfolding before their eyes. The whole area had a big blazing buildings filled with shops and people. Gone were the old stately buildings and trees.

Walker-‘What has happened to Hick’s bungalow? Look at the surrounding mess.’

Macallan-‘Hey they have girls giving massage.’

Walker-‘you bloody well are not going there, you randy fellow.’

They heard a loud wailing voice crying- ‘ Ellam poche. Ellam poche.  Ayayaoo. Ayayoo.’

A wailing man, beating his breast and wearing a grade 7 uniform of the old club confronted them.

Macallan-‘Munshi by gad. Am I glad to see you’?

Walker-‘what are you babbling Munshi.’

Munshi-‘Club gone Master. No club master. Me very sad.’

Bushmill-‘Stop wailing Munshi. All is not lost. We recreated the Club in a new place.’

Walker-‘You were mad to sift out of this lovely place’.

Bushmill-‘Blame Adolf, Winny and the World War2 which made us bankrupt and made us give back India to the Indians. The club was broke with loss of members after the war. We did not want to admit Indians as we wanted a place for ourselves. So we sold the old pace and moved to a new down the road.’

Boodles-‘Mac. Why don’t you ask him about what he told HRH?’

Macallan-‘That is a good idea. Hey Munshi .You remember when HRH visited our club he sent for you down stairs for a chat with you? Tell us what happened’

Munshi- ‘No Master. No talk. Too private. The great king swore me not to talk. Otherwise he cut off my head in the Tower ‘

Boodles- ‘Now look here Mushy. The great grand daughter is now queen and all others are dead and gone. You can talk safely. They do not behead people in the tower these days. I tell you what. If you tell us we will take you to the new club and you can hover round there instead of this mall.’

Munshi still looking unconvinced-‘Are you sure Sar. HRH told me no talk till he dead. Is there a new club?’

   Macallan.- ‘Yes.Munshi.You are quite safe. You can tell us and it will go no further. After all I sent you down to HRH for a chat.’

    Munshi- ‘As soon as I entered the room the great queen’s son called me to come and sit by his side. I was shivering, went and touched his feet and sat at his feet. He asked me to call him Teddy if I wished. First he wanted to know how long he to wait before he became King. I looked at his palm and prayed and told him twenty six years.’

    Boodles-‘By gad .That was clever. What was the HRH’s reaction?’

    Munshi-‘He was happy that he could carry on for some time with his love life. The great Queen to do work and he could enjoy for some more time.’

    Walker-‘Did he talk about his philandering life style?’

    Munshi-‘No understand Sir. But very common In India to have many unofficial wives. The great king was wise to follow Indian custom.’

       Bushmill-‘Let us get going. I will take you down the road to the place where we built the new club after selling this one.’ 

So down the new year eve lit mount road they went.

    Gordon- ‘Look at the shops and display. The lights are all over. This looks like London town.’

And then they got lost .Bushmill had no clue where they were.

    Bushmill- ‘Where the fuck are we. It is somewhere on the right, with along driveway and tennis courts on the side. It is now a mass of buildings. I got it. That is The St George’s Cathedral on the left hidden by the monstrous building in front. Where the hell has the club gone?’

    Macallan-‘You sold our lovely club to move to this jungle. You must have been mad Bushmill.’

    Bushmill- ‘You left behind a crumbling set of ill maintained leaky buildings with no money in the coffers. So we sold it to a press baron and with the money built a new club on what was then a central quite site. We managed to maintain our purity of membership for a few more years thanks to the commercial crowd when government wallas went back after handing over the Empire to the natives. I tell you it was a compact nice club with nice rooms for bachelors and married executives.’

     Gordon-‘That is right it was a nice cosy club. We were done in by the government prohibition policy and the slow but steady exodus of our members returning home to an improving life back home after the war. I remember the Robbie burns dinner in the fifties when the wily chief minister of the State C.R was the chief guest. In a humorous speech he referred to the golden bottles of whisky and said members would not mind paying a little extra. The next day the price was doubled. ‘

    Walker-‘What happened to this place? It looks a terrible place to have a club’

     Gordon drags them all to the side lane and finally shows them a pediment with columns and says-‘Look this was the entrance to the club. It looks terrible now but the developers have taken over the place. We did not follow Micwaber's advice on balancing income and expenditure and the result was that we were broke. Though we allowed Indian as our guests into the club, unlike other clubs in Madras we did not take them in as members. We wanted our last bastion though the writing was on the wall.’

     Boodles-‘You fellows came begging to us to amalgamate- the club you fellows called ‘The stinky river club’.  We got the building for pittance rent from the arch bishop. We were wise and had already taken a few select Indians as members.’

     Gordon- ‘Now who is talking? You club building was in terrible shape. We had to get that Harris fellow from B&C Mills to check the place. We used the money from the sale of our club to prop you up’

          Boodles- ‘ Where would you be without us? Shut down and forgotten among the Imperial relics. WE taught you the way’.

Walker- ‘Now now don’t quarrel like school boys. Tell us briefly what happened and let us go over to the new place’.

Boodles-‘The long and shot of it is that we amalgamated. The stinky river club became the ace of clubs. Indian members were selectively accepted but we kept tight hold on the club as long as possible.’

Boodles led way and took a short cut over the sky. They were amazed at the construction and what had been open places of the choultry plain had buildings every inch of space. It was New Year eve and suddenly on the winding river there was this lovely building of Mowbray the merchant lit up and the lawns full of chairs, tables and milling with people, some dancing away to music on a small raised dancing floor. It was a fantastic sight and they just hovered and drank it up.

Macallan- ‘By gad this is fantastic. They have as many people as we had during HRH party. But what has the club come to? No DJs and youngsters all over the place. Not done in our time. ‘

Gordon-‘Times have changed since your time Mac. And remember this is a not a British Empire anymore.’

     Boodles- ‘Look at the bar with Johnny Walker, Talisker, Macallan and French wine and members drinking away to glory. I wonder what happened to the infamous prohibition’

     Gordon-‘And the stinky river does not stink much. I wonder what has to the ballroom and cupola covered with tarpaulins’

      Walker-‘Why did you give up such a nice club boodles’

     Boodles-‘we held on as long as possible. When our numbers dwindled we cleverly put three of our diehards as Secretary to see that conventions were kept up. We had an understanding that one ours would alternate as president. Exclusivity was lost when our High Commissioner Mac, son of the bolshie P.M of the twenties, advised us to move with the times. We very carefully screened the Indian members but the die was cast and in due course we lost control. But we saw that dress regulation and club spirit was ingrained into them.’

     Walker- ‘No cheroots and fags. Too many ladies and youngsters for my liking’.

      Boodles-‘The club is still there and that is what matters. It seems to be thriving. We saved your ACE OF CLUBS boys.’

