Bengaluru (Bangalore) 1943 - 1944

I was born in Bangalore (Bengaluru) on 3rd April 1943. I was born at the Vani Vilas Hospital near City Market. I understand that the gynaecologist was Dr. Mrs. George Chandy, the wife of Engineer George Chandy, who was my father's boss in the Mysore Electricity Board.

I was told by my mother that I was quite ill when I was born and suffered from very bad colic. 

I do not know to which house I returned or in which church I was christened. I was given the name Jacob, which was as  a memoriam to my mother's elder brother, K. M. Jacob (Chackochayan) who had died in 1941 at the Chickmagalur Estate. I was told that he had dies of a rat bite, but no one ever confirmed that to me. 

The Matthan's of my father's generation had started a tradition of also giving the children an Indian name besides the Biblical ones. I was given the name Sushil.

My elder sister had been named as Nalini. My elder brother was called Ranjit. They both took their Indian names into the school registration and later into their Indian Passports. I did not, so the name Sushil was only used by my family members and my very close friends.

Soon after my birth my family moved into the house which was constructed by my grandfather for my father on Market Road in Basavangudi. My grandfather also constructed a house on the neighbouring property for my father's younger brother, Matthan Matthan (Babyappapen).

As per those times it was a large house with four bedrooms, a large living cum dining room, a study, a large open verandah on the upper floor, a semi-detached kitchen and rooms for the house help as the cook and the maid. There was very beautiful garden which was put down by my mother and tended by her personally.

The earliest picture of me is the family photograph taken in front of our grandparent's home , known as Grace Home, also in Basavangudi. It was taken in January 1944. I am in my mother's arms on the extreme left with my elder sister, Nalini, sitting in front of our mother. 

Ammachi, Nalini and me - January 1944

Grace Home, Basavangudi, Bangalore

The picture can be dated from the fact that the newest born, Nirmala, is in my grandmother's arms. She was born in December 1943 to my father's younger sister, Mrs. M. M. Thomas (Chinchaya). She was my godmother. My other godparents were my father's elder brother, George Matthan (Langfordappachen) and my mother's elder brother. K. M. Eapen (Eapachayan).

April 1946, Sampige, Basavangudi, Bangalore

January 1947, Sampige, Basavangudi, Bangalore

My earliest recollection of my life at Market Road is an incident that occurred where I was playing alone in the garden as the two elder children, Nalini and Ranjit, had gone to school. I saw a ghastly figure walking down the driveway to our front gate. It was an old lady who was shabbily dressed. 

I looked at her and was frightened by the very sight of her. I cried loudly and ran into the house calling for a knife.

Till this day I cannot understand why I was calling for a knife to defend myself. I had not been exposed to films or any other media which would have influenced my thoughts.

What made me think that a knife was required to defend myself?

As I cried loudly out of fear, I ran into my mother's arms, sobbing. I told her that there was something terrible at the gate. She calmed me down and holding my hand she walked to see what had frightened me. 

That was when I saw the humanity which was in my mother. 

She asked the old lady to sit down on the grass in our garden. She then took me inside the house and brought some water for the lady to wash herself and drench her thirst. In the meantime she went inside and brought some bread and fruits for the lady, which she personally served to the woman. 

My fear vanished when I saw what my mother was doing. After the lady had eaten, my mother brought out some clean clothes which she gave to the lady, packed some more food into a little bundle, into which she put some money, and sent a happy and well  fed old lady back on her way.

That was my first lesson in fear and kindness. Till this day it stands out as the first and foremost incidents in my mind.

The second lesson I learnt from my mother was also in Basavangudi. Both my brother and I were helping her plant some flowers in the garden. I was walking in the flower bed behind my brother who was digging the bed with a pickaxe. As he swung the axe it went straight into the centre of my skull. 

My mother saw what had happened. She did not panic but gathered me quickly into her arms and rushed me into the house where she washed my head of the blood while she kept me calm, talking to me all the time. She had assessed the damage, called the doctor, all the time making sure that neither my brother or I panicked. 

The doctor arrived in a few minutes, assessed that no major damage had occurred, bound my head and my mother put me to bed to sleep it off. I was given a tetanus shot by the doctor.

The speed and coolness that she handled the situation was the second major lesson I learnt from my mother. She did not take it out on my brother in any way - no tongue lashing, no recriminations, just accepting that in this world mistakes do and will happen. 

The third lesson I learnt from my mother was also at Basavangudi in early 1947. 

My father, who was an engineer in the Mysore Electricity Department, had to travel quite often to the power generation centres as Sivasamudram Falls and Jog Falls, which were two hydro power generation centres. The following incident happened when he was away on such a trip.

As my sister, Nalini, was studying Hindi in school, my mother had arranged for a lady to come regularly to the house to teach her the language. 

One night, after we had gone to bed, there was a huge commotion in the garden. There was banging on the front door as we could hear the voices of a mob of people outside calling on my mother to open the door. She double bolted the front and back doors and then went upstairs to the open verandah from where she could see the people massed in our garden. They were shouting for her to hand over a lady they believed was in the house. They claimed she was a Muslim and they had come to take her away.

The lady in question was obviously the one who came to house to teach my sister Hindi.

My mother in a cool calm voice told them that we were only family members present and no other lady lived in the house. They did not believe my mother. They were shouting and trying to break down the front door.

My mother went downstairs and called Sub-Inspector Douglas Wilson of the Bangalore Police on the telephone and apprised him of the situation. Then she called Inspector Chandy, Chief of the Bangalore Police to inform him what was happening. 

Then she went back to the verandah and calmly told the mob that she would waiting for the Police to arrive and the matter could be sorted out then.

As soon as the mob realised that she was not joking, they scooted from the compound into a waiting truck, which whisked them away.

By the time the Police arrived, only the ruins of the garden were left outside. 

Both Sub-Inspector Wilson and Inspector Chandy listened to what my mother had to say and they dispatched the Police to try and track down this mob. They stationed Police Constables at the house to ensure that we were not troubled further.

In the face of a mob, my mother had stood firm and handled the situation in a way which had me in awe of her powerful personality. A third most important lesson I learnt from her before my fourth birthday!

As a result of the last incident, my father arranged to be transferred to Mysore as the Superintendent Engineer of Mysore. This meant he would not have to travel to the various hydro stations. 

This subsequent period is covered in the next entry.