Memories & Musings - Tales of a Palakkad Boy

Memories and Musings
Tales of a Palakkad boy
R.S.Vaidyanathan

Written by R.S.Vaidyanathan
Printed at Real Impact Solutions, Chennai
June 2022

Contents
Introduction....................................................................................................... 1
Chapter 1: A boy from a small village in Kerala.............................................. 2
Chapter 1A: Two Anecdotes from Palakkad Days........................................... 4
Chapter 2: Aatma Nirbhar!! Swadeshi!!......................................................... 10
Chapter 3: Hindi Vocabulary and Friends ...................................................... 15
Chapter 4: Climbing up the ladder.................................................................. 17
Chapter 4A: Saga of Eggs!!............................................................................ 19
Chapter 5: New pastures and a brand-new journey ........................................ 21
Chapter 6: Southbound and the twists and turns of life.................................. 27
Chapter 7: When God closes a door, he opens a window! ............................. 31
Chapter 8: The wine experiment..................................................................... 35
Chapter 9: A place called Shikaripur.............................................................. 37
Chapter 10: A new and long chapter begins in Kolkata ................................. 39
Chapter 11: A journey through highs and lows .............................................. 44
Chapter 11A: A Test ....................................................................................... 46
Chapter 12: Our daughters grow..................................................................... 48
Chapter 13: The journey of life continues ...................................................... 51

1
Introduction
Jaya and my daughters have been encouraging me to write about my life’s
journey. I was hesitating about putting my thoughts into words and weave a sort
of tapestry. I wondered, though I have passed four score years and seven, have
I done something wonderful or eye catching that I can write about? One
evening I felt differently, that made me start putting down my memories. I
remembered being a fairly good speaker in my Rotary Club meetings and
technical associations. I also remembered that I used to keep the audience in
attention, especially when using anecdotes to laugh at myself, and could see
them laugh. When you reach a stage in life, I suppose, laughing at yourself
without malice or sarcasm shows a semblance of maturity. So here I go.
January 2022
Gurgaon
Image 1: Vaidyanathan and Jaya (Sumangal, Kolkata 2005)

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Chapter 1: A boy from a small village in Kerala
I was born in a remote village in Palakkad in Kerala, and grew up bound by
prevailing customs and behavioural patterns peculiar to villages in those days -
the early 1940s. Conservatism was the norm, and even my father’s siblings were
very much against his simple thinking of educating his children, both sons and
daughters even for high school, not to talk of college or University! Villagers
were aghast at such foolish thinking. The going faith was, first, that daughters
should be married off and second, that sons should only aspire for a job where
their father or other senior relatives are working, where the father or relatives
could put in a word to their superiors, to give a footing; preferably in
government jobs, pensionable, though the salary may be measly and the job
pretty servile!!
My father baulked at the idea. He stood his ground and I graduated, as did my
brother. Our sisters completed their high school education culminating in Class
10 - Senior School Leaving Certificate in those days, much to the chagrin of
villagers and his own siblings. He was branded an upstart since he was just a
Telegraph cum Post Master!!! He had a transferable job, moving place once
every three years, or sometimes even on shorter durations. My mother was a
very solid support, absolutely uncomplaining. In all postings, since he was a
combined hand, Telegraph Master as well as Post Master, and required to attend
to emergencies, free accommodation was provided by the government. So,
there were no expenses on house rent, water and electricity - a big boost to the
salary, to support a large family of seven!! And our education continued.
My oldest sister Bagyam got married in 1944, when I was ten. Appa was Post
Master in Pattikkarai Big Bazar Post Office at that time. A big office with over
50 staff members. Appa was popular with the business community in Big
Bazaar, including the Chettiars and Moothans. The former mainly dealt in
groceries, and the latter in gold and ornaments. In those days bereft of mobile
phones and computers and internet, the only fast communication mode was the
telegram, controlled by the Post Offices. The Bullion Exchange located in
Bombay of yore was busy like the present-day stock exchanges. The Moothans,
dealers in gold, had to send daily telegrams to the Exchange. The Big Bazaar
branch of the Post Office used to handle from 30 to 70 telegrams every day.
The good part of it was that the Telegraph Office was to accept Telegrams at
normal rates up to 5 pm only. Later than that, the option to accept the Telegrams

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was with the Telegraph/Post Master. The rules stipulated that such telegrams
accepted were to be charged One Rupee extra, the same going directly to the
Telegraph Master, officially permitted!! As I look back, it was as if the
Moothans decided to help Appa, out of public glare, as the majority of the
Bombay bound telegrams were brought in after 5.15 p.m. by their assistants!!!
These would being an extra 30 to 50 rupees for Appa almost every day through
the week! So much for goodwill and understanding.
As I completed my graduation in Chemistry, Appa encouraged me to study
Hindi, examinations for which were conducted by the Hindi Prachar Samiti,
located in Madras. Local centres in Palakkad conducted classes and
examinations. I passed the examination up to the third stage, the Rashtrabasha
examination, and got a fairly good grooming on the written part, due to my
background strength of Sanskrit as optional subject in graduate classes.
Chemistry proved to be my career, providing bread and butter while Hindi
helped me throughout my career and life, all in other parts of India, except the
South!! For a man who was born and grew up in Kerala, I wonder if my father
had foreseen this for me!
Image 2: Simple joys of life! Growing up in Ramanthapuram

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Chapter 1A: Two Anecdotes from Palakkad Days
Schooling with Chembakam, my sister
Chembakam is two years younger to me. We used to go to school together. She
was in Moyan Girls’ School and I was in the Municipal school. Her school used
to come first, about 15 minutes walk from our village Ramanathapuram and I
had to walk another 10 minutes to reach mine. I was perhaps 10 or 11 years old
at that time. School timings were 10 am to 1 pm and 2 pm to 4 pm. Our Amma’s
instructions were that both of us should carry our afternoon lunch of curd rice
and pickles, and meet at the lunch interval to eat it together. I used to object
even at the thought of carrying my lunch dabba, along with my books. Amma
was however adamant. Appa came into the picture. He admonished me but
came with a solution. He said, you take your food in a tiffin carrier, whatever
Amma gives. Near Moyan Girls School, there is Tarakkad village where my
friend Rama Iyer and his family live. In the morning, before reaching Chemba’s
school, go to Rama Iyer’s house and keep the tiffin box there. In the afternoon,
Vaithu can walk down to their house from his school, where Chemba also can,
join. I will ask Rama Iyer to provide plates if you need. Both of you eat together,
wash the carrier and keep it there. Vaithu will collect it on his way back from
school, come to Chemba’s school and both of you return back home in the
evening. These were airtight directions, meant to be just obeyed!
We started the exercise. I carried the tiffin carrier, me half way and Chemba
another half way. We used to deposit the carrier at Rama Iyer’s, and then
Chemba would proceed to her school, and I to mine. Slowly, I think, the male
ego took control of me and I asked Chemba to carry the carrier all the way, with
the promise that I carry the empty one on way back. For a few days, this was
ok. Chemba did not like this arrangement and the old system of half-way
carrying started. But ego is something that I took long time to shed. The first
half while carrying, I used to keep the carrier just on the road, and walk ahead,
insisting that she carry the same. She used to start crying but would walk back,
pick up the carrier and walk sobbing. But she never complained to Appa or
Amma. For them, the arrangement was just going on fine. Did it make me
happy? elated? I do not know. But the system continued for almost a year or
so. I feel very bad and sad, now, that I made her cry.
Rama Iyer was a clerk in the Taluk Office and used to go to office. Iyer’s wife
and her two daughters-in-law lived there. Since the father and sons were at work

5
during the day, we used to get to meet these three ladies only. Iyer’s wife must
have been around 50 years of age, while the daughters-in-law must have been
in their early twenties. Sweet, good-looking girls, but as I recall after all these
years, I always saw a look of sadness in their eyes, some yearning. They used
to smile, and bring us the plates for eating, sat near us and watched as both of
us ate and washed the vessels. One was Savitri and the other Janaki. What
affectionate children, they used to talk among themselves. They asked for our
names. Janaki said, Vaidyanathan looks exactly like my brother. Savitri used to
smile.
After about a week or so, one day, the mother-in-law (Iyer’s wife) had gone out
to a neighbour’s house. So it was only four of us, Savitri, Janaki, Chemba and
me were at home, during the lunch break time. Savitri and Janaki stood by our
side as we were ready to go back to school. Looking hesitatingly and with eyes
looking here and there as if with fear. Janaki blurted out: I will call you Vaithi;
she said. “Vaithi, we need some help from you. Here are Eight Annas. Please
get us post-cards from the post office”. I looked at her blankly. “We want to
write to our parents. After writing we will give it to you for putting in the letter
box. Will you help us?” But, she continued, mami, (meaning Mother-in-law,
Iyer’s wife) should not know anything about this. She will be very angry. We
are afraid of her. Chemba and I looked at each other. A silent understanding. I
took the money. My first ever visit to a post office for work. I used to visit
Appa’s office, but not on work. But I knew where stamps and postcards were
sold. I bought the postcards, kept them between the school books, and gave
them to Janaki the next day, making sure that Mami was nowhere near. A secret
deal was struck. We get the postcards, and put them in the letterbox when they
wrote the letters and gave it back to us. No questions, no answers. Our job done.
A bright smile from Savitri and Janaki indicating, THANK YOU. They used to
ask us to get the cards once every month or so. This went on for about two or
three months.
One afternoon, the storm blew without notice. We were just getting ready to go
back to school after taking our food, and Savitri and Janaki were nowhere to be
seen. Mami suddenly emerged with a stick in her hand, eyes blazing. “Enkitta
Poyie chollathengo. Adippeain. Appa kitta cholluven. Nee thane, intha
pongalukku card vaangi konduvanthai?? Ippochollu” (Don’t tell me a lie. I will
beat you. I will tell your father. You brought the postcards for these girls,
meaning Savitri and Janaki. Tell me just now.) Both of us were scared. We just
ran out and to school. The tiffin box was left in Iyer’s place. We came home in

6
the evening and related the whole episode to Appa and Amma. Appa was not
angry but asked us why we did it? I said that the Akkas (sisters) were looking
sad, and I wanted to help them. Amma intervened saying that possibly the
Mami did not want the daughters-in-law to write to their parents. The girls must
have wanted the postcards to write to them and asked for Vaithu’s help. It must
have sounded logical for Appa. Our tiffin breaks at Tarakkad Iyer’s house
stopped. We each carried our own tiffin box, and had it with friends in our
schools only. We continued to go together to the school and back. We did not
meet anyone in Iyer’s family, including Savitri and Janaki. At this point of time,
after so many years, it is only dark, silent memories. Seeing the trend in the
present-day TV shows, we escaped the eye of the storm in a typical Saas-Bahu
story; and in villages, it could end in violence. I only remember how we used
to hide postcards from the post office before giving it to them and how their
written letters were taken out safely to be posted in the letterbox. Secret
operations! We felt right in helping Savitri and Janaki, and Chemba was my
unwitting, innocent collaborator!