     The spirits were so taken up by what they saw that they decided to stay on for some time and wander round to find out what was happening and satisfy themselves that the legacy that they had left behind was intact.

     (WAIT FOR PART TWO FOR THE SPIRIT'S REACTION TO THE TAIL 0F THE TWO CLUBS.)

Not for the prude and faint hearted. Part 2 of Innocents abroad.  Mut and Sat in Manchester.

LOVE IN MANCUNIUM

Mut and Sat caught the Manchurian express to Manchester and arrived at noon. Now Manchester like London has Roman connections. While London was an important Roman port and commercial place, Roman Manchester was an outpost guarding the Chester-York road. What brought Manchester into prominence was the Industrial Revolution. London still had the glamour of an imperial capital even after the World War 2 in spite of bombed out sights all over. London town was not that grimy or the weather so muggy and soot-laden as Manchester where everything was a shade of black. The bombed out city centre made it more miserable.

     Industrial revolution had created a city of great wealth and surprisingly of art, culture and ideas unlike other industrial Victorian towns. One of the textile tycoons endowed a college which turned into a red brick university of renown and a great research centre. The city also created a mechanics institute which turned into a top notch centre of technology. Mut and Sat studied here the next few years.

     The university made great efforts to welcome students and make them feel at home. They did not have the advantage of Oxbridge but made up for it by their warmth. The first function was a reception by the University to the foreign students co- hosted by the Vice Chancellor and the student’s union. There was the Vice Chancellor in tails with his wife in a banana hat and lady president of the union in fifties version of a miniskirt. Mut and Sat made their way diffidently to meet the VC and lady president and were an immediate sensation especially Mut in his Gold laced turban and Nehru jacket. The VC was impressed and union President could not help giving a smooch on Mut’s cheeks.

     The first month was a whirl of parties to which new students were invited. The university had a group for every taste. One of the most persuasive was the ‘The friends in need’ headed by dog collared reverend named Entwhistle –a multi linguist who could speak Tamil, Malay, Singhalese and Mandarin.  He was assisted by a bevy of girls. Rev Entwhistle aided by the bevy of lovely assistants made a special effort by inviting students from the colonies for tea and scones. You were taught polite manners and the art of eating scones without dropping bits and smearing butter on your lips and face. The meetings started with a prayer to the lord and ended with a prayer. The reverend led a discussion and the topic was inter racial marriages or comparative religion but no one paid any attention.  One of the girls told Mut and Sat that the reverend got on to this after his wife divorced him and married an Indian. At the end of the meeting they dispersed and Mut and Sat enjoyed the heavy necking with the girls at the bus stand.

     The end of the long war had broken the social barriers and made the people more free in their social behaviour. This is quite common and accepted these days but to people visiting Britain it was a welcome surprise from the imperial Victorian hauteur of pre-war Britain.  To Mut and Sat, brought up in rigid India, this was heaven. They became members of the Student International Society where the continentals had even less inhibitions. After the first month they settled down to their studies in earnest. They were in different parts of the university and met only at night in their room, their digs. One day they received a short letter from Billimoria-“Boys need any refills?”. They looked at each other with shame.

Sat- ‘We are wasting time Mut. We must do something.’

 One would have expected that Mut would have lost his virginity first but in life the expected very rarely happens and it was Sat who led the show. Mut found it out when surreptitiously counting Sat’s gift box from Billy. Mut‘s agonised question met with stony silence and he was left to his own devices. ‘I will out do the bugger’ –Mut muttered to himself. Mut got depressed as days went by without any progress. Sat’s box was reducing by one a week. Sat decided to give a hint to Mut.

Sat-‘Mut. You are a real nut. Why don’t you see the signs? The girls are crazy about your Turban. You should let nature take its way. Try one of the Entwistle girls- the quiet one with dark hair and a mournful face. ‘

The topic of discussion at the reverend's next evening tea was Darwin’s theory of survival of the fittest and the superiority of certain races and religion.  Mut with his Vashnavite background could not stand this nonsense and said so- ‘Rev, if this is the case our religion is the best having lasted this long and thriving in spite of the likes of you’.  Entwistle was silenced and shocked and quickly ended the meeting with a prayer. Mut walked out in a huff thinking never again, though I will be missing the lovely eats and the vestal virgins serving them. He walked into Platt fields deep in thought and cooling off and it took some time to realise that someone was hailing him. The mournful girl caught up with him and giving him a hug said-‘I am sorry for what the reverend said. Do not take him seriously. He has become like this since his return from India where his wife left him for an Indian. He thinks all evil stems in this world from miscegenation.’  It was dusk turning to dark and they sat at the foot of Lincoln statue. Suddenly Mut realised this was his opportunity and started kissing Gwendy who returned with equal ardour. Beyond a certain stage Mutt seemed frozen and Gwendy took over. Mut’s turban fell off but Gwendy put it back ‘saying you must have it on. You look like a Maharaja’. Mut tried to mutter, 'but I don’t have it.' Gwen –‘do not worry. I have it ‘and led him through the consummation of his first Billimorian act at the foot of the Lincoln statue.

Mut could not believe that he had done it although with a little help. In the distance they heard the reverend calling her. Gwendy told Mut ‘hide behind the bushes. See you next week’ and ran towards the reverend ‘here I am uncle. Are you upset at the Indian’s rude words?’

    This initial initiation was like a rocket launch overcoming gravity and Mut soared into high heavens. At the International Society all the European au pair girls adored the turbaned practitioner of Kama Sutra, with pleasant manners and insatiable desire to please them. During the student’s monthly dances especially when held in Tech buildings with its dark empty top floors, opportunities were plenty.

    Sat and Mut now stayed separately and each went his way and met only rarely at month-end parties. But news of Mut’s reputation spread and friends told Sat that he was going overboard and that he had a warning from the university that his aid would stopped if his performance did not improve. Next he had a letter from his father that he was coming in five weeks to see him. He had already booked his boat ticket. There was a note from Mut in Sat’s digs- “Where the hell are you? I am in deep shit.  Meet me at 7 at the Union bar on Friday. Do not, I repeat, do not let me down.” After a couple of weak beers Mut was at last coherent enough to explain the problem. Sat was all ears and sympathy. He took charge of a demoralised Mut and told him what to do. First, no girls till his father went back. Second, back to the grind and work to deal with the threat of withdrawal of his aid.  Mut being intelligent and with no distraction from girls should be able to get back on an even keel before his father’s visit. Next they decided to go to London to meet Billimoria and Sweta for their advice and to make arrangements to receive Mut’s father-Dikshidar.  Homi and Sweta promised all help and said- ‘Do not worry Mut. We will soften him up before he lands up in Manchester. If you have any elderly English friends introduce him to Dikshidar as you cannot spend all your time with him.’

