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My Father - I remember
It was only recently that after a number of years I had the opportunity to visit Dharwad, - where I was born and where I spent the early years of my childhood. The occasion was the centenary of my father, Sriranga. It was a sentimental journey to a town that reminded me of all that my young days stood for. I felt grateful to the organizers for having invited me for something that was very close to my heart. It was to me a matter of great pride to come to the place where we lived, where I was born and I considered myself even more privileged to be in this town to pay tribute to this great man of letters, a complete theatre person, a man much ahead of his times, an activist in the real sense of the term and a person who incidentally happened to be my father – Adya Rangacharya, R.V.Jagirdar, Sriranga – call him by any name.
Here, let me also confess that we as a family perhaps did not recognize any of these qualities. To us children he was always a father, who scolded us when needed, but pampered us also in his own way. To my mother he was her companion, partner and husband with whom she had her usual share of fights! That he made Dharwad his home was perhaps an accident. Family circumstances and job opportunities brought him to Dharwad. Probably if his family had welcomed him on his return, he may not have thought beyond Bijapur. That is how it was here that we lived and it was here that my sister, my brother and I spent our entire childhood.
That my father was a rebel has been much written about. True to this, he married my mother, a Maharashtrian from an aristocratic sardar family of Chandrachuds from Pune. When they were married, my mother had never heard Kannada being spoken. Being educated in Pune, my father knew Marathi just enough to converse, but their main language of communication was English. I am not sure whether till the very end, my parents spoke the same language, but I am sure and I know that they had a perfect understanding. Today when I look back, I also realize that my grandfather – my mother’s father was equally a rebel. No one in his senses would have got his favorite daughter married to a man with no future to talk about and tolerated him when he said, “I want no dowry, please do not give my future wife anything”. We were told how during the ceremony when the priest told him to put his right foot forward, he put his left foot out first! This was the man who was our father. With such a father could we have a normal upbringing? Very often we resented his methods, but today we know we are richer by all this.
What are the memories of this town where I was born? Today, I associate it with my childhood, my schooling at first at St. Josephs School followed by a short stint at the Basel Mission Girls School. We lived in a number of houses all rented. I don’t have any personal memories, but I have heard a lot about our house in Malmaddi, the first house my father lived in, where he brought his bride. It was the house where my sister and I were born. From there we moved on. I remember a house near the post office and before that a house where my brother was born. But the memories I still have and cherish is that of our bungalow near Karnatak College. It was an official accommodation and my sister and I were at that age – when life was one fairy tale with the “all lived together happily ever after” ending. It was in this very house that I remember all the professors of Karnatak College who were intellectual giants - Prof. Menezes, C.D.Deshpande, Gideon, Savanur, Alimchandani, Malwad. I remember all the friends of my father in Dharwad – H.S.Patil. Neglur, Melligatti, and many others. How can I forget all our childhood friends who were our playmates and constant companions? Karnatak College was to us a second home. The huge grounds, the staircases, the steps were just what we needed to play our make believe games. It was the center for our adventure thrills. Avid readers of Enid Blyton, we had make-believe games wherein we literally lived through all the thrills and adventures. Sometimes they were so real and eerie that we shivered in fright!