7
Pogonotomy
The Oxford Dictionary says, Pogonotomy, means “Shaving or styling the
beard”. I like the word so much that I extend it to the operation of Hair
cutting/Styling too. Maybe a bit unorthodox, but it is there. Tonsorial for
Tonsure would perhaps have been more apt terms, but I prefer
POGONOTOMY.
In 1940/1950, from our village Ramanathapuram in Palakkad, the hair cutting
saloons were located in Sultanpet or Gandhi Bazaar, a good distance of 3 miles
(4.8 km)- far away for a walk, and a haircut would cost Rs.2/-. The Village
Barber, Chinnapayyan, presented the comparative advantage of coming home,
and doing the haircutting/styling for just Four Annas! Ofcourse this meant we
could not enjoy the revolving chairs of the Saloons, or the paraphernalia of
covering with an apron or any fancy gadgets for the hair-cuts. Chinnapayyan
would come simply armed with scissors, a comb and a bowl of water.
Chinnapayyan (meaning “young boy” in Tamil) was around forty years old, but
was the youngest son of his Father and hence this fond name. As I look back I
am surprised that at my age of six or seven I used to call him Chinnapayya, to
tell him to come home the next morning around 7 am, to attend to my Father
and me to do the hair-cutting.
Usually, I was the first one to be attended to. He used to call me “Vaithu
Aiyyare”, with some respect thrown in for our Brahmin family. We children
never realised these nuances then. Appa used to tell him to give me a close
crop, make the hairs as short as possible. I was happy as some of my friends in
the village used to have a completely well-shaven head with a small tuft at the
back, as befits a young Brahmin boy!! Somehow, I did not take to it and Appa
was a big sport and support in this. I could comb my hair in style, with a side
parting of hair on the scalp, as some boys in the school used to do. Small, but
sustaining delights.
The seating for the tonsorial operation was a small wooden plank, slightly raised
from the floor, with wooden supports, which we used to call “Palagai”.
Chinnpayyan would sit in front of me on his haunches, with my head almost
resting on his knees. I had to put my head on his knees and the session would
start. Chinnapayyan, used to look this side and that, to make sure that Appa was
nowhere near, and start the juicy village gossips, as the comb surveyed the scalp
and the scissors started cutting the hairs. How Parameswara Iyer and his wife
used to quarrel over purchases and the costs, the wife being more liberal would
like to spend, and Iyer would get annoyed. How the Maami living in the house

8
just opposite ours, was not fairly treated by her mother in law, and how the
mother and son used to quarrel over this. Nothing of interest to me, but he would
go on. I specifically remember one instance, where my uncut hairs literally
stood up straight!! This was when he told me that Gouri, daughter of a teacher,
was kissed by Mani, in the precincts of the Siva temple in the village. As I look
back, I wonder how clandestine it was, when Chinnapayyan could gossip about
it. He followed up by cautioning me, “Vaithu Aiyyare, Appakitte chollathengo”!
(“Don’t tell Father”).
I kept quiet, but was shaken by the mayhem in the village the next day!! We
were familiar with Gouri’s and Mani’s families. Appa was generally respected
and nobody used to stand up against him. Gouri’s Father, a Teacher, was furious
and was in tears. He came to Appa with his Brother and asked what he should
do. Gouri was about 15 years old while Mani would have been around 18 or so,
I guessed. As rumours got around, two factions grew up in the village, as it
happens in such matters even today, one, accusing Gouri in vile and
uncharitable terms, and another Mani, calling him a vagabond, about which the
accusers said they were aware of, since long. Appa asked the teacher,
Veerakutti, if I call both the children here together and question them, have you
any objection? Although confused, he said, he has no objection. Appa called
Mani’s mother, who promptly told him “I have already talked to him and
slapped him also”. Mani’s father was not alive.
Appa, Mani’s Mother, and Gouri’s Father, met in our house along with both
Mani and Gouri. Appa only said, “Gouri and Mani, you are not young babies,
anymore. If something like this has happened, it is a shame for your families.
Tell me openly what happened exactly.” Mani opened up: “Maama, I go the
Siva temple everyday after bathing in the village tank. That day Gouri also was
there, plucking flowers from the Chembaruthi tree. The flowers were at a little
height, and she was jumping to catch hold of two flowers with a small twig. She
could not, and fell down. Her elbow was bruised by the fall, and as she was
trying to get up, she hurt her fingers, and there was blood. I took her hands, and
blew hard on her bruised finger. I do not know how there is a rumour that I
kissed her. You may ask Gouri. She is here only.”
Silence. Gouri simply stood, weeping. Appa, asked her, “Is this what happened,
Gouri ?” Sobbing, she said, “Yes, Maama, this is what happened”, and showed
her bandaged finger, and the elbow and ankle where she was hurt by her fall.
Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.

9
There was no sign of Chinnapayyan for the next few days. Appa could guess it
though. Later, another day when he came for the usual Pogonotomy session,
Appa asked him “Ennada, innaiki enna, pudubootham pannaporai?” (What
new nuisance you are bringing up today?) Chinnapayyan was silent, but I could
see him looking accusingly at me. But I had not told Appa. How do I share such
juicy stories with him!! I do not know with how many Vaithus like me in the
village Chinnapayyan had shared this gossip with! The fact was that the whole
village was agog, pointing fingers at him only! I knew I would be missing all
the luscious village gossips from him henceforth, colourfully layered! My
loss!!
That incident started a fixation for me on shaving and haircutting, which I
extended to hair-dying and hairstyling, till I lost all my hair and stand bald
today. But memories stick. So much for Pogonotomy. I like the word. Laughter
is the Best Medicine!

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Chapter 2: Aatma Nirbhar!! Swadeshi!!
After my graduation, I spent a short period with my brother Ambi where he was
working, first in Delhi and then in Calcutta. I had also started looking at
advertisements and applied for jobs. One such was for the post of a Laboratory
Chemist in a vanaspati factory in Maharashtra. A Box Number advertisement.
I had no knowledge of the advertiser, location of the factory or any other details.
After suspense and interminable wait for almost a month, I got a letter from
Berar Swadeshi Vanaspati, located in Shegaon, Maharashtra. It was an
Appointment Letter, offering me the post of Laboratory Chemist on a monthly
salary of Rs.110/- with free furnished bachelor accommodation. There was no
interview! Later after joining, I found that the Manager, one Mr.Lalvani was
impressed by my application, where I had mentioned that I got the First Prize
for the Best Paper presented in the College Chemical Society, and had overruled
an interview. I still happen to preserve this letter!
Overjoyed, I conveyed the news to my brother Ambi and Appa. Appa was
happy and asked me to accept the job, while Ambi started the exercise to locate
the place Shegaon in Maharashtra!! We asked friends. One day, as I was
returning home from my brother’s office in Waterloo Street, I spied the Tourism
office in Esplanade, and on the spur of the moment gathered courage and
entered the office. The man in charge was kind and smiling, took out a big book,
which looked like a dictionary, and searched for Shegaon. He found it, on the
Calcutta Bombay rail line, off Nagpur, towards Bombay. The Gajanan Maharaj
Temple located there was a tourist attraction. Armed with this knowledge, we
located the place in the Railway Time Table: Howrah Bombay Mail departed
from Howrah around 8 pm and reached Shegaon after a 27-hour run from
Howrah via Nagpur. There was tremendous excitement in all of this, and my
career was launched. My brother saw me off at the station. I was twenty years
old, in December 1954, entering as it were, a new life and a New Year, away
from known people and known surroundings, going to a new style of living,
with different language and culture.
The train reached Shegaon late in the night, around 11 pm. I got down on the
platform with my small tin box of clothes and a holdall (a must- have in those
days for train travel). There were small oil lamps aloft steel poles, and a lone
porter. He looked at me and asked me something, possibly in Marathi. It was
not Hindi, I could make out. I blurted, “Berar Swadeshi Vanaspati jaana hai”.

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He gave me a blank look and walked on. I walked behind him, with my tin box
and holdall. He stood near an open room, with a board outside, saying
“Assistant Station Master” (ASM). I looked in, but there was no one there. After
a few moments, the ASM entered holding the Green Flag after flagging off the
train, from which I had got down just now, on to Bombay. He looked at me with
a questioning look. I told him I have to go to “Berar Swadeshi Vanaspati”. He
looked confused. In Hindi and faltering English, he said, “There is no place like
that here. You have come to a wrong place.” On an impulse I opened my box
and showed him the letter of appointment. He still wore a blank look, and then
chose to smile. He might have been in his thirties. “There are no trains now at
night” he said. “You can sleep in Waiting Room; in the morning the Station
Master will come and we will see. The next train is at 9am in the morning!!!”.
I went to the waiting room, nervous at this start and practically got no sleep.
Early morning at around 5 am the next day, I came out of the Waiting Room on
to the platform and looked around. Just outside the station almost bang opposite
was a big horizontal board, almost 10 to 15 feet long, and 2 to 3 feet wide, with
blue background and white protruding letters “BERAR SWADESHI
VANASPATI”. Did my heart miss a beat? I went to the Assistant Station
Master’s room. He was just getting up, and I excitedly told him that the factory
is just outside the station. He did not look surprised or shocked. “Oh, that! That
is a Dalda karkhana.1
You were asking for some other name. We all know it is
there! You should have said Dalda Karkhana.” And thus, I had my first brush
with colloquial Hindi in a Marathi background.
By around 6 am, armed with my box and holdall, not too heavy, I climbed up
the ladder of the overbridge and came down to the general waiting room, filled
with many people in different dresses, and men mostly in dhoti and turban. The
dhotis were not the Kerala type of wrap arounds, more like the soman or
panchakaccham2
of longer length and width. Taking in all the sights, I looked
at the tea shop in the room, with a big board announcing “Theerath Ram
Sharma” - Railway Caterer. A genial white-haired person with a greying
moustache stood at the counter. I liked him immediately, for no known reasons.
He smiled and called me “Bhai Saheb! naya aaye hain kya?” – (Are you new
here?). “Dalda karkhana”, I intoned. He asked “Naam?” and got no answer
1 factory
2 Dhoti generally worn on festive occasions or during rituals