     Sat had the bright idea of getting Rev.Entwhistle and Dikshidar together and arrange a seminar on Miscegenation. The reverend was enthusiastic and offered not only to organise it but also to put up Dikshidar.  Mut was like a cat on hot tin roof, scared of his father’s visit. His love life was at a standstill and left the girls guessing. He put in an effort and caught up with his studies. His tutor asked him –‘what got into you? Keep a control over your extracurricular activities. ‘

    On a cold blustery morning with snow in the air Dikshidar arrived in London. He was swathed head to tail in an assortment of heavy woollens, only his face visible with a vertical Iyengar caste mark on his forehead. ‘Oh my Gaaad. Look at what we have to deal with’ –said Homi.  ‘Shush. The poor dear must be frozen’- said Sweta. Within a week they unfroze him. They persuaded him ‘When in Rome do as the Romans Do.’ Rum and orange was accepted as sugary concoction essential for survival in the freezing weather. Sweta was accepted as Randavathu Penchaathi (second wife) –a common custom in Tamil Nadu. On food Dikshidar stuck to veggie food of boiled potatoes and carrots and milk. Billimoria introduced him to the Avesta and origin of holy fire. He was taken round the sights London and the place in the Tower where Ann Boleyn was beheaded fascinated him. He thought it was neat solution to a diffficult problem.

     Dikshidar who landed in Manchester was a  version of the father that Mut knew and feared.  Sweta and Billy had done their job. He had the true pioneering spirit of his ancestor Ramanuja and had rediscovered the spirit of enquiry. So the visit took off without any hiccups. Surprisingly he hit off well with the reverend the first exchange settling the relationship on a friendly tone. Entwhistle–' Dikshidar -you do not go anywhere without your caste mark?' Like a shot came the reply-‘Like you Entwhistle with your dog collar!’

     Entwhistle insisted in having Mut’s father as his house guest and soon introduced him to the delights of English Port. Then there was the trip to Lake District and to Wordsworth cottage in Grasmere.  Dikshidar was so taken up that he stood before the cottage and recited the poem – ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud--------‘  to the handclaps from  a delighted Enwhistle. Back to Manchester and a few days later the seminar on Miscagenation with a large audience of girls and students attracted by the bountiful food and festival atmosphere. The two principal  speakers had their long winded presentation. Dikshidar stole the show with his long coat, veshti tucked between his legs, polished black shoes, the gold laced turban and his caste mark on the forehead shining in all its glory. The audience was amused at his stilted sing song English embellished with quotations from Shakespeare, Milton, Keats, Wordsworth and Churchill. He was an ace debater and soon had Entwhistle gasping for words. Living in England, the pretty girls and uninhibited talk and behaviour, the disciple of the people even after the long war and of course the Port did mellow his rigid views. By the time he left he told Mut ‘Do anything within reason, do not get into trouble, and  adopt the ‘love them leave them Joe attitude’. In any case anything can be purified by proper homams and poojas.  Much to Entwhistle’s annoyance Dikshidar views on Miscegenation changed to qualified acceptance.

    Mut made a request to his father to leave his gold laced turban behind as his turban had become very shabby and torn.  Dikshidar was so touched that he left his turban and angavastram behind and went home covering his head in a homburg. On returning home Dikshidar gave a series lectures ‘Bearding the British lion in its own den’ and wrote articles on ‘Beating the British in tests’.

    Dikshidar’s visit had a chastening effect on Mut and he shifted to controlled extracurricular activities though his popularity went up with the new gold lace turban with a red and green bands. The girls had not had this sort of experience being made love to by a turbaned boy who managed to keep it on without dislodging throughout. Sat who had been the balanced one all these days started wondering whether he was missing out on the fun. Dikshidar’s slow metamorphosis after four weeks stay set him thinking. ‘Was he missing out on the fun and being too studious’ -he thought to himself. He did not have the advantage of gold laced turban which Mut refused even lend him. To have a distinctive appearance he stated growing his hair into a pony tail when the fashion was a crew cut. He adopted a ‘Beatle’ look much before they were known. Sat was a born musician with an in born talent for appreciating and enjoying all types of music. In his spare time he took lessons on western music.

    Manchester in those years was the home to a young, vibrant Irish community very busy spreading news about the British atrocities against Irish and Sinn Fein.  There was a preponderance of pretty Irish girls who made contact with ex colonials to gain their sympathy. Mut became friendly with an Irish girl with a flaming red hair and green eyes. This changed his life style of jumping from bed to bed. A tough no nonsense girl came into his life and he was bowled over. Dierdre Mac Dhonnchada, from Killlarney, educated at Oxford and a willing recruit to the propaganda wing of I.R.A was to use her charm, wit and education to tell the ex colonials how bad and uncivilised the Brits were.  Mut was smitten by the Irish Kaleen and Dierde succumbed to the Indian snake charmer’s wiles.  Dierdre soon took charge and made Mut pay more attention to his studies. His philandering became a thing of the past and he became ‘steady’. His spare time was spent in assisting Dierde with her propaganda work.    With all his charm and gold laced turban Mut never got beyond kissing and fondling. Dierdre attitude was thus far and no further and strangely enough Mut went along with it and became a single girl friend fellow much to every one’s surprise.

    Sat met became friends with a Jamaican girl by name Kimberly Ganesh. She was studying photography and being a talented singer was a part of West Indian music group who played in night clubs. She was a vivacious girl of many interests, fair of complexion and curly hair. They became friends and were constant companions. Sat’s musicality, his ability to sing and compose songs and sing in mixed Tamil, Malayalam and English, together with his skill at drum beats and his newly acquired skill with the guitar got him into the West Indian band. Soon Kimberly and Sat became a star attraction. Friendship turned to love and soon Kimberly made clear that she expected to tie the knot with him in the near future. Sat was introduced to Kimberly’s family- her mother and brother. Clyde Ganesh was a  big made burly Jamaican giant who when crossed could turn really nasty. Sat was able to put off Kimberly and gain time till his viva was over.

     Mut in the mean time had come to terms with his studies and doing well. All his spare time was spent with Dierdre and Irish propaganda work. Dierdre took him to Eire and showed him round Dublin and especially the post office the scene of the 1916 Easter rising and British action. Back they came to Manchester loaded with propaganda material to be sent to India.  

    After their initial hiccups both Mut and Sat did well in their viva and were waiting for the graduation day to get their degrees. They were discussing their future plans when unexpected events caught them unawares. As soon as the graduation day was announced Sat and Mut decided to hold a joint celebration after the graduation ceremony. Sat informed Kimberly and Mut try as he did many times could not get hold of Dierdee.

