Among the eight Ranganathan siblings that we are in the family today it is of interest to note that four of us were born in the pre-independence days and the other four after our country gained independence. This factor had its impact on the way the elder four of us were brought up, compared to my other brothers and sisters. Our father had just started his Government career as a low-rung Government servant, as a postal clerk and he could make both ends meet only with difficulty.
I saw the light of this earth actually in the year that the second world war started! The country had seen only penury even in the earlier days and the war had increased the misery of the people further. My Dad was in a town that was district headquarter. Vellore was in famous for a few things that were widely quoted those days, such as
-- river (Palaar) without water,
-- Fort without troops,
-- temple without Gods (the Murthi was lifftted away by the invading Muslims)
-- men without valour,
-- women without beauty and above all
>
-- a life without charm!
When one MLA quoted these uncharitable words in the Assembly, the other MLAs of North Arcot District pounced on him and tore him to pieces !
The Arcot Districts of Madras (Tamil Nadu now), North Arcot from which my father hailed and South Arcot from which my mother had her origin, were very similar in their traditions and modes of life. I even remember the address, viz. 16, Engineer Subbaraya Mudali Street, Vellore, in which we lived in a medium-sized house, one half of which we shared with the land-lord's family, who were orthodox Iyengars. I also remember the day when the police had visited our house after my father had complained of the theft of the silver plate in which he used to eat his meal. The police subsequently solved the case and the vagabond son of the landlord who was the culprit was to be arrested. The landlord and his wife made such an impassioned plea to my father to save him that he later withdrew the case. We continued to live in this house even after this incident until the day we left Vellore for a smaller town Cheyyar.
I recall the days of Vellore when my sister Chooda and I went to a primary school which was run by a single woman in her middle ages. She was steeped in such dire poverty that she had only one good saree which she wore on all the days, a brown saree with red dots thrown at an equidistance in the entire cloth. She was a nice affectionate woman and she taught us very well. She ran her school in a huge mandap (hall) of a temple for which she did not have to pay any rent. She taught us all the subjects, Tamil, Mathematics, Civics and a little Geography, dividing the periods as per her convenience. No English mind you ! There was a strong feeling against studying English those days as it was considered a relic of the disagreeable British ! In fact, I started learning my English alphabets only in my Seventh standard, which handicap my sisters and brothers did not have to face ! (My grandfather however gave me a primer with the help of which I learnt some English with his help). The teacher had made the first four classes occupy the four corners of the mandap and the seniors, the fifth standard children, sat at the center. While engaging one group of students with the lessons, she used to keep the other classes busy with assignments to be done then and there ! The school fee was an uniform 4 Annas (25 paise) per month per child. But many children paid even this amount with difficulty. The teacher was always neat and clean and was shrewd and perseverant in collecting her fees. I studied there upto 4th standard at the end of which class we left for Cheyyar.
Two incidents of Vellore come readily to my memory. One vendor used to sell "Kamarkattu" sweets (small balls made of coconut and jaggery) for one paisa each, which quite a few class mates of mine used to buy, chew and enjoy. I was escorting my sister Chooda to the school and she was always a quiet, disciplined type. She expressed a desire one day to taste "Kamarkattu". For us, pocket money was an unknown commodity. Our mother was very strict with us and would never allow us to buy anything on our own. She had kept 2 annas on the shelf to buy firewood which was the only fuel those days, as gas was unknown (It being war time, even kerosene was just not available in the market). I quietly pinched those 2 annas, bought a liberal supply of Kamarkattu, gave half of the share to my sister and ate away the other half ! Chooda too enjoyed it and this could be seen from the traces of its juice all over her face and clothes ! The mess that we had made of it did not escape my mother's notice ! When she asked Chooda for the source of what she ate she quietly pointed her fingers towards me ! My mother had already observed that her 2 annas were missing. She put two and two together and immediately concluded that I was the culprit. I got such a scolding on that day that I could never venture to take anything out from the house without my mother's knowledge. She had kept us firmly under her thumb, but later she was very liberal in her approach towards the younger children
When my second sister, Rukku, was about 3 years old, she too wanted to go to our "Mandap school" with us but I was reluctant to take her, as I was not confident of escorting 2 sisters and Rukku was too small to follow road rules.
One day she left on her own and lost her way. She was found crying on the road-side, standing near a shop that was selling. "Porikadalai" , "Pattani" (roasted peas, groundnuts, etc.) The owner of the shop called her in and gave her plenty of the commodities being sold by him. She was quite contented with what she got and had happily settled down to eat them to her heart's content. Meantime there was pandemonium in the house and search parties were sent in different directions. When my father found her fully concentrated in her work, he could not help laughing ! After this incident I had to escort both my sisters to the school. Pushpa was less than 2 years those days and was the naughtiest of the family (until Raghu came on the scene). My uncle Ananthalvar even now enacts how Pushpa used to smile at them to their faces and mock at them showing a distorted face the moment they turned around!
Those were the hard days and living was tough for every head of the family. During and after the war, there is always escalation of cost of all commodities and many found it difficult to manage the finances. There was however a national fervour and we could see groups of Congressmen class in their Khadis raising slogans demanding independence to India and denouncing the British. In the school, we used to enact such scenes and shout "Vellayane Veliyeru (Quit India)", " Mahathma Gandhikku Jai (Hail Mahatma Gandhi) " "Bharathamathvirku Jai (Hail Mother India)", etc. We did not know the significance of those slogans but they were indeed thrilling !
I can recall the day when India got independence. Every one, everywhere was jubilant, greeting one another. The joy was writ large on everybody's face! We got sweets from many sources and even petty shop owners distributed them. That way Swaraj was very welcome to us. The financial condition did not prevent them from celebrating the long awaited dawn of freedom.
Another incident, which I am able to recall with a heavy heart, was the day 
when Gandhi was assassinated! There was commotion and loud crying in the streets. Vellore had a sizeable Muslim population and many who had not known the full facts, thought that a Muslim had killed him. There were attempts to attack muslims and arson. Muslims ran for their lives for nearly 2 days. TV and other media of the present day were unknown them. It was known that only a fanatic Hindu had killed him only after sufficient damage was caused. My uncle Rajam, who had joined the Postal Department at that time, was staying with us in those days. He was much shaken up by the murder and fasted for 2 days, praying for Mahatma's soul.
Communication facilities were also not developed during those years. There were very few trains and buses. The trains from Madras to Bangalore or Madras to Nilgiris touched Katpadi, the railway junction to Vellore, only at midnight. My grand father, Sri Seshadri Iyengar, used to arrive from his son Gopu's house in Wellington or from his other relatives in Chennai only at the dead of night. We children used to go to bed by the time of his arrival. Our grandpa used to bring quite a few things for us but we could see them only the next day. He was a very affectionate person, extremely fond of all of us. In later years, when my father was sent to Guntur on promotion as Inspector of Post Offices, he could not take us to that place as the medium of instruction there was Telugu. Our grandpa, who continued to stay with us after my dad's departure to Guntur, was of immense help to the family. About him and of our life at Cheyyar, I will mention in my next article.
So long....
R.Narasimhan
February 2003