12
from me!! “Name?”, someone nearby said. A young man, maybe of my age.
“Yeh mera beta hai” (this is my son), said Theerath Ram Sharma, the genial
moustached man. “Aaapka Naam?” (your name?) he repeated. “Vaidyanathan”
I said. “Oh. Madrassi hain kya? Aaiyey, bahut khushi hui aap se milke” (Oh,
you are a Madrasi? Please come – am very happy to meet you). And so, I entered
Shegaon, into a new life, amidst new surroundings, new faces, new language
and a store of raw courage, maybe inherited from my father. Hot jalebis,
kachoris and good cup of tea – “kadak meethi (strong and sweet)” he said. I
offered him money. “Nahi, aap hamare mehmaan hai. Aaj paisa nahin lenge.
Mera beta aapko factory chod dega!!’ (No, you are our guest; I shall not take
money today; my son will take you to the factory) Freebies on entry!! Truth be
told, I understood the words only much later, as at that moment my thoughts
were only on the Dalda Karkhana!!) The time by now around 7.30am or so.
The watchman at the gate of the factory gave me a not too unfriendly look. I
told him I have to see the Manager. He smiled and replied. I understood what
he told me. “It is too early for the Manager. I will take you to the quarters where
the officers live”. It was about a 10-minute walk. The watchman accompanied
me, took the box and holdall and presented me at the house of the Chief
Chemist, K.L.Khabhya. My immediate superior I thought, for a Laboratory
Chemist! It was not to be like that. I was way down in the hierarchy, with a
Deputy Chief Chemist, Shift Chemists and Laboratory-In-charge, under whom
I was to start my new life. Khabhya smiled and welcomed me. His wife peeped
out and two children came out and looked at me curiously. Everything seemed
to be organised. “I will send you to the quarters allotted to you. Come to the
factory at 10 am”, he said, and asked the watchman to take me to my new abode.
A wooden door, leading to a corridor about 5 feet long and 8 feet wide, took me
to an open verandah and on to the room, bachelor accommodation. Two wooden
cots with coir meshing, a chair, a small table and a fresh clay jar and a clay
tumbler greeted me. My new home. The watchman took me outside to the
corridor to show me the “sandaas” and the “nahaane ka ghar”. It took some
time to digest the language and understand that he was showing me the latrine
and bathing place. I nodded.
Going to the factory at 10 am, the first one to greet me was Lalaji, the Time
Keeper, his office was just inside the gate. He was maybe in his fifties. I liked
him on the first look. On to the laboratory with the familiar long work table, the
test-tubes, the Soxhelet apparatus, the Kipp’s apparatus and electric heater,
Bunsen Burners, and a new instrument Tintometer, used to measure the colour

13
of Vegetable Oils, used in Vanaspati manufacture. It took me back to my
college laboratory surroundings. After about 10 minutes, a tall young man,
maybe around 25 years old, walked in with a big smile. “So, you have come.
Welcome. I am the Laboratory in charge. My name is Nemade”!! No more
Subramaniams or Krishnamoorthys or Ramanathans for me as friends!!
Another person came in, “Kharkani”, Nemade introduced him. “He is a Shift
Chemist”. Then Khabhya entered and he was greeted with respect by all in the
Laboratory. “Nemade”, he said, “Vaidyanathan babu is our new Chemist. Show
him all the jobs to be done regularly and properly”. All in Hindi, I followed the
tone of the conversation. More people entered, some with oil samples in bottles
and beakers, someone asking for the melting point of the sample, etc. I felt I
could manage without much difficulty!!
Time went on and at about 1 pm, Nemade said, “let us go for lunch. It is in the
complex where you are staying”. The four of us went to a fairly big room. On
one side there was a 10 feet wide platform, and firewood burning. The platform
was about 1 foot high. Surrounding the platform, there were 8 or 10 steel plates,
steel glasses and small steel cups (called katoris). Nobody divined that all these
were new to me. “Maharaj”, Nemade addressed the cook, sitting near the
fireplace. “Aaj kya banaya?” (What have you made today?) “Roti, Daal aur
Aaloo sabji” (Roti, lentils and potato curry), the person replied. We sat down.
Dal was put in the Katoris, and aaloo on the plate and down came one Roti hot,
fresh from the oven, on the plate!! “ghee laga diya,” (have applied clarified
butter) the Maharaj said and “dal me chonk bhi diya hai” (have garnished the
lentils with fried spices also). Ramanathapuram Vaidyanathan had the first
taste of wheat rotis and chonk wala dal!! As memories flood back after all these
years, I feel happy, I did not fare too badly. More new faces, more new names.
Matta, Talesara, Doshi, Joglekar, Karandikar, Khirwadkar, etc!! I liked Jadhav,
the wild guffawing Central Excise Inspector. It was a Maharashtrian/ Marwari
milieu. One regret, there was no curd or buttermilk. At the end of the meal,
freshly roasted papad flew over from the “Maharaj” on to our plates. Lunch was
over.
Afternoon, Nemade took me around the factory, a three storied setup. Steel
ladders and steps with side rails, and a hissing sound all around and fairly hot
ambience. It took me two days to understand that it is caused by steam generated
by coal fired boilers, used for heating the oils for processing.
At a meeting with the workers in the “plant”, as it was called, something
clicked. I can manage these people, something told me, and I was “IN”. A career

14
which I had never dreamt of, went on to span over forty years, 1955 to 1996!!
Climbing slowly and steadily up the ladder, Laboratory Chemist to Shift
Chemist to Deputy Chief Chemist to Chief Chemist and Works Manager and
finally Technical Director! and to cap it all, an Independent Director for over
20 years in the same company. Over the years, my work was recognised by
peers, scientists and technologists, in National and International Technical
Associations, visits to foreign countries, attending Technical Conferences.
Moving shoulder to shoulder with well-known technologists, exchanging notes
intelligently, absorbing new developments in Oil Technology and carving a
place of respect, known for integrity in technology and added to that, worker
management. In a sense the firm foundations of my career started slowly,
silently and firmly in Shegaon.

15
Chapter 3: Hindi Vocabulary and Friends
The changeover from a South Indian setting to a place in Central India, with
different languages and culture had its own attractions and pitfalls. My
knowledge of hindi was rudimentary, in pronunciation and grammar. It created
all round laughter, but till today, I do not remember anyone teasing me on this
or ridiculing me. I took everything in my stride with a smile or a laugh!! And
that was the end of it. The funniest I still remember was the difference between
“TOOT (break) gaya” and “PHAT gaya”, when a TEAR was observed in my
shirt sleeve and I proffered the first, “TOOT gaya”!! There was loud laughter
all around and a new young face in the group, chirped in, “Bhai Saab, you call
the TEAR in a cloth “PHAT gaya”, not “TOOT gaya”. “laaiye, main theek kar
deta hoon”, he said as he extended his hand and took the shirt. A new nascent
friendship developed.
His name was Pratap Doshi, who had come to visit his cousin Khabhya, my
boss here in Shegaon. His father, Doshi was a shift chemist in another Vanaspati
factory located in nearby Pachora, about three hours by train towards Bombay.
Khabhya’s elder brother, another Khabhya, was also a Shift Chemist there.
Pratap, maybe around my age, 21 or so, had come with the three daughters of
the Senior Khabhya - Susheela, Lalli and Pushpa. Youngsters, and we all took
to a mutual liking. On Pratap’s prompting, they asked me what to call an elder
brother. I said, in the South, elder brother is called “ANNA”. Here we call
brother as Bhaiya, chirped in the girls and from then onwards I became “ANNA
BHAIYA” for almost all the staff and children living in the Factory Quarters.
We became good friends, and as long as he was in Shegaon, he used to come
and sit with me, and we spent time chatting in Hindi.
After about six months or so, he also joined the Shegaon Factory as a
Laboratory Chemist, and I had the opportunity to train him. In between, some
young boys chose to call me by the name KAKAJI, meaning father’s younger
brother. How this name came and stuck I am yet to comprehend. By that time,
I was promoted as Shift Chemist in the factory. Was it due to my technical
capability or man management? During the shifts I had about 30/35 workmen
working under me as their Boss for 8 hours!! After a month or so, some
workmen approached the Manager and Khabhya to move them to my shift!!
Some were a bit unruly, “badmaash hain (they are mischievous)” Khabhya

16
cautioned me, but I never refused anyone and there was overall approbation that
the Madrassi Babu is a good chemist.
I was naturally happy and used to write to Appa in Palakkad with my monthly
money order of Rs.40/-, my contribution to the family. He was very happy at
my progress, and looked forward to my letters, Amma told me during my first
visit to the village on my annual leave of 21 days. Appa related his experiences
with different post offices and personnel, during his transfers, and urged me to
follow some principles:
1. Do not be afraid of labour and workmen. They are also human beings like
you and me.
2. Talk to them. Communicate. Try to understand their problems.
3. Help them out as much as possible
4. Even if unpleasant things happen, try not to be vindictive or opinionated
beyond a certain limit.
5. Each human being has his own problems. Wherever you are help them if
you can, but try not to harm them.
6. Always be compassionate.
Firm foundations of HR Management, that stood by me through my tenure in
Akola, Belghoria, Davangere, Shikaripur and Calcutta; and in spite of niggling
irritations, added “BADA SAHEB” to the titles “Anna Bhaiya” and “Kakaji”
of Shegaon. BADA SAHEB, I earned in CALCUTTA and RASOI- from the
militant unionised workmen of the 70s and 80s in West Bengal.
The memory of my visit with the Khabhya family and Pratap, to Gajanan Baba
Temple, and SreeKshetra Nagjari, a long winding Cave Temple dedicated to
snakes, stands out from my Shegaon stay.

17
Chapter 4: Climbing up the ladder
About a year and a half of pleasant experience of job, friendship, and improving
my Hindi vocabulary, I was popular. I felt I should go up the career ladder, earn
more money. I heard about openings in another big vanaspati unit owned by the
Birlas - Berar Oil Industries, located in Akola, about 50 km from Shegaon. I
made the bold move of sending a letter to them and was called for an interview
by the Production Manager B.S.K.Shastry. A handsome, cherubic faced and
soft-spoken man, he asked me some questions on laboratory and chemicals, and
offered me the post of Laboratory Chemist. The next interview was by
B.M.Dalmia, who I later understood was the de facto Emperor in the factory,
being in direct contact with the Senior Birlas. Since Shastry had recommended,
I got appointed without much ado, on a monthly salary of Rs.170/-, a jump from
Rs. 110/- at Shegaon. Bachelor accommodation in Ananda Niwas, walking
distance from the factory. My immediate friendship was with Somany, the Store
Keeper, Dhaniwal, a Junior Accountant and Mohata, of the Time Office.
Mohata was also my roommate.
Technically, I got the approval of the Production Manager Shastry and his
Deputy B.P.Agarwal. The Shift Chemists were Gavai, Rajwade and Mardikar.
The Laboratory in charge was Balasubramanian, a tough no nonsense guy, and
a good Chemist. He was a family man. He took a liking for me and I got trained
in the intricacies of maintaining stocks and accounts properly, just like
Chartered Accountants balancing their books (lessons which stood me in good
stead, impressing the Factory owners in Davangere and later in Calcutta, where
I was controlling the entire factory operations), apart from technical work,
testing and analysis. I was put in charge of different departments in the factory
and was the choice to occupy Laboratory in-charge seat whenever
Balasubramanian used to go to Madras on leave. Friendships grew, popularity
grew. There were some South Indian friends too, working in the railways, post
office, etc., in Akola. Our talking in Malayalam or Tamil was a lot of fun to
Somany and Dhaniwal, the languages being very strange to them, and they
started calling me “DO-DO”, in jest. As was my usual habit, I accepted it
without demur.
The highlights of my stay in Akola, I remember vividly. The Deputy, Agarwal
had come to the plant with six highly skilled and experienced operators.
Gajadhar Mahabir, Sharma, and four more. I mention the names here along with

