Scholar's Mate

My father had studied all over the erstwhile Madras Presidency, as his father was in a transferable job in the education department and had retired as the DEO of Malabar District, which was the northern half of the present day Kerala. After his graduation from Loyola College in Madras, my father served in the Defence Account Department in Trivandrum for a short while before joining the Postal Department in Madras from which he retired after donkey’s ears of service.

A little more than a decade before his retirement father had a brain wave. Having grown up and having worked in Madras for almost all his while, as a preparation for his retirement, he decided to seek a transfer to Kerala, much against the advice of our mother and other relatives and friends. He began to be nostalgic and talked about his child hood days in the pristine and salubrious Kerala and his desire to settle down there. When he got the transfer I was in SSLC and my siblings, all much younger, were in smaller classes.

This decision of his completely changed, not only our line and style of education, but our adult lives and probable careers as well, at least in my case.

Fate had made her first move.

He moved to Kerala alone as we were in the middle of our academic sessions. On completion of the session we all joined him at Tellichery where he was posted. Accordingly, I joined Brennen College for my Pre-University (the last batch since the next year onwards Kerala had switched to the plus two system) and my siblings joined a school right opposite our house in their respective classes. By the time we joined him, father had completed about six months in Kerala. By then he seemed to have been disillusioned with the working atmosphere there. The rather relaxed and lackadaisical attitude to the working culture which he was not used to began to affect his sincere and hardworking psyche. He began talking about seeking a transfer back to Madras. Mother, who had objected to his seeking transfer to Kerala in the first place, began to get more vociferous about his vacillation. She was as it is unhappy about the change of tracks in our education which now was to undergo changes again once we got back to Madras. But father felt he wouldn’t be able to hang on in the hartal predominant work culture. So he returned to Madras after just one year of service in Kerala. At that time, we were again in the middle of our academic sessions! So we followed him after six months. Thus we stayed and studied in Kerala, for no reason apparently, for just one academic year.

Apart from mother, I too had protested when he sought the transfer from Madras, initially. You see, my Madras Christian High School and Madras Christian College were part of the same larger organisation. Thus every year the school published a list of students finishing SSLC, who were directly selected for admission to the College. I was fortunate to be one of them. And studying in Christian College was a dream of mine. And the School had given it to me as my right! Those days there was a saying in Madras. It went: “Slaves of Loyola, gentlemen of Christian and rowdies of Pachaiyappa’s”. I wonder why Presidency College didn’t figure. That too was a great college, then. So it was Christian College for me and I tried to put forth my reasoning to the best of my ability, all to no avail. All elders around me were deaf to my pleadings. My staying in the college hostel was ruled out outright and that in effect ruled me out of my dream college.

Whenever I have to embark on a new thing, I seem to do some homework. I think this practice was there in me even as a school boy. While in the final year of school, I had visited Christian College, first taken by our school on a familiarisation trip more like an excursion, and a couple of other times on my own. I had even got their prospectus and had a good look around the campus. Those days, in the 60s, Tambaram, where the College stood was far away (as in FAR) and the surroundings were like a forest! It was a dream location. Being an average student and not strong in some subjects, but strong in some others and with an innate interest in still some others, I had already chosen my Group for the Pre-University, in my own wisdom. It was Philosophy, Psychology and Logic. The choice was not out of the blue. I had been introduced to these subjects, even though inadvertently, by my general readings till then and the early introduction to the puranas and epics by my grandfather. “Tharkasashtra”, one of the great four sashtras, seemed an exciting subject! When I had expressed this to the elders, they all in one voice asked me as to what job I would do after that. I was not clear either. In hindsight, maybe I would have become a journalist, an investigative one or a sports journalist, at that. I had visualised myself, more by the suggestion of the elders (which included relatives), walking around with a jhola (a cloth/jute shoulder bag in propah English) on my shoulders and that didn’t seem a bad idea anyway. Also I had somehow developed a fascination for French, which also I wanted to learn. All that went to nought on my move to Kerala.

While in Brennen College in Tellichery (a well renowned and respectable college then), being petrified of relatives dropping by frequently and asking questions about my academic performance by the yardstick of marks, I put in a little more effort in the department of scoring marks. While in Madras, though there were relatives and others by the dozens, somehow I had felt a kind of obscurity, maybe because they didn’t harass me with unwanted questions and in that obscurity I had basked. That was a luxury I had enjoyed for many years. It was not to be so in Kerala, I knew. Even those who had nothing to do with academics, mine or theirs, were likely to pop questions. I didn’t want them to think that I was academically challenged. In the bargain, I got decent enough marks even in my weakest subject.

Fate had made her second move.

Now, the academic sessions were not in sync between Madras and Kerala. The academic session in Madras had begun and was well on its way, with all admissions closed, when the session in Kerala ended and I got my relevant certificates. I landed back in Madras with those mark sheets which could not dismiss me as merely average. Seeing my marks, one of our close relatives who was the Chief Metallurgical Engineer in Ashok Leyland wanted to make me an Engineer and told my father as much to which my father with no idea of his son’s SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats), gladly agreed. As if anybody can make anyone anything! I vehemently opposed with all my might, my opposition bordering on disrespect and insubordination. I knew my SWOT, though I didn’t know this as an analytical technique then. I was not going to jump into a well just because someone was telling me to. Then he said Okay, then Maths main. No, I said. After prolonged discussions and arguments extending over days, I settled for Physics (a subject I liked) main with Chemistry and Maths as subsidiaries. Where is my PPL and where is this PCM! Though it was pretty late for admission to any college, I was fortunate get admission in Govt Arts College for the said BSc. This was a college I had never heard of, so you can imagine the reputation of that college!

That was the third move by Fate.

Well, three years in the pursuance of my Degree passed with me on the games ground and NCC parades. While in the final year one day the Head of the Department of Physics seeing me in crisp, well starched and pressed NCC uniform asked me; “Why are you wasting your time in NCC in the final year? Are you going to join the Army?” I had not thought about it till then. But to give him an answer, with nary a thought I said, “Yes, Sir”. And then I thought about it. Why not? After all if I said that I was from Arts College to any potential job giver in Madras, I could kiss the opportunity good bye. Army cared two hoots about the reputation of your college. They look at other things.

Those days, it was conceived that one can get a job only with recommendations. I had a couple of relatives including the one I mentioned above who could get me a job. I was against, deadly at that, about getting a job on recommendation. (Also I could kill anyone who offered me dowry in marriage. But that was to be in its own time). These two philosophies were ingrained in me somehow somewhere along. I was not for sale.

On analysing myself and seeking opinion of my friends to corroborate, I applied for the Army. The selection process by God's grace went through like a breeze, even if I say so myself. Pardon me. But I escaped from the lifelong entrapment of someone or other claiming the he made me, what I would become in future.

Fate had made her fourth move.

I keep wondering. If I had joined Christian College, the college being far, far away from home or even if I had stayed in the hostel, would I have taken part in sports and NCC which stood me in good stead in the selection, training and even career in the Army, with the same fervour? Over and above, remember, Christian College was co-ed, whereas Arts College was not. Could I have been distracted having studied in a Boys’ school till then? But then there were many great luminaries in various fields from Christian, as also from our School. They hadn’t got distracted! Would I have applied for the Army at all? How would have Philosophy, Psychology and Logic helped me in the Army? Due to the subjects I was ‘forced’ to take for the Degree, the Army made me an Engineer, which was my father’s wish after all and which made him proud of me (apart from my well meaning uncle)!

In Chess there is a four move checkmate. It is known as Scholar’s Mate. I think I was checkmated thus.