Those little houses of many mirrors

As one rides away (gracefully one hopes!) into the sunset of life, thoughts come to mind about the manner in which the years have treated one. Certainly, there is much to rejoice about and feel contented. Yes, there is the occasional regret, but nothing compared to the way it has been overweighed by the compensating pleasant events, a wide vista of experiences and a range of sensations; from academic pursuits to professional experiences, through areas such as personal, sports, social, philosophy, culture and religion.

At 3.41 am tomorrow I shall be 75 years old, having been born a premature seventh month delivery baby, in a small house in a narrow lane in a busy part of Madras (now Chennai) having, as its address, 20, Chengalneer Pillayar Kovil Street, Mylapore, Madras. It was in that house that my mother had delivered ten children out whom three survived, my brother Murty, my sister Kalpakam and I. That was the house in which I spent my early childhood and, while casually attending school as a minor pastime, vigourously participated in the activities of Balananda Sangham (a well-known and popular children's organisation that organised cultural activities), and acted in some 28 movies in Telugu, Tamil and Hindi. As part of a trip down memory lane, I went to the house a few years ago, and found it largely unchanged, except that it had been turned into a shop.

I have known many people fortunate enough to have been born, brought up, educated, employed and, finally, retired peacefully and settled down in their old age, in the same State of the country. Some others were lucky enough to do all that in one city and, a very small number of those, in the same house! And I? Thirty houses in five States so far, and, thank God, not counting anymore! I feel confident we have finally settled down.

We have seen, in recent times, how successive Chief Ministers, of the erstwhile Andhra Pradesh State, in earlier years and now of the two Telugu speaking States, have frequently altered the orientation and structure of buildings serving as their residences and offices, largely for alleged reasons of 'Vastu'.

I remember one Chief Minister building an entire new block as he felt that it would be propitious for his tenure and, a few years later, another abandoning that building altogether and moving into the earlier one vacated by his predecessor. I cannot, however, remember how the apparent compliance with the prescriptions of 'Vastu' helped their cause!

I have also seen people affecting major changes to the structures of their dwellings (and, in some cases even their offices!), on the advice of one Pundit or the other in order to overcome the impact of some evil or to propitiate a supernatural power which is expected to bring them prosperity.

All this is not to decry the value of the science of 'Vastu'. Yes, that is what it was originally meant to be – a science. However, superstition, abandonment of common sense and irrational fears and temptations have altered its fundamental prescriptions to the extent of the whole thing becoming a farce. And those who profess to practise it use either as a threat or a lure to make their clients undertake totally unscientific alterations.

Such mindless observation of exaggerated versions of were originally scientific prescriptions abound in such a large number, especially in India (no matter what religion the people belong to), that it is not possible to deal with them here in detail. Suffice it to say that the most well-meaning and rationally designed prescription can be twisted out of shape, thanks to ignorance, fear or temptation and the role of unscrupulous middlemen.

I must mention at this stage that the original number of thirty referring to the house in which I stayed in my life, included many in which I stayed with my parents before I was married.

After Mylapore, we moved to a house in Lloyds Road Madras. One thing that comes to mind about the stay in that house is my dropping nephew Sitaram Yechury on his head (as a 10-month-old baby!), when I was asked to look after him for a little while! I still cannot help wondering how much damage that fall had done him!

It was then that the State of Andhra was formed and the High Court was established at Guntur, while the seat of the government went to Kurnool. And in Guntur where, initially, father was still an advocate, we stayed in a small house in Pattabhipuram Colony, It was there that, one day, I had come into the house to have a snack while my friends were playing cricket. Accidentally, a bottle filled with soda fell down and burst into pieces. One shrapnel went into my foot. My brother-in-law Yechury had to carry me upside down, to prevent the bleeding from becoming excessive, and took me to the hospital to get the wound stitched up. I still carry an ugly scar on my right ankle as a proof to that incident! We then moved to a big bungalow, in a large estate soon after father was elevated as a judge. While staying in that house I learnt the rudiments of raising a kitchen garden and also had my first pet at home, a dog called the Lassie. She had a strange habit of barking only at khaki clad postmen and lady political leaders who came dressed in white!

Very soon thereafter, the new State of Andhra Pradesh was formed and father moved to an official residence at Marredpally in Secunderabad. For quite some time, in the beginning, we had no radio at home. Every Wednesday evening, precisely at 8 PM, I used to walk some distance away to a friend's house to listen to the weekly 'Binaca Geet Mala' compered by the legendary and inimitable Ameen Sayani. New to Hyderabad and its way of life, I had many things to learn, including such fundamental things as having to wear slippers to school! I joined halfway through the 7th standard in Mahbub College High School, Secunderabad. And, I experienced my first slap from a teacher's hand, for failing to recite a poem correctly in Telugu!

After a few months, father moved to a house Gaddiannaram, where he bought a huge mansion of over 10,000 square meters in area, situated in a large farm of over 6 acres. And I shifted to All Saints High School, Hyderabad. We stayed there until 1960 when father retired. I had, by then, finished my schooling and also the Pre-University Course at Nizam College, Hyderabad. One distinct recollection of the stay in that house is the number of fruit bearing trees there were in the compound, and how scary it was to return on foot at night, from a distant bus stop in pitch darkness, and with the rumour of ghosts raging in my head!

Another unforgettable incident was the way I caused an unintentional explosion in chemistry laboratory I used to maintain in a corner of that house. A friend of mine and I were doing an experiment. By mixing hydrochloric acid, with sulphuric acid we produced hydrogen dichloride, which explodes instantaneously on contact with the atmosphere. I still remember how, one moment we were in the lab, and the very next, on the other side of that big house not knowing how we got there!

Father then shifted to Delhi to practise in the Supreme Court and I joined Hindu College to pursue an Honours degree in Mathematics. We stayed in houses in Nizamuddin and Defence Colony. College days were heady and filled with youthful exuberance some interesting experiences relating to which I have described elsewhere in this column. On account of circumstances described in there, and for the first time in my life, I failed to secure a first division in my graduation exam.

(To be continued)

(The writer is former Chief Secretary, Government of

Andhra Pradesh)