18
Agarwal, because I faced a very unpleasant and unwanted brush with all of them
later in my career in Davangere, an incident which I had never dreamt of. The
Chemist in charge of the soap manufacturing section, was C.R.S. Iyer, was an
experienced Soap Technologist. He taught me the rudiments of soap
manufacture. His family was large with children of my age group and being
from Kerala, a mutual affection and friendship developed. I started playing
Table Tennis and Carrom, and was fond of reading and seeing movies with
friends.
Five years just flew by. In between visits to Palghat, marriage of my younger
sister Chemba, was on the cards. I was deputed by Appa to go to Bombay to
see Seshadri, Chemba’s husband to be, Akola being nearer to Bombay than
Calcutta where my older brother Ambi was located. Akola to Bombay by train,
on to Kurla where Seshadri was staying, approval and the marriage was fixed,
much to the relief of my father.
Image 3: With my friends in Akola, 1961

19
Chapter 4A: Saga of Eggs!!
Verghese from Kerala was an overseer in a panchayat near Akola. We met in
the Kerala restaurant and became friends. He was located in a rural setting, and
commanded respect from local farmers and agriculture owners. One day he
asked me whether I would like to have chicken and eggs which he could get
freely from his location. I said NO to Chicken, but YES to Eggs, little realising,
that he will land up with eggs in Anand Niwas, where I was accommodated, a
strictly Vegetarian Marwari bachelor quarters. Verghese came one Sunday
morning with about 35/ 40 eggs. I was sitting with Somany and Dhaniwal, both
Marwari boys. We looked at each other. I sensed that they were not against
eggs, but just like me were afraid of the Management and Dalmia the de facto
Emperor! That week, incidentally, Dalmia’s daughter was getting married on
Thursday; Somany said, the mess will be closed, as everyone including the
Maharaj will be busy at the wedding. Anand Niwas residents will be away at
the wedding or at the factory.
So, Thursday was fixed when we could enjoy the eggs! The fear was that if we
were to be caught with the eggs, it would be summary dismissal from service,
as being a strict vegetarian, Dalmia would not tolerate it and the Birlas did not
approve breaking of rules. The eggs were safely kept, with Mohata and one or
two more let into the secret, and Thursday was the celebration day. A small
kerosene stove was procured by Dhaniwal and Mohata got hold of a tawa (pan)
and ladle and some plates from the mess stores.
I was a perfect novice with regard to doing anything with eggs. But Somany,
Dhaniwal and Mohata appeared familiar. “Don’t worry ‘Do–Do’” I was
assured, “nobody will know”. The room door was firmly closed, double
checking nobody was there in Anand Niwas, while the wedding shehnai and
festivities were on in Dalmia’s Bungalow, barely a quarter of a mile away. The
stove was lit. Onions were cut and ready, Somany got some vanaspati from the
kitchen.
Preparations went on smoothly, the time around 12 noon, the smell of egg
omelette wafted around the room, with seven pairs of eyes looking at the stove
and smelling, as Verghese took out the omelettes. We had procured tomato
sauce also and were ready to enjoy the fare when there was an ominous knock
on the door!! Knowing it to be my room, I heard someone shouting “Arrey ‘Do-
Do’ kya ho raha hai, kya pakate ho? bahut khushboo aa raha hai” (Hi Do-Do,

20
what is happening, what are you cooking? a pleasant odour is coming). My
Hindi had considerably improved and I could recognise two of the voices, both
Maharashtrians. My heart did miss a beat. I nodded at Somany and Dhaniwal
and made bold to open the door! There stood four of my friends, all laughing
and in a rollicking mood. “Arre, hamein bhi khilao, chupa rustam ho tum”!!
(Hi, treat us also, you are a dark horse). All round laughter, more work for
Verghese, more omelettes, there being no shortage of eggs!! And all of us
heaved a big sigh of relief. Only requesting the latecomers not to publicise the
incident. “Arre, hum paagal hain kya” (hi, are we mad), they said in unison.
The egg saga was over. Our jobs were safe.
Each day brought new experiences. New learning and new understanding of
techniques, processing and above all people management, both on the labour
front as well as my colleagues. I was accepted as an equal and a capable
Chemist. Five valuable years flew by, but the monthly salary was only increased
to Rs.230 from the starting Rs.170!! In the 1950s and ‘60s there was a
mushrooming of vanaspati manufacturing units all over India and demand for
good Chemists. Searching for a new job, I started applying again and landed
on a Calcutta advertisement for the post of Shift Chemist.

21
Chapter 5: New pastures and a brand-new journey
Meanwhile activities on the domestic front, my older brother Ambi’s marriage
was held, after Chemba’s. He was settled in Calcutta and had a very wide circle
of friends. Appa started searching for a bride for me, Ambi came with the
proposal for the daughter of his friend V.A.P. Aiyar, who was a partner of AVM
Film Distributors, distributor of southern films, located in Calcutta. After
preliminary discussions and astrological confirmations, Appa and Ambi
decided I should see the girl and agree to the alliance. Mutual meetings and
without much ado, the alliance was settled. I would be marrying Jayalakshmi,
daughter of V.A.P Aiyar of Calcutta. I instinctively liked Jaya and had a happy
feeling at having her as my partner in life.
The year was around early 1960. I was hesitant because of my low salary at
Akola and expected change to Calcutta. As if ordained by destiny, I got an
appointment letter from Vegetable Products Ltd. Belghoria, Calcutta owned by
a Marwari Group called Tantias. Funnily, there was no interview, for the simple
reason, the General Manager and Chief Chemist of the Factory Aryendra Singh,
was earlier in Pachora and had been following my career in Shegaon and Akola.
Obviously satisfied, he had sent the appointment letter on a monthly salary of
Rs.350/- with free furnished family accommodation, just what was needed for
one who was about to get married.
In those days, there was a formality of the groom’s family go to the bride’s
house to see and assess the bride. We went to 136B Rashbehari Avenue, where
my father-in-law V.A.P.Aiyar was living. As we entered, music welcomed us.
D K Pattammal’s Shyamala Dandakam was playing on the gramophone. Appa,
Amma, Ambi, Chembakam were all there. I saw Jaya for the first time. She
sang a song- “Mere janam maran ke saathi”, which I loved. Even today Jaya
is never tired of relating how I was sitting there with bowed head, while she
was looking at me. The fact is I liked her. She looked beautiful and serene. The
marriage was agreed upon, and the date fixed was 17th
January 1962.
I shifted from Akola to Belghoria and started working from around April 1961
or so. I was provided a two roomed flat with kitchen, bath, etc., on the ground
floor. Ambi being familiar with Calcutta and living there in a nice flat with his
wife, approved the accommodation happily. The news was conveyed to
Appa/Amma and Aiyar family, and happiness all around. I was feeling jittery,
now that I was to have a family of my own. I confided in Ambi and he

22
encouraged me saying how Bagyam, Chemba and he himself have settled into
family life.
I got a happy surprise one morning when a packet containing a lovely hand
knitted grey sweater, landed in Belghoria, made by Jaya, my future life partner.
I should have been jumping with joy but was very much a rustic boy, not very
familiar with girls. I kept silent and did not even acknowledge the sweater, a
fact which Jaya chooses to remind me of even today, after nearly 60 years. All
the children are aware of the incident and laugh at it, but I definitely accept my
inadequacy and immaturity at that time. A grand wedding, VIP’s galore,
including film personalities, it was like a long running happy dream. Satyajit
Ray, A.V.M.Chettiar, apart from film actors and actresses. Jaya looked
dazzling, radiant, full of smiles.
Image 4: Satyajit Ray. V.A.P.Aiyar, Jaya and me. A memorable moment at our
wedding

23
Image 5: A radiant Jaya and a nervous me, January 17, 1962
Settled in Belghoria with my wife Jaya, a new life started. We had a fulltime
servant boy -Gulab, who helped Jaya in the kitchen and cleaning the house etc.
Life started literally on a bed of roses. With beautiful furniture sent by Jaya’s
father, wooden cots with dunlopillo mattress, custom made wardrobe,
refrigerator, not to speak of vessels and other family needs. The factory people
were happy. The owner Tantia called us to his residence and gave one gold
sovereign as a gift to Jaya. Time flew. In October 1962, our first daughter was
born. Appa chose to name her Shantha. Jaya and myself were very happy, not
to speak of Appa/Amma and Jaya’s family.

24
The highlights of life here, was free electricity and free coal for cooking, which
supplemented my salary. Appa and Amma came and stayed with us for some
time. Amma could get a feel of her new daughter-in-law. Appa was still in
service.
The factory was a much smaller than the one in Akola, with only vanaspati
manufacture, but I had a higher salary and the accommodation. Colleagues and
workmen were good. I had been cautioned by Somany and Dhaniwal about the
militant tendencies of Bengali workers and the powerful Trade Unions of
Bengal. The Shift Chemists worked on 8-hour shifts - 4 am to 12 noon, 12 noon
to 8 pm and 8 pm to 4 am.
The Chemists were all in the same building where we were staying. After the
night shift, I used to come at 4 am, talk to the next Chemist living in an adjacent
flat, handing over charge of the shift. Jaya used to get up and wait for my arrival
from duty. Happy Days.
Image 6: The young couple

25
Jaya, Shantha and myself, were having a wonderful time. In April 1965, our
second daughter Bhavani was born. A sibling for our Shantha. Jaya was singing
“Namaste Bhavani” at the time of delivery and the baby girl was named
Bhavani.
Image 7: Shantha
and Bhavani
The year 1965, another Vanaspati Factory in Calcutta called RASOI was
looking for Chemists. The Chief Chemist was one Singhal, and the owner was
Mody. With my almost ten-year experience in the industry, I was looking for
the next higher post for a Shift Chemist, Deputy Chief Chemist. With this in
mind I attended the interview. Mody, younger to me, at that time he must have
been of 26 years or so, liked me and wanted his Chief Chemist Singhal’s
approval. Singhal said he cannot accept me as Deputy Chief Chemist and I can
be taken as a Shift Chemist. Mody had just purchased the Rasoi Factory in New
Alipore in 1964 and was fully dependent on the Chief Chemist for his product,
and could not possibly overrule Singhal’s objection. But something clicked
between Mody and me during our meeting when I told him that I cannot accept
the post of a Shift Chemist and that I am happy with my present post of Shift
Chemist in Belghoria. I was looking for a higher post. Our bond grew stronger,
as future incidents in my career unfolded.
I had very sincere workmen in my shifts and there was tremendous
understanding. Especially, during night shifts, out of 8 hours, I had almost 2
hours to myself, free from factory work. Ambi helped me here with the duty of

26
reviewing English story books and novels, for a Calcutta based paper,
Hindustan Standard. The reviews got printed in their Sunday Editions with my
initials, RSV as the reviewer. I used to get the books to keep and was paid Rs.5/-
per review published!! For the workmen, seeing me reading the books in the
night shift and showing them the paper with my name, was something they
could not comprehend and I was almost a HERO to them.
Labour and Union troubles were raging in West Bengal at that time. Our factory
was not immune to it . Two of our staff members, Kundu the Store keeper and
Roy one of the Chemists, were assaulted and injured. I felt it was time to look
for other jobs, preferably outside West Bengal.
The year was 1966. Seeing an advertisement with Box Number for the post of
Chief Chemist and Works Manager for a Vanaspati Factory near Bangalore, I
made bold and asked my General Manager Aryendra Singh and Chief Engineer
P.K. Das, both very senior people, for their advice and how they rated my
chances. I was 32 years old. Both gave me the green signal and Singh assured
all support whenever needed. I applied for the job. In about three weeks, a letter
came from Ravi Vegetable Oil Industries, Davangere, Mysore State, calling me
to attend an interview at Bangalore Woodlands Hotel.
I reached the Woodlands Hotel at Bangalore, where a room was booked for me
by the company. Interviewed by the owner, Sreenivasamurthy and one B.P.
Shetty. I came to know later that Shetty was Managing Director of Davangere
Cotton Mills and a cousin of Sreenivasamurthy. Interview over, I was asked to
wait. Shetty came after some time and said, “Sowcar is satisfied with meeting
you. We can offer you the Post of Chief Chemist and Works Manager. What do
you expect as salary?” I was not ready with an answer, as I had not thought of
such fast developments. I will be happy if I can get Rs.1,000/- per month with
a house, I said. He smiled and said, “We will discuss and send you the
Appointment Letter. Be ready to join within one month.” He paused and said,
“Mr. Vaidyanathan, Welcome to Davangere.” Back to Calcutta and Belghoria,
to happiness domestically as well as professionally!!
The Appointment letter came with the offer of salary Rs. 900/- per month and
free furnished bungalow. All round happiness in Calcutta, especially my father-
in-law, who was telling his friends that his son-in-law was going to join a new
job with a four figure salary!!! Appa and Amma in Palakkad were super happy.
Appa had taken voluntary retirement. He was not happy at his transfers and not
being promoted.