    Mut’s and Sat’s fathers were taking active steps to see that their sons returned home safe after graduation without lingering on. They had already lined a few girls for them and wanted to marry them off. Mut’s father was aware of the dangers as he had seen the life for himself. Boys will be boys but thus far and no further was his dictum. They bombarded their sons with weekly letters but Mut and Sat pretended they did not receive the awkward ones. This was easy as the letters came my sea mail and took three weeks and very often were lost in transit. They were very happy and planned to continue In Manchester for some more time and there was the added attraction of Dierdre and Kimberly. They knew what awaited them back home.

    Plans go awry often without prior notice. Sometimes you are confronted with near disasters. Surprisingly this happened to Sat and Mut and almost at the same time.  Clyde Ganesh turned up late one evening, just a week before the graduation. He had a bottle of Jamaican Rum and singing

 ‘You did it, did it

Boyo you did it’

He gave a big slap on Sat's shoulder’s which sent him reeling. ‘What have been doing to my little Sis? She is having morning sickness. You slimy bastard. Kim is in seventh heaven. Going back to roots. Here have a swig of rum from our home town to celebrate.’ Sat just collapsed. He looked shocked and pale and muttered ‘But but we were careful’.

Clyde-‘what is the matter with you. You look like a ghost instead of beaming with joy.  Or are you trying to get out of it? If you are thinking of washing your hands off forget it. I will pulverise and drop you into the Manchester Shipping Canal.  The celebration is tomorrow evening at my place with a few friends. See you’.

 He walked out singing ‘Rum for two,

Two for rum

Sis will raise a family’.

For once in his life Sat was scared to death. He packed a small suitcase, caught a bus to Piccadilly station and got on  the night train to London.

    At about the same time Mut had a visitor from a Manchester police officer. After the initial courtesies, the officer closely questioned Mut  on his relationship with Deirdre. The police had closely watching the Irish in Manchester suspected of association with IRA and Dierdee was suspected of anti war propaganda towards the end of the war. The police officer after listening to Mut  said-‘Mr.Muthusway .You have not told me the full story. We know because we have been keeping an eye on both of you. Please hand over all the propaganda pamphlets. You should not misuse the hospitality of this country which has given you excellent education at subsided cost. Do not try to contact your friend. She has gone off to Eire’ The officer collected the bundle of propaganda papers and said ‘Good bye Sir’ and walked out. Mut was thoroughly rattled and spent a sleepless night. Next morning he packed his bags and took the train to London.

     Sat and Mut made their way to P and O offices in Leaden Hall Street to book a passage to India. They were surprised to meet there and talked about the mess they had landed themselves. They agreed that a quick retreat back to India was the safest option. The problem was that no berths were available for three months. The air travel was too expensive. They were sitting despondently wondering what to do.  In walked Billimoria to the boy’s delight. They were all over him to explain their dangerous predicament. Homi laughed at their problem. He told Sat that Kimberly and her brother were trying to pull a fast one on him but that discretion was better part of valour. He told Mut that Deidre was a well known activist of the I.R.A and that he had a narrow escape.  He was now working for Mackinnon’s of Bombay who were the agents for P.O. He arranged berths for them. ‘Boys. You have the lowest deck. No first class for you this time’.  

    So the chastened boys made their way back to Bombay took the Bombay Mail to Madras where they were received by their families with nadaswarm music, caparisoned elephant, and garlands galore. Did they miss Mancunium? Not for the first few months with memories Clyde and Deidre still fresh.

Raja Ramakrishnan

5^th September 2011

It is called in ancient Gaelic  ‘usige beatha’, meaning water of life. Over time it changed to ‘usquebaugh’ and phonetically changed to ‘uskey’ and in English to  ‘whisky’. Through the moors, who refined the ancient Mesopotamian art of distillation to make alcohol, which they were not supposed to imbibe but did, it found its way to the land of St.Patrick. Here, the monks brought not only the word of god but also the secret of alcohol distillation.

The Irish monks of the Emerald Isles used this process to produce a fiery distillate from malted barley and grains to  keep themselves warm from the cold wintry weather. They refined the stills and a Dublin man Aeneas Coffey perfected the design of the continuous still which increased the production and brought costs down and improved quality. They were no takers in Ireland and he sold his invention to the Scots who used it to take over the whisky market and become world leaders. The traditional luck of the Irish held. Before this the Irish had the biggest market.

"Being moderately taken,
it slows the age,
it cuts phlegm,
it lightens the mind,
it quickens the spirit,
it cures the dropsy,
it heals the strangulation,
it pounces the stone,
its repels gravel,
it pulls away ventositie,
it keeps and preserves the head from whirling,
the eyes from dazzling,
the tongue from lisping,
the mouth from snuffling,
the teeth from chattering,
the throat from rattling,
the weasan from stiffing,
the stomach from womblying,
the heart from swelling,
the belly from wincing,
the guts from rumbling,
the hands from shivering,
the sinews from shrinking,
the veins from crumpling,
the bones from aching,
the marrow from soaking,
and truly it is a sovereign liquor
if it be orderly taken
(poem of Raphael Holligshead)

  The original whisky was drunk neat, fresh without ageing and was a potent and sometimes dangerous drink. Serendipity played a part when a years-old forgotten cask of whisky was tasted by an adventurous soul and thus was born the present day smooth, aroma laden nectar.

 Once the Scots took over whisky making with continuous stills, Scotch became the premier whisky with an unmatched multitude of distinctive flavours and aromas. The continuous battles with England till the Union did not deter the Scots. If anything it added to distilleries all over the highlands and lowlands and the northern Isles which were beyond the reach of the English. Whisky is made in a number of countries of the world but none has captured the connoisseurs as Scotch has done. All whisky is made from fermented grains or barley except in India where molasses is mainly used.

 Alcoholic drinks and taxation go together. We are given the impression that the authorities do it to prevent alcoholism. Don’t you believe it. It is one of the items that can be taxed without the drinker objecting till the rates are so high that he suddenly finds he is out of money. Scotch whisky was taxed by the Scottish exchequer in 1494- probably the first taxation on whisky. However the first major taxation of whisky by the Scottish government was in 1644 because of the shortage of barley harvest. The tax was used to finance the royalist army. The history of taxation on whisky has had its ups and downs for the industry. Dissolution of the monasteries by Henry VIII moved production from monasteries to homes and farms and was the start of the independent distilleries.

Poetry and whisky went together and no other drink came claim this lofty association. One of Scotland’s greatest poets cried out, when the duty free concession was withdrawn from the Ferintosh distillery in 1785,

Thee, Ferintosh! O sadly lost!
Scotland lament frae coast to coast! 
Now colic grips, an barkin hoast
May kill us a';
For loyal Forbes' charter'd boast
Is taen awa!
Thae curst horse-leeches o th' Excise,
Wha mak the whisky stells their prize!
Haud up thy han', Deil! ance, twice, thrice!
There, seize the blinkers!

