SCHOOL DAYS AND ACHIEVEMENTS

The best part of our life in Pondicherry was the children Raji, Bala and Viji’s chance to attend the best school – the convent, St. Joseph de Cluny High School. The school had different sections, English medium and French medium. Our children attended the English medium, where French was taught as second language. Mother Peter, as we started calling her, once we came to know each other well, was the Principal of the English school.

The Rev. Mother Peter Claver, to give her full name, was a very distinguished person, very friendly, and with a smile and good word for every one. She in return was loved and respected by all the students, and by all the parents. She had the capacity to make every child of the school to do their best to the extent possible. She goaded the not so good ones to do well (in studies), the good ones to do better, the better ones to do their best, and the best ones to excel themselves. And the students did not let her down.


Viji and Raja at breakfast before school










Raji, who was a very good student, excelled herself and did both Mother Peter and us her parents proud by passing the school leaving Matriculation with first class marks. She was ranked first in Pondicherry, and second in the whole of Madras State, as Tamilnadu was then known. Were we proud of her! The school presented her with a gold medal. Raji is not the only one in the family to have got a gold medal. Babuji was also a gold medallist - for topping in English, when he passed his B. A. The next gold medallist in the family is Gowri, when she topped in her M. A. (English Litt) some 20 years after Raji. Raji became eligible for a Govt. Merit cum Means scholarship, when she joined Lady Shri Ram College in Delhi to do Eng. Litt. But her father’s earnings exceeded Rs.1,000, and she was denied that scholarship.

Mother Peter was very, very fond of Raji, and Raji always insists, even today, that she was Mother Peter’s pet. She even visited Raji in Madras, when she settled down there after marriage. They stayed in touch with each other till Mother Peter died. Mother Peter saw to it that Raji took part in all the activities in school like sports (she was House- Captain, even) and variety programmes. Not only Raji, Bala, Viji and Raja, once he joined the school, took part in all these activities which helped them to be more self-possessed and confident about themselves.

Raja, once he joined school became Mother Peter’s ‘sweetheart’. She became very fond of Raja, who was very adorable, even though I say it myself. While at school, Raja once got injured when a cyclist hit him and knocked him down, as he was crossing the street. Mother Peter herself escorted Raja home, after giving him first aid.

Raja is at the extreme right, near the little girl, in this playtime picture

When Raja joined school his education was free. The rule was that every fourth child of a family was not charged fees, if all four children were studying in the school at the same time. Next year Bala (fourth from the bottom in this line-up at Cluny) had to move to another school, Petit Seminaire for his middle school, as boys were not allowed in High School - the school was co-ed only till Std. VII. In Petit Seminaire also Bala took part in many school activities, and won prizes too. Here you see Bala as a gypsy in the fancy dress competition at the Petit Seminaire.
After passing Std. VIII, he joined Madrasi School in New Delhi to do High School, before joining IIT.

Viji started attending Bharata Natyam classes privately and even performed on stage when Tara Cherian, then Governor of Madras, visited Pondicherry. Viji was the pet of Uncle and Aunty, our dear friends Krishnaswamy and Indira. At that time their son was not yet born, and Viji was thoroughly spoilt by them.

All told the children too, in their own way had a very good and enjoyable time in Pondicherry.

Babuji started feeling he had spent enough time in the south, and that it was time to be back in Delhi. So as not to disrupt the children’s education, Raji was sent to Trivandrum to my parents’ place to do P-U. C, a one year course. Bala was sent to be with Chippachi to do his High School. And I was not at all happy – Raji just 15, and Bala just 13.

Raji came back after doing her P-U. C. do you know what she did? Mother Peter was in need of someone to take the place of a teacher who was on leave. Raji took up the challenge and taught Maths to students of classes 5, 6 and 7 – and she was only 16 then – and Viji was one of her students

Gowri’s second daughter Swati also followed Raji’s footsteps after passing out of school last year. She helped in a friend’s school by teaching Biology for three months, where the students were just a couple of years younger than she was. She was so good , that the students begged her not to leave when she had to go to Delhi LSR College for further studies.

Once at a party, M. Bertho of the French government told me that he had seen my husband gallivanting with a young lovely girl, many a time, and that I should be more careful and more strict with him. You should have seen his expression when I told him that the young girl he referred to was none other than our eldest daughter! He could not believe it saying “You both do not look old enough to have such a grown up daughter.”

What a compliment.

Raji with the medal, and (right) at one of the programmes. (She is in the centre, left row ).

DINNER DANCES, AND (FANCY) DRESSES

The Cercle de Pondichery was the local club where the elite met every evening for a game of tennis, or a round of bridge, or several rounds of drinks. Babuji, who used to play tennis before he got married, started playing again every evening, and enjoyed it very much.