27
Chapter 6: Southbound and the twists and turns of
life
Ravi Vegetable Oil Industries, was established during the mushrooming period
of new Vanaspati units, and may have been about 10/12 years old when I joined
in 1967. Among the earliest people heading the factory was P.P. Sharma, who
went on to join DE Smet India as their MD. Next was N.Ramachandran, who
went on to join the Cottonseed plant manufacturers, Carver’s India in Bombay.
I was familiar with them during my Akola stay and had good rapport.
B.P.Agarwal who followed Ramachandran was my senior in Akola, and, came
with six operatives of his own, promising to take Ravi to greater heights. Those
days, when new factories were literally mushrooming, the Managers/ Chief
Chemists always moved around with their close associates. It gave them a lot
of bargaining power and clout with the new managements. I knew them from
Akola days when B.P.Agarwal was Deputy Manager there.
Reaching Davangere in April ‘67 or so, I stayed in the guest house. I was taken
to the factory by C.V. Suryanarayana Rao, the Office Manager. I learnt from
him that Agarwal and his team were still around and would be leaving
Davangere only in the next few days. This was a shock for me. I had to face
them sooner or later!! Akola memories flooded. Reaching the factory, RAVI,
an imposing majestic frontage welcomed me. The first person introduced to me
was D R Anantharam, as Senior Chemist, a nice personable guy, possibly
should have been the Chief Chemist with his experience, but was denied due to
Agarwal and Co., who did not encourage local talent, as I came to know by and
by.
I was taken round the factory which had a Vanaspati Plant, Oil Mill, Cottonseed
Plant, Solvent Extraction Plant, Tin Container plant, and a Soap manufacturing
plant. I was to be in-charge of the whole unit!! There I came face-to-face, to
two of my old operatives from Akola, Gajadhar Mahabir and Mamchand
Sharma, who had come with Agarwal. I had worked closely with them. They
were efficient operatives, and they held me in regard. A wry smile from them
and the dialogue started. “You should not have come, Saheb. You are a good
man, we know. But you cannot manage this factory with the people here.
Agarwal Saheb could manage only because six of us are here with him. The
local chemists and workmen are just “useless”. If Agarwal Saheb goes, all of
us will go with him. Whether you can survive here for six days or six months,

28
only God can say. The outer limit is six months”. I smiled and said “Gajadhar,
I have come and joined. I was not aware that Agarwal Saheb and all of you are
still here. In any case even if I had not come, someone else would have come. I
was told the management is not comfortable with Agarwal Saheb. Having
come, I have to stay, as long as I am able to manage. I will be happy if at least
both you and Mamchand stay with me. Please think of that”. “No Saheb, we
have to go. Agarwal Saheb has promised to take us to Jaipur, nearer our home
state also. We wish you well, but the earlier you leave it will be good for you
and your family”.
Ananthram, was standing a bit away and watching. He could get the drift of our
conversation which was in Hindi. He only said, “Sir, I will stand by you. The
other Chemists and workers are all capable. You need not worry about the
warnings of Gajadhar about the workmen here being useless. Agarwal never
gave us any importance or chance these five years. You can depend on us and
take your decisions. I can assure you everything will be well”. I trusted him.
Since Agarwal was still there, I decided to go and meet him in the evening at
his house, inside the factory. It was to become my home for the next six years
with domestic trials and tribulations, happiness and joy.
There were three beautiful bungalows, located and surrounded by boundary
walls, nice courtyard with greenery. I was thrilled. A big gate separated the staff
quarters from the factory. The first bungalow was occupied by C.V.S. Rao, the
Office Manager. In the second (middle one), Agarwal was staying and the third
was vacant. Anantharam had sent a worker with me to show Agarwal’s
Bungalow. I opened the gate, a 30 feet walk to the front portico, where a couple
of chairs were there, but no human presence. I walked in hesitatingly and was
climbing the portico steps, when Mrs. Agarwal literally flew out of the house,
eyes blazing and confronted me. She had seen me in Akola and his children also
knew me. Mrs. Agarwal, greeted me with choice expletives in Hindi. To be
honest I was taken aback. “How dare you dream to be a replacement for
Agarwal Saheb? Are you not aware of your own limitations? How can you ever
think of running a big factory like this, which Saheb has brought up from
scratch? You are being foolish and idiotic to even think of joining as Manager
here”.
Agarwal came out, glum faced and extended his hand. He asked me to sit down.
I blurted out “Sorry Sir, I was aware that you are in Davangere with Ravi
factory. When I was interviewed, I asked the gentlemen about you. Both of
them said, that you have already resigned and left the factory”. “Who

29
interviewed you?”, asked Agarwal. I told him, “Sreenivasamurthy and
B.P.Shetty. The appointment letter came later, and I am here. Only this morning
I heard from C.V.S.Rao that you and family are still here. I have met Gajadhar
and Mamchand also”. He took a deep breath, and asked his wife to go in. She
demurred and mouthed some more expletives. “Yeh madrasi log …kabhi….”,
as she stormed into the house.
The storm blew over. The next morning and the following days, I followed a
routine of meeting the chemists and operators in different sections, on priority,
one on one. This led to meeting the workmen mostly from Karnataka, but some
Tamils also, on the shop floor. This slowly built up my confidence. All the
sections in the factory were working normally, without the six operatives of
Agarwal, and Agarwal himself. I remember it took them about a week for
packing and departing from Davangere. Both Agarwal and I did not make any
attempt to meet each other during this time or during their departure.
I used to get information from Anantharam and one Karuppiah, a senior mason,
attached to the owner’s bungalow. He was a Tamilian, garrulous, and had the
ears of the owner as I understood later. He welcomed me in loud terms in Tamil,
and said that I will be happy with the Sowcar and Kantaraj, the General
Manager, but slyly pointed a finger at C.V.S. Rao, and advised me to be
cautious in dealing with him.!! Anantharam also cautioned me in similar terms,
along with another Sreenivasa Rao, the Chief Accountant, said to be a
confidante and man of all seasons to C.V.S.Rao. P.J.Varkey, the person in
charge of the Tin container making plant, a wizened grey haired old man, a
Keralite, and an expert in his field and over 10 years in Ravi, assured me not to
worry about his plant and also Vanaspati plant as people were capable. He said,
Oil Mill and Solvent Extraction plants may require attention and a little
polishing, after Agarwal and team leave. These were valuable tips and over time
I could work out my style of working. My task was cut out.
Appa, came with Jaya, Shantha and Bhavani, to Davangere, and the house got
organised. He returned back to Calcutta after a few days. By middle of the year,
1967, Appa, Amma, sister Raji, were in Davangere. The house was full. Appa
took an instant liking for the bungalow and surroundings. He took keen interest
in gardening. Domestic help was available and Jaya was managing the whole
show, comfortably. Factory work was taking off smoothly boosting my
confidence, with the staff and workmen.
In March 1967, Jaya’s father (Mama for me), visited Davangere to see how
well his daughter has settled. We took the opportunity to take him to Harihar, a

30
famous place with a temple on the banks of a river near Davangere. Mama was
very happy, and promised to come back again to see us in August or September
with Mami (Jaya’s mother). Unfortunately, that was not to be. Later that year,
as Mama was getting ready for visiting us with Mami, he had sudden severe
back pain. Hospitalisation and treatments proved futile, his health deteriorated,
and he passed away in December 1967. He was only 56 years old. It was a
shock for all of us and Jaya was shattered.

31
Chapter 7: When God closes a door, he opens a
window!
Appa had a setback in health, with liver problem and jaundice. Thanks to
Dr.Shivsahankar, he got cured and recouped back his health. Raji was admitted
to college for her graduation and Shantha started going to school. The turmoil
which followed in loads, from 1968 to 1972, shook me to the core. The
premature birth of twin children, a boy and a girl in November 1968 - they did
not survive. Jaya was in the hospital and withstood the trauma bravely. Raji and
myself attended to her. Then the most severe blow, of our Shantha passing away
on December 25, 1968, after a fever that lasted for just two to three days, and
eventually diagnosed as diphtheria. Dr. Shivashankar who had treated Appa
was in constant attendance, but ultimately, Jaya and I lost her. We were
shattered. Shantha was six years old and Bhavani had just turned three.
Two or three days after Shantha’s passing away, Bhavani related a dream she
had the previous night. She said “I saw Akka in my dream. She was laughing
and was happy. She told me, ‘ask Appa and Amma not to be sad because I am
not there. I am happy here sitting in a simahasanam with Guruvayurappa. You
look after them and make them happy’.” Coming from our three-year old
Bhavani, it shook us to the core. Bhavani who was a very chirpy and cheerful
child, tended to become an introvert. Jaya was traumatised. It is only by God’s
grace that she did not lose her mental balance.
After a few months, when Bhavani was unwell and had to be taken to the
hospital, we were fortunate to meet , Dr. Nirmala Kesaree - a genial young
doctor and paediatrician, who was adored by both her colleagues and her
patients. She became close to Jaya. Seeing her sadness, Nirmala advised Jaya
on the futility of grieving. She explained to her that life has to move on, and
that she should focus on looking after Bhavani, and perhaps have another baby
who could be a sibling to Bhavani. We are deeply indebted to Dr. Nirmala for
her counselling.
Our daughter Anuradha came in our life in May 1971. There was a movie called
Anuradha, the songs of which were very pleasing and Jaya picked the name
from there.
Life moved on. Jaya reconciled slowly, standing shoulder to shoulder with me
and giving me courage.