Robert Burns was fond of whisky and Frintosh was his favourite. Fate had the last laugh when a few years later due to financial reasons Burns had to become an excise inspector! Burns’ poetry however flourished no doubt inspired by the drams of whisky. ‘ Freedom and whisky gang thegither ‘ wrote Robert Burns and a never a truer noble statement had been made.

When wanting thee, what tuneless cranks
      Are my poor verses!
Thou comes - they rattle in their ranks, 
      At ither's arses!

Fortune!  if thou but gie me still
Hale breeks, a scone, an' whisky gill,
An' rowth o' rhyme to rave at will, 
      Tak a' the rest,
An' deal't about as thy blind skill
      Directs thee best.

By the 19th century a measure of stabilisation had taken place and production exceeded local demand and exports started. The early patronage by the royalty like Elizabeth 1 and James IV and the involvement of monks in the early stages had established its credentials. Unlike rum and gin it was an upmarket drink and has remained so to this day. Even the attempts to upgrade gin by present British female royalty has not knocked whisky off its lofty pedestal . The excise act of 1823 reduced the number of illicit moonshine distilleries and put things on an even keel by encouraging legitimate distilleries to grow and concentrate on improvement of quality. The continuous still of Coffey was introduced and production of grain whisky took off. This brought in the blending revolution of malt and grain whisky. The next boost to Scotch whisky was given by phylloxera beetle which decimated the French vineyards in 1880s and enabled whisky to take over the place of Brandy. All these small events added up and Scotch whisky was on a roll. Whisky could be produced anywhere in the world but only in Scotland could the combination of water, peat , and the isolated places of distilleries away from all industrial pollution and distilleries of small and medium size concentrating on their specialities  can this nectar be made. Add to this the farsighted vision of not going for quick bucks but holding on the whisky to age in wooden barrels produced not only nectar but also good bucks.

Whisky exports took off by the middle of 19th century and have not looked back since then. The ex colony, the dominions, the colonies had the privilege of enjoying the nectar and paying for it adding to the finances of the mother country. The scotch  exports to India started in to increase by mid nineteenth century establishing itself as an elite drink for high ranking civil servants and army officers. Scotch in India was used by the rulers as a weapon for furthering, extending and consolidating the Imperia. For a small nation far away, with a population a fraction of the ruled, it required strategy and use of ideas to achieve not only mastery but also the respect of the ruled.  Queen Victoria was revered and the former Indian rulers who a few decades fought the English lined up to pay her homage.

In the initial stages the English had unemployed Scots and Irish to fight for them. Later they recruited Indian mercenary sepoys in large numbers to fight for them. After the so called Indian Mutiny the English not only learned the lesson but managed to get the loyalty of sepoys by making the commanders figures of respect. The officer’s fancy dress uniforms in striking colours must have the most uncomfortable dress to wear in Indian heat but caught the sepoy’s attention and respect. Rum rations were given to sepoys- a master step as a couple of pegs of the fiery stuff removed their fear and instilled courage long enough to last before they were shot in battle! For the officers Gin was reserved for the afternoon shots and night was of course Scotch.

With the expansion of the Indian Empire and additional work of administration there was need for additional hands which could not be found in their Isles. Careful induction of locals in the civil services and army in position of responsibility, of course under the eye of their own men, started after due education and indoctrination. They were introduced to the pleasures of Scotch and the strangle hold was in place. In army messes the evening whisky and soda became a part of the drill to get ahead for Indian officers and  they quickly succumbed. Indian recruits to the Indian civil service took it up in big way. Word seems to have spread round about the magical power of whisky and soon very conservative Indians took to the habit of afternoon G&T and evening pegs of Scotch. The very conservative Iyengars and Iyers  salved  their conscience and purified the ferangi drink by adding a sprig of basil. The Brits had the secret weapon in place and were able to hold on to their Jewel in the Crown till 1947 for over two hundred years. They tried the same trick with Chinese with opium but then the opium did not have the magical powers like the Scottish nectar!

Even though Scotch was exported to a captive market, the whisky distributors in U.K had very innovative ideas of brand creation. They were well known established brands exported all over the world like the Red label and Black label, also brands with typical Scottish names like Ballantines and old Grouse. They created special names for specific markets like Cutty Sark for the U.S and the Black Dog for India. The fascination with blacks continued with the Black label and Black and White. To counteract they had the White Label.  Any whisky labelled Black surprisingly was good- the Black label is even today considered one of the best blended scotch whiskeys. People did wonder the proclivity to use Black for high quality. There is the story of a carnatic musician who remarked after his first sip of Black Dog, after checking the name -'  Will anyone but a White man name a divine nectar like this a Black Dog?’

The end of World War 2 saw a sea of change. The Brits lost the Jewel in the Crown. Independent India introduced prohibition and brought in import restrictions to save foreign exchange. Was the Scotch hold over India lost? For a time things looked bleak but neither the colonels nor civil servants could be off whisky and so limited imports let in a trickle. Soon the port cities were used by smugglers, and as air travel to Singapore increased there were flights which were a smugglers run. So if you could afford the price scotch was available with a little effort.

All over the world Scotch faced competition with Vodka taking a big slice in the U.S.A. The old serendipitous discovery of maturing in oak casks was fully capitalised. Then the wily Scots unleashed their Malt whisky aimed at the top markets with an unmatched variety of subtle and sometimes strong flavours. There was no looking back and the old tottering empire struck back. They did not aim for mass market but only snooty up markets first in the U.S.A and soon in the developing markets of the Far East- Japan, China and our own India. Scotch, which was the favourite tipple of Indian P.Ms from Nehru to Vajpayee and brown sahibs and generals and colonels of the subcontinent, soon found its feet and took off after the 1990s. Red Label parties were replaced by Black Label Parties, then Glenfiddich and now they serve only Laguvalin. So much so that Laguvalin was in short supply .

There have been takeovers of Scottish distilleries by large liquor makers but fortunately they realised that the strength was in the diversity and that more money could be made by strategic thinking and planning. Each distillery was like a new vineyard and here was a hard drink with the diversity and mystery of wine. It did not have the vagaries of grape growth. A cottage industry of illicit distilleries started by the Scots to produce a liquor to keep warm has become a secret weapon in the hands of Great Britain to bolster their tottering economy. We quote below the deputy Prime Minister of U.K on the exports of Scotch.  

