Cherishing a rich past

The photograph shows my father, the late RK Ramanatha Iyer, with his family members, all of whom have settled in Bengaluru. It was taken in 1930 in front of ‘White House’, the then residence of former chief justice Paramashiva Iyer. The house was located in front of Minto Hospital on Albert Victor Road.

My father, initially lived in Tanjore and did his Civil Engineering from Trichy. While  looking for a job, it so happened that his mother spoke to Paramasiva Iyer, who was related to her, and requested him to get my father a job.

Being the chief justice, he spoke to the late Maharaja of Mysuru, Chamarajendra Wadiyar IV, who in turn directed the Diwan of Mysuru to do the needful. My father was then advised to come and settle down in Bengaluru with his maternal uncle Paramasiva Iyer.
   Being new to the City, my uncle guided him and he soon took up a job in the government’s electric department in 1900. 

India was still under the British rule then and since my father was a government employee, he was asked by the chief engineer to come to office wearing either a hat or turban. He preferred a turban and would wear it with a suit to office. During this time, he was posted at Shivanasamudra Falls to work on a survey of Asia’s first hydro-electric power project. There were no roads at the site so the late Maharaja gave him four horses to complete the task. He worked day and night on the survey and under the guidance of M Visvesvaraya, my father completed this Herculean task and submitted it to the chief engineer. He did not get any reward for this achievement but he was allowed to use the Maharaja’s Ooty Palace on holidays. This was the relation the Maharaja had with the engineers working for him during the Mysuru State period. 

In this photo, my mother is standing on the right hand side in a typical Iyer Brahmin dress, and my aunt (mother’s sister) on the left. My father is wearing a turban and my uncle is without one.

My uncle did his MA in Literature from Madras Presidency College and worked at the Ooty Convent, before being promoted as the principal. It was rare for an Indian to head a convent during that time.  In 1945 my father was deputed for official work in Mumbai.
  In the evenings, after coming home from work, he would not relax.

Being a Sanskrit scholar, he used to give lectures on ‘Bhagavad Gita’ to his neighbours and relatives.

During this time one evening, he had a massive heart attack and nothing could be done to revive him. We received a telegram from Mumbai informing us about his demise. We had a tough time after this as no relative came to help us.

Now, when I look back, I recollect those days when we stayed with Paramasiva Iyer at the White House (which has been demolished now) and think of the golden days of the family.

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