32
Raji’s graduation, Appa and Amma moving back to Palakkad, all came up one
by one. Appa was searching for a proper alliance for Raji. It was a struggle I
came to know later. Appa was getting dejected. The marriage was finalised in
1971/72. Ramani, working in IPCL Baroda, was the groom. The marriage was
to be in 1973.
I was looked upon as a good Chief Chemist and Manager. B.P. Shetty and
Kantaraj encouraged me to join the Rotary Club of Davangere. Socially I made
good friends. I was elected as Secretary of the Rotary Club, and I arranged
projects for medical treatment of rural children. At my request, Dr. Nirmala
agreed to join our team on at least three occasions. It was a highly rewarding
experience- the villagers were happy, Dr. Nirmala was happy, and it gave me a
sense of achievement. Kantaraj and Shetty were happy. C.V.S Rao and
Sreenivasa Rao, were however not happy with my growing popularity. While
they tried to needle me on factory matters, C.V.S. Rao went to the extent of
saying that being a Keralite, I was clever and using ‘Black Magic’ to catch the
favourable attention of Sowcar, Shetty and Kantaraj!!!
Meanwhile, in the factory, some local entrepreneurs from Shimoga came to
look at the De Smet Solvent Extraction plant. They came through the Sowcar
and I was allowed to talk to them. I gave them all technical details and helped
them to choose the equipment. They were very happy. They put up a factory
called Jayapadma Extraction Industries, in Shikaripur, Shimoga District. I
realised much later that this was a divine intervention in my life.
Times of turmoil and change
There was a sudden turn of events in 1971, when Anu was a few months old
and Bhavani was six. Serious labour unrest was brewing over a period in
Davangere Cotton Mills, and this resulted in a violent outburst from the
workmen. One afternoon, the MD, B.P. Shetty, who had interviewed me, was
dragged out of his office and murdered in broad daylight, around 2.30 pm or so.
A group of workmen ransacked the office and beat up some staff members.
They were searching for other senior managers too. There was loud commotion
and uproar. A group armed with iron rods and sticks, rushed towards Ravi,
shouting loudly, calling for death of more managers. My factory was about
1000 metres away from Cotton Mills. The watchmen and security people got
wind of these activities, rushed into my office and asked us to run away. My

33
administrative officer, Seshadri, who sat in the front office just outside mine,
rushed in.
We were scared. Our families were in the quarters. Jaya was at home with Anu
and Bhavani was in school. To come out from the office and rush to the quarters
would have been suicidal, as the workmen were rushing in. My mind went
blank, I just looked at the small photo of Guruvaurappan, I used to keep on my
work table, and took a deep breath. Seshadri and I rushed inside a new
laboratory that I had rigged up just behind my office for some special work, and
locked ourselves. The workers rushed in. They asked the watchman where the
manager was and rushed towards the quarters. Jaya inside the house with Anu
in a cradle, could hear the workmen shouting, “this is the house of the Ravi
Manager. Don’t harm them. Look only for the Cotton Mill Managers”. They
rushed towards the houses where Senior Staff of Cotton Mills were staying. The
managers were not there. The armed workmen did no harm to the families and
the commotion was over by 7 pm. Seshadri and myself came out from the
Laboratory, our hiding place, and rushed towards our families and were greatly
relieved. The families were safe. Later I could make out that the anger was not
on the Owner, but Shetty himself, who would not accede to their demands.
These events happened towards the end of 1971.
After a few weeks, C.V.S.Rao called me to the office. He said, “Vaidyanathan,
the matter is serious. Sowcar has identified the killers of B.P.Shetty. We have
to punish them. The matter is in the Courts now. Sowcar wants you to come to
the court and identify the people and give evidence that they were the ones who
killed Shetty. Your evidence as Manager will carry weight”. I was caught
unawares. In my mind I decided that I will not give any false evidence, since I
was not a witness to what had happened. I took time from C.V.S. Rao, telling
him that I would decide in a day or two. He said “Sowcar wants a positive reply
by tomorrow”. Having decided, I spoke to Jaya about my predicament and also
that if I did not accede, I may lose the job. She readily agreed and was forceful
that I should not give any false evidence. I was relieved. I spoke to Appa and
Ambi and both supported my decision. The next day I kept quiet. The day after
Rao called me, I told him of my decision. Two days later there was another call.
I was told point blank that if I was not ready to give evidence, then I would have
to resign from my job. At that time, maybe March 1972 or so, Jaya was
expecting again, and the delivery was due in October/November. Bhavani, Anu,
and the new entrant to the family expected. I do not know how, but I felt a
strange calm.

34
Two weeks passed and Rao started asking for my programme. I told him of the
family exigency and requested time. “No, the matter can be decided by Sowcar
only”, he said. I met the Sowcar. He heard me and asked no questions on my
decision to resign. He only said, “Stay as long as you like. In case you need any
help during the delivery, for your wife let me know”.
Around that time, completely unexpected, the factory owners from Shikaripur,
who I had helped a few months earlier to put up Jayapadma Extraction
Industries, came to my house one night and said, “Sir, we have come to know
that you have resigned the job here. We invite you to join us and look after our
Factory. You had helped us”. I did not hesitate and agreed. “You can name your
salary”, they said. On the spur of the moment I asked, “Can you pay me
Rs.1,500/- per month plus accommodation free of charge?”. They agreed, and
I had a job. Matters moved fast, winding up operations; Ananthram was looking
after day-to-day activities of the factory. Workers were visiting but the curtains
had to be drawn on my career in Ravi 1967 to 1972. No regrets, and happy to
have successfully run the factory for over five years and not wilted under the
pressures and threats.
Jaya delivered a baby girl in October ‘72. Since her arrival heralded a new job
for me in tumultuous times, as Manager of Jayapadma Extraction Industries, I
suggested Jayapadma! Jaya willingly agreed. Jaya and the three daughters were
shifted to Madras where Jaya’s brother Aghoram was living with his family in
Poes Gardens. It was a beautiful bungalow built by Jaya’s father. They stayed
there till I got a house in Shikaripur and settled in my new job.

35
Chapter 8: The wine experiment
The story of my life in Davangere will not be complete if I do not relate the
Wine Saga, which always evokes laughter. A delightful experience with lots of
fizz and mirth. Inside Ravi Factory there was a two-acre land where Sowcar
cultivated grape vines. Four or five different types of grapes were grown under
expert supervision. The grapes were nice. In the factory soap manufacturing
unit, there was one Kailasa Iyer, a garrulous Malayalee. He was good at his
work and was happy advising on all the jobs in the factory. We kept him to his
job. He took keen interest in the vineyard and managed to convince C.V.S. Rao
that he is an expert in wine making and he can try making it in the factory with
the grapes.
Even without drinking, I think the talk of alcohol itself intoxicates. C.V.S.Rao,
put in a word to Kantaraj who in turn passed it on to Sowcar. All readily agreed.
Kailasa Iyer said he is good in astrology and an auspicious day was fixed.
Grapes were collected, spread on big white cloths after washing, dried for three
days in the sun. I think about 12 to 15 bottles were procured with corks and all.
The factory had a large coffee grinder, which I was using to grind handpicked
groundnuts, to make a product called Baal Ahaar for the Food Corporation of
India. This project was done by me and C.V.S.Rao and brought good revenues
for the company. It was for this I had made a special laboratory to test aflatoxins
in groundnut seeds. (This was the same laboratory where Sesdhadri and I had
taken refuge during the labour turmoil). I had learnt testing from CFTRI Mysore
where I spent about 15 days.
This large coffee grinder came in handy to crush the grapes. Bright sparkling
grape juice came out, was collected, filtered over muslin cloth, filled bottles and
corked. Kailasa Iyer was the hero. He muttered some mantras to the delight of
Sowcar and Kantaraj and other staffers, tied white cloths over the corks of the
bottles. He had got a pit dug in the vineyard about 4 feet deep to place the 12 to
15 bottles of the grape juice, to be opened after four months! The date was noted
and the wine kept to age. A small lecture on wine making and a cup of tea with
Sowcar ended the day. Four months later, a big celebration was planned.
Everyone was ready with smacking lips, to taste the homegrown wine. Kailasa
Iyer was ecstatic and was ready with loud guffaws. The time came. With Iyer
breathing down his neck, the gardener Rangappa, dug the wine pit and slowly
took out the first bottle. Iyer checked whether there were enough glasses.

36
He slowly untied the cloth over the cork and pulled out the cork with a
corkscrew, and then hell broke loose!! There was a loud explosion, as the high-
pressured liquid burst out and squirted all over with a not too pleasant smell!
First straight on the face of Iyer and on Sowcar, who was peering over, and
Kantaraj. Never to accept defeat, Iyer laughed it off, explaining temperature
difference causing the blowout. Much to everyone’s disappointment, however,
the next three bottles too met the same disastrous fate. Sowcar called off further
operations and left in a huff. That was Wine Saga, a story for memories and lot
of laughter in retrospect!

37
Chapter 9: A place called Shikaripur
I joined Jayapadma Extraction Industries in Shikaripur, a village near Shimoga,
a typical rural place. The factory and the plant were nice and there were good
operatives also. I initially stayed in a nearby hotel. Later, when the house was
ready, I shifted. The house had about eight rooms, one attached to the other in
a linear manner like railway compartments! You walk through a walkway and
open the room you want, just like a hotel! There was also an open well outside.
Jaya, and the daughters, Bhavani Anuradha and Jayapadma accompanied by
Jaya’s mother, joined me and the household started. Bhavani was put in a
village school running virtually under a tree like Tagore’s Shantiniketan! The
school was called Giddan Kudi, Kannada for School! Jaya’s mother (Mami)
was cheerful and happy to be in Karnataka. She had spent her early years in
Karnataka and was familiar with the language, culture and music. She and Jaya
happily ran the household while I attended the factory, which was about 5km
away and I travelled by a factory jeep. The workmen were good, but I had no
mental satisfaction, and became restless with the small factory in an idyllic rural
setting, where there was nothing much I could do.
As days moved on, I got a letter from Calcutta which had reached the Davangere
address and was forwarded to me by Anantharam. The envelope said, ‘from
Doyapore Tea Co. Ltd. Calcutta’. Opening it, I was happy to see a letter from
Mr. Raghu Mody asking me whether I could join as their Chief Chemist and
Factory Manager in Rasoi Factory in Calcutta!
Matters moved fast. I wrote to Ambi. He went and met Mody, who was
impressed with Ambi’s credentials and offered him the job of P.R.O. in Rasoi.
Ambi politely declined, and talked about me. I was called to Madras for an
interview. My old relationship with Mr. Mody was rekindled, and the
conversation was congenial and I decided to join Rasoi. Mody spelt the terms:
Rs. 1800/- per month as salary, free furnished accommodation in the Factory,

38
all expenses met, and a car with a chauffeur3
(he underscored this point) for
my personal use!!
I returned to Shikaripur, dwelling on the quick turn of events. The appointment
letter came a fortnight later and I joined Rasoi on the 11th
of July 1973. Ambi
was living in Lake Road near Vivekananda Park at that time. And so my
Calcutta life started.
3
Rambaran Mishra, the chauffer who came with the car, stayed with me till the end of my long
stint at Rasoi and was like a family member!