‘ Speaking at the Strathisla Distillery in Keith, Scotland - the home of Pernod Ricard’s icon brand Chivas Regal, Mr Clegg said: “I would like to raise a toast to the Scotch whisky industry, as 2010 shapes up to have been a record year for exports. I was glad to see evidence this morning of the verve and ambition in Scottish industry.’

History is full of surprises. Who would have thought that the Scots, whose noses had been bloodied by the English over centuries, first fought for them and then helped the English to administer the Jewel in the Crown. And now they are providing the means to bolster the economy! The Brits must be happy to provide the denizens of their former Jewel in the Crown much needed refreshment to help them to run their country on their own.   

The Scots are no fools. They are saving their Scotch from extinction and giving it immortality.

All the lovely photos and drawing are taken from the internet from Scotch whisky and distilleries sites and my grateful thanks to them.

The inspiration for this blog came from watching from Sekar sipping his Malt and enjoying it over a long evening. One bequeaths a lot of things to our children and the most precious is the ability to enjoy this nectar from Isles half a world away. And so I dedicate to this to Sekar, a connoisseur of Malt with a little push from me and a big shove from my cousin Manash.

To make things even, I also dedicate this to Kamini, who hates Scotch, but has the unerring ability to pick up good malt for me.

Lastly my thanks to the unknown organisation in U.K who took me on a whisky trail in the middle of last century.

R. Ramakrishnan, 30th April, 2011

I dedicate this to Raghu Sundaram - a perfect gentleman and an eclectic Iyengar.

 Part 1

    The concept of lines, angles, verticality and horizontality was first recorded by the Greeks though it had been used much earlier by the Babylonians and the Egyptians in the constriction of ziggurats and pyramids. It is however the Hindus of India who first used it to differentiate two of their philosophies.

                                                     Horizontal - Iyer Namam 
                                                                              Vertical - Iyengar Namam

     In the 9th century of the Christian era Hinduism was in a ferment with Buddhism on the rise. Sankara, the nambudiri from Kerala, not only gave us the advaida philosophy but also by travelling all over India reaffirmed the pan Indian aspect of Hinduism and established matams in the four corners of India. Inspired by the Buddha he adopted Buddhist methods of strengthening the religion. Following the footsteps of the Alwars and their prabandhams came another great south Indian, Ramanujam,  who gave a different philosophical twist to advaida called Vishistaadvaida. He wanted non Brahmins to be assimilated into Hindu society- a very far sighted idea.

    Sankara and Ramanujam not only revived Hinduism but probably in hindsight also saved it. Ramanujam's followers became what they considered a superior version of Brahmins and distinguished themselves by the vertical namam on their foreheads. The Iyers had Siva as their main deity while the Iyengars had Vishnu as their main deity. The Iyengars with their vertical namams established themselves as a select superior community and kept themselves as separate from the Iyers. The aggressive vertical namam with a central red line denoted a superiority that all the attempts at making the horizontal namam superior failed. You have only look at Chembai Vaidyanatha  Baghavathar's forehead and Ariakudi Ramanuja Iyengar's forehead to see the difference.

                    

                Benz grill                         BMW grill
 
    The pictures above of Mercedes Benz and BWM front grills illustrate the importance of the horizontal and the vertical namams. There is a battle royal between the makers and they are using the namams to show their superiority. What had taken the Germans centuries to appreciate in terms of the importance of differentiating products with a distinctive appearance was known to the Hindus long ago. The next is to build exclusivity and in this also the Germans have toed the Hindu lead. Though the Americans caught on early to the concept of superiority by inventing the phrase “Boston Brahmins” they did not take the next step which the Germans did and this could explain why the Benz and BMW easily outdid the Cadillacs and Lincolns!

     Now back to more sublime matters after this short foray into mundane matters. A lot has been written and said about Hinduism by people like Vivekananda and S.Radhakrishnan. Hinduism has no Book of Revelations on which the religion is strictly based and interpreted like other religions and this is its strength and weakness. Hinduism seems to reinvent itself whenever faced by challenges and this   explains its continued practice and vibrancy today. A religion prepared to accept Buddha as an avatar has a lot going for it. Sankara, Ramanujam and Madhavachari gave it that important fillip in the ninth and tenth centuries. It had unexpected consequences at the social level and customs and this is an attempt at exploring these in a light hearted way.

     After Sankara's Nirgunabrahmam (God without any attributes) we have Ramanujas's friendly and human Bhavanasundaram where he reconciled many controversies. Ramanuja's philosophy was easier on the mind and down to earth. Ramanuja is said to have preached his views from the temple top in Tirukottiyur.

                       
 
 Sri Ramaujar temple                         Sri Rangam temple

      Sri Perambadur, his birth place is a charming village agraharam that gave a view of old life in Tamil Nadu. Alas after Rajiv Gandhi's assasination here, this place has changed into an Indian Detroit and the lovely village languishes with fading memories of its great son. Ramanujam went to Sri Rangam and preached and managed the temple affairs there. Soon he had an elite ardent group of disciples. Though Vaishnavism owed its origins to Azhwars, Alavandar and Nathamuni, Ramanujam put it on a firm footing with his vishistadvaida and his superb organising skills.

    There are stories that fights broke out between the Saivaite Brahmins and Ramanujam's Vashnavite followers and that Ramanujam had fled to the Karnataka region. Ramanujam is said to have stayed in Tondanam near the Yadugiri hills to get the high quality white clay for the Iyengar’s Namam. This clay had mica particles and when ground and dried gave a caste mark which sparkled in the light. Tirunarayana temple was built in Melkote nearby.Thanks to Ramanujam this temple had the unique distinction even in those days of allowing outcasts inside on designated days. It is a fact that even today there are pockets of very traditional Iyegars in Hebbal , Melkote and Mandya testifying to the migration to Karnataka. 

                                                                     Iyers            

                                                                  Iyengars

        What started as an argument for the supremacy of Vishnu and Siva worship ended up as schisms of the Brahmins into two distinct sects with their own rituals and temples. To Ramanujam must go the credit of giving Vaishnavism a distinct philosophy, a distinct set of rituals, and even the white clay which gave the shining namam which vibothi could not match. His organising skills and ability to attract devotees helped to put Vaishnavism on a firm footing, and they regarded themselves as superior to Iyers. They made this group who coined the name Iyengars very distinct by subtle changes in rituals, dress, food and of course the famous Iyengar vertical namam. The only thing they seemed to have ignored was Ramaujam's humanism. One is reminded of the U.S.A after its war of independence from Britain adopting different standards like 110 volts, the switch with the on position on top, the American gallon and so many other things with changes to make them distinct. Iyengars did it ten centuries ago! 