It was here at the club I was introduced to Dubonnet, a sweet wine, which I really enjoyed, and given a choice, I always went for that. The children were given a treat at the club once a week, the club’s special open toasted sandwich with tomato and onion chutney, which we had never tasted before, or after our time in Pondicherry. It was something different and new and enjoyed by all.
Soon after our arrival in this town, there was a fancy dress party for the children, held in the club. Just to introduce the children to the club, I had Viji, a six-year old, dressed as a South Indian bride,
and Bala, a ten year old then as a bridegroom. Raji was dressed as a gypsy girl. The costumes were a success, and appreciated by all.

Later on there was a fancy dress party for the adults as well, and Babuji and I took part. I was a Malayali woman and wore the traditional white mundu - neriyathu, and Babuji was a Reddiar, with diamond earrings sparkling in his ears.











On the last Saturday of every month, the club used to organise a dinner- dance party which was well attended from the Chief Commissioner downwards. Ninety nine percent of the club members were non-vegetarians. On Saturdays they refrained from non- vegetarian food. Hence accordingly, the dinner used to be announced only after midnight. The music and the dance, starting from 9 pm or 9.30 pm went on into the small hours of the next day.

Though neither of us danced, Babuji and I used to go regularly to listen to the music and watch the others dance. One couple used to do the rock and roll so well that all the other dancers would move back and give them the whole floor. And this couple, the Squires, used to do full justice to this privilege.

Mr. Kripalani was really surprised when he asked me for a dance once, and I told him that I did not dance. His next question was, “Well, then, do you sing?”
“No.”
“Do you play tennis? Do you play bridge? Do you swim?” were his next questions, to all of which my answer was – “No.”
He was really taken aback, and asked me seriously, “Then how do you manage to survive?”

Mr. Kripalani belonged to the Indian Civil Service cadre, whose members were trained in England in pre-independent years, and these officers were totally anglicized. Well, actually, there are some exceptions to this. And we came to know one of them in Trichy, while we were there for ten months. He was a District Judge there. A Malayali, he was not in the least anglicized, and he and his family were very down-to-earth people. His children and Raji and Bala were good friends, and went to school together. Mr. Kripalani, being a bachelor, and used to his own life-style, could not understand that a housewife with four demanding children and a husband, had plenty of reasons to survive, without any other outside recreations.

What really knocked me out was seeing a whole roasted pig, with a garland round its neck and a nimboo in its mouth as the centrepiece at the non-vegetarian table. Thank goodness I was able to hide my feelings and surprise from showing on my face. I had seen pictures like this in many English magazines, and that saved me.

There was a separate table for the vegetarians – “The Grass Eaters” we were called. Today’s grass eaters, or, shall I say grass smokers, use a different grass.

The club used to hold dinner dance parties for visiting dignitaries too. There were also magic shows, puppet shows and mono-acting shows. Special Christmas parties for the children were held, too. All told, the club life was enjoyed by everybody. It was a kind of life which we had never experienced before, or after our Pondy life.

In Pondicherry we were one in a hundred. Coming back to Delhi, we were just one in a million.

DINNERS AND MUSIC

After that first sit down dinner that I experienced on our first day (official day) in Pondicherry, I found that it was only the first of its kind. In the five and odd years we were in Pondicherry, there were more and more to follow. Not only were there sit down dinners, there were also buffet dinners, sit-down lunches, garden parties, tea parties and more - Babuji and I learnt to take this in our stride.

All the dinners hosted by the Chief Commissioners usually ended with songs from the guests. Mr. J. L. Kripalani, the then Chief Commissioner, was a music lover. His dinner parties at the Government House ended with a song either from Saroja or from Loknath Bhattacharya. Saroja’s ‘Katriniley Varum Geetham’ was Mr. Kripalani’s favourite. Mr. Bhattacharya was good with patriotic songs and also light Bengali songs. Astir was good with Hindi classical and light music. Her rendition of K. L. Saigal’s ‘Babul Mora’ was enjoyed by one and all. Even after 50 odd years, that song still haunts me the way Astir sang it.(See picture: Mr. Kriplani on the left with Babuji (right) and a friend.)

Bhattacharya had a good clear and loud voice, and he was very proud of his voice and singing. Here I have to tell you about a dinner at the Government House concerning Bhattacharya and his songs. Once when Mr. C. D. Deshmukh the then Finance Minister and his wife Mrs. Durgabai Deshmukh, then the Social Welfare Minister, came to Pondicherry on an official visit. Mr. Kripalani hosted a dinner for them, and he had invited the top ten officials with their wives to it. We were all seated at four or five tables with six persons to a table. I was seated at the table where Mrs. Deshmukh was siting. She was a very considerate lady with no frills attached, and carried on a conversation with all of us at her table with ease. The dinner, a five course one, with red or white wine for each course, was being enjoyed by everybody. As we were waiting for the last course, the sweet dish and the fruits, Mr. Kripalani requested Mr. Bhattacharya for a song. The young man promptly stood up and started singing the national anthem, ‘Jana Gana Mana’.

The chief guests stood up, and so also the rest of us. When the national anthem ended, the chief guest walked away from the table, the rest of us following them. We were all deprived of the sweet dish for which the Government House chef was very famous. We were sure that Mr. Kripalani gave Mr. Bhattacharya a good and lashing piece of his mind the next day.