39
Chapter 10: A new and long chapter begins in
Kolkata
Ups and downs, thrills, joy, domestic tragedies all were interwoven into this
period of my life. My colleagues at the Rasoi factory, right from day one:
Banerjea, the Chief Engineer, Dey the Production Manager, Lahiri, the Senior
Chemist, all accepted me wholeheartedly and I knew I could manage the
factory. They all became family friends. The office was on the ground level,
and I was given housing accommodation on the first floor above the office. It
was a nice three-bedroom apartment with a large hall, kitchen, store room, baths
and a large balcony. Ambi had the house furnished, and it was ready to live in.
An Avalanche of Domestic Tragedies
Ambi’s personal life was in tatters and had ended in divorce with Kamala. Appa
was devastated. Raji’s marriage was celebrated in 1973. Appa and Amma were
very happy to see my settling down in New Alipore and Rasoi, but Ambi’s
setback cast a dark shadow in our lives. Appa was searching for a bride for
Ambi and Janaki, entered our lives in late 1973.
Appa was keeping indifferent health. They went to Trichy in 1975 to celebrate
Raji’s Seemantham. She was expecting her first child. I could not go and Ambi
had taken them. On the night after the Seemantham, Appa passed away, lying
on the lap of Amma. This was on 25th
January 1975. More or less a peaceful
end, leaving a large a void for me and Ambi. I went to Trichy for the final rites.
I could not even see Appa’s body as the cremation was over, leaving me only
with memories. Final religious rites for Appa were done in Tambaram in
Madras, with Bagyam and family, and we returned to Calcutta. Amma
withdrew into herself, and would not even smile. It tugged at our hearts, but
nothing could be done. The end was nearing and she passed away in May 1975,
in the Lake Road residence of Ambi. Chemba had come and Raji was there.
The final rites were conducted and a big chasm left before us. Raji delivered a
boy soon after Amma’s passing away, Dorai, but he too passed away the
following year after a short illness. Raji and all of us were devastated.

40
Rasoi- The Early Days
As in-charge of the factory I had to start from basics. Vanaspati was a controlled
item with a plethora of rules and the “License Raj” was supreme. Some of the
procedures in the plant needed course correction. I remembered
Balasubramaniam of Akola and mentally thanked him for teaching me the
procedures. I discussed with my colleagues at the factory- Banerjea, Dey and
Lahiri, who agreed and helped me streamline the processes.
The immediate fallout of this was that I found myself accepted fully by
Banerjea, Dey and Lahiri, and through them the whole gamut of factory staff-
all Bengalis. The workforce was a mix of men from Bengal, Bihar and UP. They
started calling me “bada saheb”- a label that steadily endured all through my
stay at Rasoi till 1996. It stood me in good stead even during the worst of labour
troubles which was raging all over Bengal and Rasoi was no exception. No one
talked of my being a Keralite and or of Black Magic, here!
Our family life went on peacefully. All the daughters were enrolled in school.
Another addition to the family was Lalitha in 1976. She was born at 4.30 a.m.
Jaya was singing the “Lalitha Pancharatnam”- a beautiful sloka that goes
“Pratah smarami Lalitha vadanaravindam…”. Jaya has always imbued music,
and at this time, it also helped her alleviate the pains of childbirth. The baby
girl was naturally named “Lalitha”, to all round happiness and joy. Schooling
of the daughters, in Ashok Hall (Tollygunge) with Bhavani leading the team of
Anu and Padma, and soon followed by Lalitha, where they made good friends.
Image 8: Left to
Right – Padma,
Anu, Lalitha,
Bhavani

41
I joined the Oil Technologist’s Association of India (OTAI), and later the
Rotary Club of Calcutta South West. I became a member of the American Oil
Chemist’s Society and was elected President of OTAI’s East India Chapter.
This brought me in touch with brilliant Professors and technologists in the field
- Notably, Professor M.M.Chakrabarty. Through him I became popular in the
Chemistry Department of Calcutta University. I could spend time in the
Laboratories at the University and interact with senior people, and wrote
technical papers under the supervision of Prof. Chakrabarty. I published several
papers in the Journal of the American Oil Chemist’s Society and the OTAI.
I was called to give lectures at various Oil Technology Associations. I provided
facility in the factory by way of equipment and my own participation, where
Prof. Chakrabarty could upscale his Laboratory Experiment findings to
Industrial Scale, with Mody’s nod of course. A highlight of our collaboration
was the production of Vanaspati without Hydrogenation and Nickel Catalyst, a
process called Inter-esterification during a time when there was a worldwide
lobby against the use of nickel as a catalyst for hydrogenation. In the process,
Prof. Chakrabarty also became a close family friend. His wife and children were
fond of Jaya and the girls.
I also devoted time to develop a new process for degumming of Rice Bran Oil.
Those days, India was heavily dependent on import of edible oils and any local
oil was welcome. Oil from Rice Bran was one. The processing was difficult and
the gums were removed by using Phosphoric Acid. I studied research papers on
using Molasses for degumming the oil. I discussed with Prof. Chakrabarty and
his colleagues and with their approval encouraged Mody and Jain to invest and
start the process in Rasoi.
My colleagues in Rasoi were very supportive. With this we were able to mix
more than 50 percent of Rice Bran Oil with other oils to make Vansaspati. The
national norm was around 10 percent and used by our competitors. Molasses
being a by-product of sugarcane crushing, was cheaper and not a mineral acid.
Mody expressed his happiness. He sponsored my trips to foreign countries to
attend technical conferences - UK, USA, Europe, Malaysia, Nepal and to Japan.
I was also able to take Jaya on a short vacation in 1982, during one of the visits
to Europe.
I was elected President of the Rotary Club of Calcutta South West. Mody
openly expressed his pleasure. Ambi was working with Chandamama
Publications, Madras. They published a Braille edition of Chandamama. I got
it released in my club with Mody as the Chief Guest. Mody was a member of

42
the Rotary Club of Calcutta. He happily did the book release and made a
handsome donation to the club. Meeting Ambi at the Club, he smiled and said
“you should have joined my group!” I just imagined, both of us in Rasoi!
One of the highlights of my association with Rotary was a visit to the Club by
Mother Teresa. We had raised some funds for the Missionaries of Charity and
she came to thank us. I was struck by her simplicity and humility and cherish
the blessings she gave us.
Image 9: Mother Teresa’ visit to Rotary Club of Calcutta South West (1980)

43
Rasoi had gone public in 1976 and I was elevated to be the Technical Director
of the Company. I was happy seeing my name in newspapers and in the Annual
Accounts and Balance Sheets of the Company. Ambi was very happy. We
missed Appa and Amma.
Mody acquired two more Vanaspati Factories, one in Kundli in Haryana and
another in Bhiwani, also in Haryana. I surveyed the plants along with Jain and
started running them. In Bhiwani, my former boss from Belghoria Factory
Aryendra Singh joined as General Manager. I was happy. Rasoi also put up a
Cottonseed plant in Jalgaon in Maharashtra. I did the selection of equipment
and started the plant.
Domestic tragedy struck again. Ambi was having indifferent health from 1980
or so. Treatments in Calcutta, Madras and Kerala failed to show improvement.
He managed till around mid-1982. I brought him and his wife Janaki to our New
Alipore residence, where his treatment continued. Ambi breathed his last in
April 1983 . He was around 56 years. I was shattered. Jaya and the children
consoled me. Ambi’s wife Janaki shifted to Madras to live with her brother and
family. Balan, my nephew who was working with Ambi, shifted to Bangalore.
Image 10: Bhavani, Lalitha, Jaya, Vaithu, Ambi, Janaki; in front – Anu and
Padma

44
Chapter 11: A journey through highs and lows
Education of our children in Ashok Hall continued. Bhavani used to attend the
Ramakrishna Mission Institute of Culture in Gol Park and made a name as a
good speaker, a keen participant in the Study Circle and the Mission’s youth
programmes. The Swamijis held her in high regard and she spoke at an
International Conference of Youth held in Belur Math. The mission had good
libraries which were frequented by our daughters. Bhavani encouraged Anu,
Padma and Lalitha also to take part in the activities in the Institute. Winning
prizes at the annual events in the Mission almost became a habit with all the
three. Jaya and myself happily looked forward to the events . After school,
Bhavani studied in Lady Brabourne College, and later in Calcutta University
and completed M.A in Economics. She passed an Examination with State Bank
of India (SBI) and joined as a Probationary Officer in 1990. We were very
happy.
Jaya’s mother, was called Chitti by everyone. I used to call her Mami. She was
very affectionate and occasionally spent some time with us at our New Alipore
home. I developed a sort of mother-son bond with her. She later shifted to
Bangalore to live with her son Aghoram and his wife Vanaja. She passed away
in September 1992, at Bangalore.
Rumblings of labour trouble at the factory, put down periodically, spurted in
1996. It continued for a few months, when Jain suddenly shifted to Jaipur. He
was the MD of the company. He imputed the labour unrest to my inept handling
and put a condition that he will take charge, if I am removed from the factory.
I was 62 then. Mody recalled an unwritten rule of Rasoi that Executives will
retire at the age of 60, and decided I should retire! So it was, on November 16th
1996, I officially left the New Alipore Quarters. Bhavani was in SBI and got a
flat on bank lease in Saptasur, Gachtala, and we shifted there. It was an exercise
packing 23 years of accumulated belongings and moving it into another. We
stayed in our new abode for about a year.
Mody was enquiring off and on about me. He asked me to join Rasoi again as
Advisor and provided living quarters in Sreepal Apartments in Ranikuthi, near
Tollygunge. A year of travelling around, and I was inducted back into the Rasoi
Board. Mody’s daughter-in-law, Shashi Mody, was in charge of day today
activities in Rasoi. Mody decided to shift the factory from New Alipore, which
was a predominantly residential area and had always been the target of

45
complaints from residents over noise and atmospheric pollution caused by the
Factory. Shashi Mody and myself started scouting for suitable land in South 24
Parganas district. After about six months or so, we located a place in
Banganagar, about 35 kilometres from New Alipore. We had to buy freehold
land of about six acres, from about 105 different owners, owning contiguous
land. This took almost a year. Selection of plant and equipment and civil
construction followed. The plant became operational in 2002. Living in
Banganagar and running the factory, I felt was cumbersome and not practical,
so I called it a day. Meanwhile, we had purchased a flat in Ranikuthi in 1999,
actually two flats adjacent to each other, which we joined together. Sumangal
Apartments, where another chapter of our lives began!
Image 11: Prayer has always held an important part in our lives. It is
something we do together