                                                   Vishnu Ananthasasayanam                                                                                                                                       
         Siva's Cosmic Dance

    Before we go further please have a look above at the pictures of Vishnu and Siva and you get idea of the deep divide between the Vaishnavites and Saivaites ten centuries ago without reading Sankara's and Ramanujam's philosophies. It is difficult for humans to think of God without human attributes. The only exception seems to be Islam. A Sankara, Ramanujam or the Vedas might try to imagine an abstract God but for the bulk of the people this is just not on. So we have above lovely pictures of Vishnu and Siva. My favourite is Vishnu relaxing on a snake, with an antenna, capped by Brahma to collect information, sticking out of his navel. He seems to be floating in a calm sea. This is an omnipotent God in all his Glory. Siva, by contrast is all fire and fury in a cosmic dance pose of sublime beauty, another aspect of the divine.

    These was the big divide of the Hindus and their life and social customs and haas evolved down to the present day as Iyers and Iyengars - Horizontal and Vertical. Soon the Iyengars spilt themselves into vadakalai (northern) and thengalai (southern). The vadakalai Iyengars gave importance to the original Vedas while the thengalais gave equal importance to what is called the southern Vedas. The Iyengar namam was modified by the thengalais to make a slight extension at the base of the vertical namam.

            

          Vadakalai                                         Thengalai

    Down the centuries after Ramanujam the worshippers of Vishnu organised themselves into a distinctive, superior group with well-defined customs. After the vertical namam came the temple rituals and the food and dress. They became a close knit community which kept to themselves and did not marry outside. Purity and exclusivity was fostered. In due course they developed a hubris and belief in their innate superiority. Ramanujam’s humanity and inclusiveness seems to have been given the go by. Even today in the 21st century we have Iyengars in Melkote and Hebbal in Karnataka who have preserved the original social customs and practices of the Ramanujam era.

To be continued.

All photos courtesy the Internet

      Towards the end of the nineteenth century, brahmin communities were settled down in villages in Palakkad and life seemed to go on smoothly. The lands around were fertile and suitable for paddy cultivation and there was abundant cheap labor to till the land. Even the intrusions of Hyder and Tippo barely affected them. The Nairs did the fighting and bore the brunt of Tippo's wrath. So the Palakkad brahmins had a easy life and plenty of time to lead a life of studies and rituals. It was a very closed community which mixed little and intermarried a lot. They kept up their traditions. However there were the odd trailblazers as in the past who saw ahead and were the pioneers but for whom the community would not have survived all these centuries. One such was Venkatasubba Sastry of Noorni village.

       The monsoon had set in and with a stiff breeze the water was being sprayed all over like waves. You could just see the outlines of the houses. On the slushy road by the side of a few small houses you could just make out the figure of a man clutching a palm leaf umbrella, his tuft of hair flying in the breeze and his dhoti tied like a loin cloth. Up and down walked Sastry, splashing the muddy water with his wooden clogs. He seemed to be muttering to himself and in deep concentration. The neighbors did not bother with him and his family ignored him. They knew that when Sastry was in one of his moods it was better to leave him alone. 

      The village of Noorni was one of the brahmin villages near Palakkad, a small settlement which you reached by a mountain path from the plains of Kovai. After the end of the Chola rule the brahmin priests found that life was no longer easy in Tanjavur and the Kavery delta lands with dwindling patronage from royal houses. The great migration started to different parts of the south and one of the places they migrated to was to Palakkad where the terrain and weather made cultivation of paddy profitable. Local labor was available and life settled down to an easy one with enough time to spend on studies and worship. The times were however unsettled. The arrival of the British in the south and their slow expansion changed the settled life.

     Sastry was thinking of all this when he was walking in the pouring rain. He was barely aware of being drenched by the rain. The British were there to stay and no one was going to dislodge them. You had to accept that no other ruler or power was going to dislodge then in the near future - neither the French nor the Muslims. As for the Hindus they had their last flicker in the Vijayanagar kingdom. Sastry was an unconventional thinker and in the village he was considered a crank. He realized that the brahmin families’ way of life was bound to change and that to be on top they had to change. Few realized that they had done it in the past. Though the majority stuck to priesthood, there had been generals, politicians and even kings. Sastry concluded that for his children the way to go ahead was to have English education. The sooner he was able to arrange for this the greater would be the head start they would have. This was going to cost money and he did know how was he going to manage it. It was past midnight and Sastry decided to turn in.

      Mrs. Sastry was anxiously awaiting him. She took his umbrella, took off his clogs, washed his legs with warm water and dried him.

“Are you OK?  You get some sleep now.”  - Mrs. Sastry. 

“Do not worry Alamelu. I know what to do. There are some details to be worked out. I will have a walk on Fort ramparts tomorrow and work it out.” -Sastry.

       Mrs. Sastry was aware of the turmoil her husband was going through. She was glad that unlike others in the village who had a habit of doing nothing and leaving every thing to fate and god, Sastry was firm believer in the tenet that God helps those who strive and help themselves. Behind his rough exterior was a kind and considerate man who loved his wife and children and would do anything for them. He was a man of deep knowledge who was consulted by many.

     Early next morning, before the sunrise Sastry was on the ramparts of the Hyder Tippo fort talking to himself. The way to survive and prosper was to give his children English education so that they could take up jobs with English government. When the British were driven out this education would give them a head start. This was better than being part of the landed gentry. In any case they would lose their lands when the peasant laborers became smarter. Sastry gave the impression of a very orthodox brahmin who believed in rituals. Inwardly he realised that the heart of Brahmanism meant appreciation and love of knowledge and the ability to question things and arrive at your own answers. He realised that only a wise minority among the brahmins appreciated this.

      It was a misty morning with a fine drizzle of rain and all round him were the paddy fields and in the distance the blue hills. Where else would he see such a beautiful sight?  The sun peeped out and there was the unusual sight of a rainbow in the morning. Sastry took it a sign from the Gods. He walked back to the village and having washed his legs sat on a mat in the veranda of his house and had his morning coffee and tiffin. He explained that he had come to the conclusion that for the sake of the children it was better to move on so that he could give them an English education. This came as no surprise to Mrs. Sastry as her husband had been talking about this for some days.

      Then Sastry started the long preparations to execute his ideas .He did not tell anyone his complete plans except to inform his neighbors that he was migrating with his family to try to better his life. He made arrangements with his close relatives to take over his house and lands so that it remained in the family. His friends and neighbors tried to dissuade him from his mad venture but Sastry was firm. 'Mark my words' said Sastry to his friends 'A hundred years from now all of you would have lost your lands to your tillers. His relatives and neighbors laughed at his madness at leaving a well settled life and risking every thing for an unknown future. They were in awe of his knowledge but did not approve of his unconventional ideas.