While writing the above, I am reminded of two other dinners. When a Minister of State from Delhi visited Pondicherry, she was hosted a dinner by the local ministers, officers and their wives. Though we the ladies were all introduced to her, she never bothered to acknowledge our presence.

Throughout the buffet dinner, she moved among the men folk busy carrying on a conversation with them. Not only that, she commented the ladies could not think or talk about anything other than saris and jewels, and that is why the ladies kept to themselves. The men folk later mentioned this to us. The Honourable Minister forgot that she also belonged to the same species as we! (That is me on the left in the picture above.)

The second dinner I mentioned was the dinner we had on our last night in Pondicherry. Since we were leaving the place, there was a deluge of farewell parties, starting from breakfast, sometimes two on the same day, lunch, coffee or tea get-togethers, everyday for two weeks. One couple requested us specially to reserve the last evening for them, as they had planned to give us a grand party, which we could not forget so easily.

I reserved my best sari for that evening. And on that evening dressed in our best, we were really surprised when we walked into their drawing room, there was pin-drop silence – for nobody was there, not even the host or hostess. Since Babuji was one for punctuality, I started blaming him saying we must have come too early. But I was wrong. After a few minutes the host and the hostess came in, offering no apology. And no drinks.

They took us straight to the dining table, and treated us to a dal roti dinner. If this was a ‘grand party’, I wondered what a simple dinner would have been like!

CHANGED LIFESTYLE

As I said before, we had a happy and busy life in Pondicherry. Our outlook on life also started changing and this life was very different from our Delhi life, where we had our set group of friends and we were happy interacting with them.

Here, in the new life, we were always in touch with a cosmopolitan set of people from all walks of life – not only from different parts of India, but from different parts of other nations, too. Our life also became busy with luncheon gatherings, tea and dinner parties.

We had been in Trichy, Chingleput and Saidapet for a period of two years where Babuji underwent administrative training. Life in these places was also different from the Delhi life, but it was nothing like life in this new place.

Talking of dinner parties, I have to tell you about our first get-together. On the very day Babuji took charge of his post, we were invited to a sit-down dinner hosted by the Rotary Club.

‘SIT –DOWN’ dinner! I was aghast!!

I was full of fear and apprehension. It was the first of its kind we were invited to. Though I knew how to use cutlery in an off-hand manner, at a sit-down dinner one had to use the correct spoon, fork and knife for each course. And I was very ignorant of these things.

To add to my confusion, Babuji was seated at another table, while I was seated at the centre table, at the head of which sat the Chief Commissioner – the head of the state. Thank God I did not show my fear or nervousness on my face. As soon as we were seated, I started a conversation with the lady sitting next to me. When the food started coming, one after another (and it was a five-course dinner), I waited till the lady next to me picked up her spoon and fork. I followed her example and the day was saved for me – the ordeal over.

Later in life, more than three decades after, Gowri and Mohan, with Parvati, took me out to lunch at a famous restaurant. I was amazed at the way Parvati, a three-year-old kid, handled the food with her knife, fork and spoon so deftly. Thanks to the tea garden culture she was growing up in.

MOVING IN

Pondicherry, or Puthucherry , as it is known today is very different from what it was some fifty years ago. I last went to Pondicherry with Gowri, Mohan and Raja in 2002.
Gowri was keen to see the place of her birth. She was born there and we left Pondicherry when she was not even six months old.

Babuji was on deputation there from June 1957 to November 1963. We were there during the de facto, or de jure, period, and when the French influence was very strong still.

At the time, the town was divided into two parts by a canal that ran across it from about a kilometre west of the sea. The east side was known as the white town where the Head of the State - the Chief Commissioner, and other top officials lived and worked. The Cercle de Pondicherry, St. Joseph de Cluny High School and the Medical College were also housed there.

A major part was occupied by the Sri Aurobindo Ashram and its inmates, its shops and its school.

The west side of the canal was called the Black Town where the local people lived, and where the markets and shops were situated. Most of the local people were Creoles who worked for the French Government, and they spoke French as well as any Frenchman. The French influence was very much in evidence.

This was how we saw the place when we went there. The sea and the beach, though it was an apology of a beach, captivated me, particularly the sea. From our terrace the sea, with the ships moving far away on the horizon and the deep blue green waters, looked like a huge picture post card.

We were given a bungalow in Rue de Rangapillai, which housed the Development office, of which Babuji was posted as Secretary. Our living quarters were on the first floor. It was a really big house built by the French in real colonial style. The dining-cum-living room was so big it could have housed a large flat of today.

The day we moved in, one of the officials working in the department advised us to keep one of the north side doors on this big room closed, and never to open it at any time. The reason given was that previous occupants had felt that this doorway was haunted, and many apparitions had been seen there by many.

Babuji’s immediate reaction to that was to ask me to have my ‘pooja’ set up by that doorway and to never ever keep that door closed, not even at night. We were in that house for more than six years and we never saw any ghosts or apparitions. Rather, we had a happy and busy life there.

More to follow. . .