46
Chapter 11A: A Test
Somewhere towards the end of 1990, Bhavani developed a friendship with
Anand, son of Shri Sambamurthy, an Executive with Indian Oxygen. The
family was good, also living in New Alipore. We became good friends. When
the proposal of marriage of Bhavani with Anand came, we were happy. The one
snag which I could feel was that Anand, who had done his MBA from IIM
Calcutta, was working with a rural NGO in Kashele located in Raigad district,
Maharashtra; a job he practically revered, but it seemed impractical from an
economic standpoint, to Jaya and me. Bhavani was not bothered about this, as
I found that they had developed a happy mental equation with each other. The
marriage was fixed and the wedding was celebrated at the Laxminarayan
Temple in Sarat Bose Road, in October 1992. Bhavani resigned from her job in
State Bank of India. After the wedding Anand went back to his work place;
Bhavani left to join him just before Christmas. A happy send off at Howrah
Station and phone calls on safe arrival at Kashele.
Lightning struck on 27th
December. We were in Saturday Club that afternoon,
with Jaya’s brother - Raju and his family. A telephone call came from Darshan
Shankar, head of the NGO where Anand was working. The news was sufficient
to make me howl in madness. Anand was dead. He had gone with Bhavani to
the river near the NGO campus, where he used to go regularly. That day both
had a swim and Anand had drowned. Destiny? The moving hand writes and
having writ moves on……. Corrections or change of course absolutely
impossible. Jaya and myself rushed to Kashele. Raju also accompanied us. My
sister Chemba, brother-in-law Seshadri and their daughter Gowri rushed down
from Mumbai. We met Darshan Shankar and visited the place where the tragedy
occurred. Sambamurthy, his wife and older son Srikant were there. Anu who
was studying at National Law School in Bangalore at that time had also come
with Anand’s family. Aghoram (Jaya’s elder brother) and his wife Vanaja from
Bangalore, visited later.
We had to discuss the future of Bhavani. She was fully taken up with Anand’s
work at the NGO and wanted to continue there. Jaya and myself were clear in
our mind that our Bhavani has to come back with us to Calcutta and we were
able to persuade her. I felt someone had slapped me and I was dizzy. Jaya was
more composed and gave me courage and support. We approached the Chief
Manager at the SBI, explained the situation and requested him to not accept the

47
resignation submitted by Bhavani earlier, and allow her to join her duties. God’s
blessings were with us and he agreed. Time moved on as usual.
Bhavani was back in SBI where she made a name for herself, as she slowly
dealt with her grief. She was promoted to Deputy Manager and Branch
Manager. In between, she was selected by SBI and deputed to IIT Bombay in
1993 for a M.Phil, in Planning and Development. She stayed in the IIT hostel
and completed the course. Back in Calcutta after the M.Phil, she was posted in
different branches, but was not too happy with the bank job, and decided to
resign after 10 years of service. She joined the M S Swaminathan Research
Foundation (MSSRF) in Madras in the year 2000. We visited and stayed with
Bhavani in Madras, first in Indranagar, and subsequently in Tiruvanmiyur and
Besant Nagar.
While Bhavani was at MSSRF, she was introduced by friends to Srikumar, who
was running a small business in Madras. They became friendly and started
meeting each other. This was around 2005 or 2006. Mental equations seemed
to gel and they decided to get married. We were happy, and met the family
staying in Mylapore. The marriage was registered in Madras on 24th
June 2009,
in a family get together.

48
Chapter 12: Our daughters grow
Studying in Ashok Hall Tollygunge, Bhavani, Anu, Padma, and Lalitha, all of
them made special niche marks for themselves. I do not know whether I should
have devoted more time to all of them. Factory work, and other activities had
most of my time. Jaya put in her efforts in training them and bringing out the
BEST in them. Anu shifted to Ashok Hall in Minto Park after Class 10.
Completing Class 12 in 1990, she saw an advertisement in the papers from
National Law School of India University (NLSIU), located in Bangalore, which
was just established. I went with her to the examination centre in
St.James’School in Sealdah and met the Director of the School, Dr. N.R.
Madhava Menon. Anu passed the entrance with flying colours and was keen to
join. Jaya and myself discussed and agreed to send her. Anu would stay in the
college hostel. She was in the third batch of 60 students in NLSIU, to get
BA.LLB. degree. She got over the initial hiccups at the new place and the new
studies. She was 19 years old when she went to Bangalore. Running the family,
and education for the children, funds were a constraint at times. I shared with
Mody and he readily agreed to give Rs.1000/- per month, from Manoj Mody
Foundation for all the five years of her education. This was a very welcome
support.
The Foundation was in memory of Mody’s only son Manoj, who had died in an
accident. I had worked with him while Kundli and Bhiwani factories were
acquired, and we had a mutual liking for each other. I could feel he held me in
high regard. Those days, Company Laws were strict as I was made to
understand by Jain and the annual increments allowed for Directors was a
meagre Rs. 350/- ! With the result, my salary when I retired in 1996, was just
Rs.9900/- p.m. Jain was too powerful and carried the ears of Mody, who was
having a tough time after losing his son Manoj, and also nurturing new
acquisitions, J L Morison and Co, and Hindustan Ferrodo both in Bombay. But
what did cause anguish in me was when I heard, that a senior colleague had
made an open comment in the office that “he had never met a Director of a
Company accepting Charity”! Was he alluding to Mody giving me Rs.1000/-
per month from Manoj Mody Foundation? So be it, I couldn’t care less.
My goals were clear and set. Education of the children was supreme and Anu’s
education continued. She made quick progress, making a mark everywhere,
participating in Moot Court competitions etc. She came out with flying colours

49
with BA.LLB. She won the Felix Scholarship the year she graduated from
NLSIU and went on to study Masters in Law, LL.M. from the School of
Oriental and African Studies in London. Some years later, she capped it with a
LLM from New York University!! All on her own merit.
Padma meanwhile was making a mark of her own. She always felt upset and
sad at being compared to Bhavani and Anu, at Ashok Hall by her teachers. After
completing Class X in Ashok Hall, she shifted to the Loreto Convent where she
completed her Higher Secondary education. Trying for future studies in design,
she attempted the entrance at the National Institute of Design. It was her
passion and she passed the examinations, but did not clear the interview. Her
selection to the School of Planning and Architecture was blocked as the West
Bengal Board exam results were delayed. She subsequently decided to follow
Bhavani’s footsteps and went to St.Xavier’s College, where she completed
Honours in Economics; soon after she was selected to join the Institute of Rural
Management in Anand, Gujarat, in 1994.
Anu’s education was continuing. Mody used to enquire of her progress in
studies. He always asked about all the daughters. On my informing him of
Padma joining IRMA, he enquired how long the course was. When I said, two
years, he readily offered Rs.1000/-p.m for her studies, even as the contribution
towards Anu’s studies was continuing. It was a welcome and timely assistance.
I have no regrets about low salary or increments!! Higher salary offers from
local Vanaspati factory owners and surprisingly one from Benares, based on
my reputation with Rasoi, were politely declined by me, a decision I never
regretted.
Padma also came out with flying colours. She used to keep us posted about the
intricacies of Rural Management experiences. Her experience of staying in
interior rural villages, in rural households, with no sanitation facilities still
overawe me and Jaya. Her experience of sleeping in a cowshed, the affection
and care the village women showered on her, is a thing I always hold high in
my memories.
In 1996, both Anu and Padma were living in Gurgaon, after completion of their
studies, employed in different places, staying together. Padma moved later to
Dumka in Bihar for work and Anu to Delhi.
Lalitha’s education continued. In consultation with Prof. Chakrabarty, and her
own inclinations, she chose to study Physiology in Calcutta and completed her
Bachelor’s degree from Presidency College and Master’s degree from Calcutta

50
University. She applied to PhD programs in the US and got admission at the
University of Arizona (UofA), Tucson in the year 2001. Following a telephone
interview, she was offered a full scholarship to pursue her Ph.D. in Cancer
Immunology at the UofA. This was all new to me. She was around 24 years old.
Expenses for travel to Arizona were comfortably met and Lalitha left home. We
never for a moment dreamt that she would end up settling down there for good.
Lalitha Ramanathapuram completed her Ph.D. in 2006. Anu and Piyush visited
Arizona for her Convocation and award of Ph.D. She followed this up with
Post-Doctoral Research first in Arizona and then in New York while also
pursuing a course in Public Health from New York University and chose to
settle down in New York thereafter. After her Master’s in Public Health, she
took a job with New York University, and worked on a project related to malaria
research which brought her to India, every three months. We could not ask for
more happiness. She then got a more challenging posting in the Cancer
Immunology division of Memorial Sloan Kettering Hospital in New York.
Socially she has built up a good circle of friends and is happily settled in New
York.
By this time, there were new additions to our family- Anu and Padma had
married Piyush and Liby, respectively. In May 2006, our little Karuna was born
to Padma and Liby.
Engaged in their own chosen activities, chalking out independent lives on their
own, is the hallmark of our daughters. Jaya and myself had full confidence in
all of them. Keeping to the family traditions though not literally, as we also
follow, each day the bond between the sisters grows stronger. As we step into
the twilight of our lives, this happiness will sustain us. I recall what our good
friend Dr. Banerjee Choudhry told us, “Vaidyanathan Saheb, you have Four
Invaluable Gems in your Four Daughters. You will always be Happy”. We are
Happy Parents.

51
Chapter 13: The journey of life continues
We had left Rasoi Factory in 1996, and I was asked to re-join in 1997, as already
mentioned earlier. Around 1999, Anu expressed her wish to get married to her
Law School classmate Piyush Joshi. Around that time Padma also chose her
partner in life, Liby Johnson, her classmate from IRMA! Hectic discussions
between me and Jaya. We had no reservations. I am yet to comprehend, how
my parents and even Ambi would have reacted to such proposals, from
absolutely diverse backgrounds. Piyush Joshi from UP (later Uttarakhand), and
Liby Johnson from Kerala! Our decisions, Jaya and myself, our confidence in
our daughters, and their happiness our ultimate goal, the marriages took place.
Anu was married on 11th
February 1999. We were in Sumangal Apartments
then. Piyush’s parents and brother had come and a simple ceremony of
registration of the wedding at home, was completed. We held a reception at the
Saturday Club where our friends could come and greet the couple.
In Padma’s case, both Liby and Padma were in Mohuda in Orissa, working with
a NGO Gram Vikas. His parents were living in Pathinamthitta in Kerala. To
avoid any clash of opinions on discussion, both the families decided to hold the
wedding and registration in Mohuda in April of 2000!! Liby’s parents travelling
to Berhampur from Kerala and us travelling there from Calcutta. All wedding
arrangements at Mohuda, done by Liby and Padma with active assistance from
Joe Madiath, head of the NGO Gram Vikas. We chose to take my colleague
Banerjea and his wife, Prof.Chakrabarty and his wife and my friend Kar from
Calcutta to Berhampur by train. Comfortably accommodated in Mohuda, the
wedding reception on 15th
April, 2000, was attended by over 300 people, staff
and villagers in Mohuda. A memorable experience! Liby’s parents came to
Calcutta with us, before returning to Kerala.
Time and tide waits for no man. Days flew. Years just passed by. I decided to
call it quits to service in 2002 after the Bangagar unit started operating. Mody
wished I should continue in the Board of Directors, as an Independent Director,
which I do till today. We have spent time living in Chennai with Bhavani, and
with Padma and Liby in Trivandrum, and most importantly, with Padma and
her six-month old Karuna for almost a year at Anand in Gujarat (2006-07),
when Padma was teaching at her alma mater, IRMA. Anu and Piyush decided
to leave their jobs working for large law firms, and chalk out their own course
by establishing Clarus Law Associates as a partnership firm in New Delhi in

Memories & Musings - Tales of a Palakkad Boy

Memories & Musings - Tales of a Palakkad Boy

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