      Sastry's plan was to make his way to distant Mysore which was ruled by the Wodiyar maharaja. After the Mysore wars he was reinstated by the British in his old throne.  He was a Sanskrit scholar interested in music and in his court, scholars and musicians were patronized and given generous grants. Sastry was confident of impressing the Maharajah and getting a job as a scholar. The Maharajah might even help with the education of his children.

      Sastry and family set out in a bullock cart on an auspicious day.  We of the present generation cannot grasp the enormity of the difficulties of the journey across the southern Indian peninsula. The only mode of transport was the bullock cart on bumpy and slushy tracks. You covered a few miles a day and lodging and rest places were far and few. You slept in the cart or in the open if the weather permitted. You cooked your own food on the way. You changed the cart at every village and had to find a new one. The journey was made more burdensome with young children. This was what Sastry set out to do. 

     Sastry had an iron will and determination to achieve what he wanted to do. He was gifted with an even temper and persuasive skills of the highest order. He was gifted with a wife who was prepared to go all the way for him and even came up with ideas whenever they faced a problem. Sastry was way ahead of his generation in his attitude towards women. When he was stumped he consulted his wife. In spite of all this the journey was tumultuous. Hot words were exchanged. The children were misplaced some times and they had to go back and pick them.

      The journey was made easier by Sastry's charisma and communications skills. He could charm anyone by his soft manners and once you started talking to him you realised that you were in the presence of a person of deep knowledge, vision and compassion. At every village halt he would visit the agraharam and introduce himself. It did not take long for the villagers to realise that they were in the presence of a gifted man. They were welcomed and treated as honoured guests. Sastry's reputation as wise man spread ahead him and at every halt he was given a rousing welcome and help.

       Coming down the Palakkad gap into the Kovai plains Sastry and family made their way to Srirangam temple on the Kaveri river. Here also he was well received and stayed on for a few weeks before slowly climbing the Mysore plateau. This was the route of the Chola and Chalukyas armies in their constant battles. Finally they made it to Bangaluru village. They had a well earned rest and proceeded to Mysore before the monsoon set in to cross the Kaveri at Srirangapattinam. On the way they stayed at the Sriranga temple at Sivasamudra on an island in the Kaveri river. Then on to Srirangapattinam, and the  Ranga remple. Finally they arrived in Mysore after a six month journey. Mrs. Sastry and the children were relieved that the back-breaking bullock cart travel was over and that they could rest for a few days.

       Sastry was full of energy and wanted to get on with the job. The very next day he took his family to show them the maharajah's palace and their eyes popped at the magnificent sight of the palace lit up by lamps. Sastry contacted a few contacts for help in approaching the maharajah. He was told that he was a very learned man well versed in Sanskrit and music and a very generous patron. There was a gathering of learned scholars the following week at the palace where the maharajah sat among them and had discussions. Sastry friend's arranged to introduce him as a scholar from Palakkad.

      The Maharajah had these gathering of scholars and musicians at frequent intervals when he listened and interacted with them as one of them. This was his way of encouraging scholars and musicians to exchange ideas and to innovate. Whenever a new person was brought he had to be briefly introduced by the person who brought him. Then he had to say a few words on his work or music. Sastry with his charisma, melodic voice and deep knowledge made an impression on the maharajah.  He made further inquiries about him and sent for him for a personal chat. Saying that he wanted this jewel of a man for himself he appointed him as the personal teacher of his children.

      Sastry was happy and settled down to a very satisfying career where he had a lot of free time for his scholarly activities. When his children grew up he explained to the Maharajah that he would like them to educated in English colleges for a career with the British Government. They had been educated in Sanskrit and our knowledge and this would make them fend for themselves and who knows, even help our country in the future. The Maharajah totally agreed with him and gave him generous financial help. Sastry also arranged the marriage of his daughters. Those days girls were married at a young age and he kept to the custom.

    As far as his sons were concerned Sastry did not care about the customs but decided to give them the best education to help them in the future. His fist son was similar to him in his outlook. The second son Padmanabhan was traditional and did not want to change his way of life.The third son was more adventurous and off the main stream.  Sastry decided to concentrate on the first and third sons.

     Sastry took his first son Ananthanarayanan to Madras and admitted him to the B.A. course in Presidency College. Ananthanarayanan passed out with flying colours and was a Gold medalist. He was immediately offered a job by the government in the revenue department in Nellore. He was highly thought of by the government for his efficiency and integrity. He climbed up the bureaucratic ladder fast. He lead a full social life in the community and was respected as an English and Sanskrit scholar. He was a talented astrologer consulted by many. 

     The third son Mahadevan was also very well versed in Sanskrit but was very untraditional. When Sastry took him to Madras he had a look at the General Hospital near the Central Station and told his father, " I want to study there". Sastry being a wise man, agreed, and Mahadevam took his L.M.PandS. He was a brilliant student and the mnemonic training of the brahmins had given him an encyclopedic memory capability which helped him with his medical studies. In addition he had the rare ability not to take things for granted but to experiment.

      Then the First World War started and the British relied heavily on Indian manpower to fight their battles. This helped both Ananthanarayanan and Mahadevan in their respective careers. Ananthanarayanan worked full time in recruiting people for the war. In fact he was so successful that his work was recognised at the end of the war with promotions and he got to the top position in the revenue department in Nellore. Ananthanarayanan was very a well regarded Sanskrit scholar. He had a collection of rare old Sanskrit manuscripts. He was in demand as an astrologer. Finally he was an expert in treatment of snake bites which were quite common those days. He died of diabetes after the war, deeply mourned by the local people.

     Mahadevan was more adventurous and got recruited to the Indian Medical Service and sent to Gallipoli as a doctor surgeon. There was a shortage of doctors to attend to the enormous number of causalities in this sector. Sastry was not happy but took it in his stride even when snide remarks were made about crossing the seas and becoming impure. Ananthanarayanan also fully supported his brother. Mahadevan made full use of the war to hone his skills as a doctor and surgeon on the battlefields of Gallipoli. At the end of the war he used the money he had earned to go to England to get the highest qualifications in medicine and surgery. He had a very successful career in the Indian Medical service.

      The second son also did well as a respected priest . Sastry died a very contented man having achieved what he set out to do. Sastry’s family did very well though as in all families there were one or two black sheep.

      Nearly a century after Sastry's death when he was a forgotten figure one of his great grandsons decided to find out about his ancestors and got the basic facts of Sastry's life. Another great grandson decided to write about Sastry. This story contains a lot of embellishments and imaginative reconstruction of the bare story. The writer apologizes for this but otherwise Sastry's courage and achievements would have not come through. Sastry's farsighted vision paid off and he would have been very happy with his descendants and their achievements. The Sastry family is very large now- so large that some of them do not know the others! A lot of them have made their mark and are spread out throughout world..

   Raja Ramakrishnan

   12th October 2009