‘My daddy, His Highness, the Maharaja of Mysore’

Deccan Herald has an interesting feature today to mark Father’s Day. Four people of impeccable pedigree have been called upon to remember their dads, and among those walking down memory lane is Meenakshi Devi, the daughter of the erstwhile Maharaja of Mysore, Jayachamaraja Wodeyar.

***

“The word ‘No’ was never there for anything with him. He was kind hearted and generous to a fault. As a father, he was one of the best persons in the world. He used to be very fond of all his children. He used to spend time with all of us in spite of his busy schedule.

“The moment I think of my father Jayachamaraja Wadiyar (that is how he used to sign), the last king of Mysore, the image that comes to mind is his tall (over 6 ft), handsome, regal bearing, with a slant when he walked and his goodness. All this and more is true of him.

“We are six children, five daughters and a son to our parents. Gayathri Devi, myself, Srikantadatta Narasimharaja Wadiyar, Kamakshi Devi, Indrakshi Devi and Vishalakshi Devi. As children we all went to the Palace School inside the palace premises itself. Daddy used to discuss various subjects when we were studying in school and college. His favourite subject was history.

“Though we had a sheltered life in the palace, Daddy brought us up the same way any father would bring up his children.

“Whenever my mother went to Bangalore, Daddy would spend a lot of time with us. He would take us all to Chamundi hill in the yellow and red sports Rolls Royce car, which he himself would drive. Of course we also had a Daimler and Austin Prince.

“The other special moments that I can recall is when I used to ride piggyback on him as a child.

“He never discriminated between us children. He got us to learn horse riding. He always used to take us out shooting when hunting was still allowed. My first experience was a tiger hunt when I was 14-year old. We went to Omkar, a favourite hunting place of my father which lies between Begur and Kakanakote forest range. I shot a spotted deer with Daddy’s supervision.

“Another time we had gone to the Kakanakote forest. I had a camera in my hand. I suddenly spotted a tusker and I was very excited. My Daddy with his typical sense of humour said, “Enamma, kaielli camera itkondu photone thegithaillavalla”. (What, child, you have a camera in hand and you are not taking a photograph).

“He never scolded any of his children even once. My mother was more strict and she used to cane us once in a way when we became very mischievous. When the privy purses were abolished in 1969, he was very upset though he did not show it.

“My Daddy’s last days were a bit traumatic. The biggest blow for him was the passing away of my elder sister Gayathri Devi of cancer in July 1974. He was not able to take the blow as he was very fond of her. He passed away the same year in September.

“He died in the Bangalore palace. To this day even after 33 years I have not overcome his death because he died at a young age of 55.”

(As told to N. Niranjan Nikam)

***

Also read why Jayant Kaikini‘s father licked him after a bath: He was an atheist till death

20 comments

prathibhanandakumar
17 June 2007 at 1:51 pm

Thanks for posting this. Due to space constraints the write up was edited. Love to post the full write up here.
prathibha

Jayanth Kaikini on Gowrish Kaikini
——————————————-

The earliest memory I have about my father, Gowrish Kaikini, is that, whenever I went to play in the beach I would return home and he used to make me stand on platform and give me a bath and to check if the salt water is totally cleaned he would lick me once to see if I still tasted of salt! If yes he would wash me once more.

I was never ‘scared’ of him, as usually children feel towards their fathers in the conventional way. He was always there for me.

He lived up to the ripe age of 92 and till the end he was an atheist. Some young atheists grow old to become believers. Not my father. I remember, when I went to visit U R Ananatahmurthy when he had a by-pass surgery, he curiously had asked “was your father an atheist till he died?!”. It was an interesting question at an interesting point. Till the end may father never bothered god. He used to say ‘he must be very busy with issues like war, famine etc, why bother him?’ He was an atheist in a place like Gokarna, surrounded by strong believers. (a documentary film on him is aptly titled “Aastikara madhye obba naastika’, meaning an atheist amidst believers.)

He never went dry in terms of creativity. He wrote 56 books and look at the kind of works he has written. He was like Shivaram Karanth. Karanh, S B Joshi, Sriranga and Bendre were his mentors. He worshipped them. S B Joshi was dry intellectual. Bendre was more ‘warm’ creative. My father wanted both. I remember going with him to Dharwad. Both Joshi and Bendre used to fight if we went to the other one’s house first!. My father struggled to balance the two.

Another interesting thing about my parents is that theirs was a love marriage. In those days it was very rare. It was also a late marriage. He married when he was 40 and I was born when he was 45. He married his student. He was teaching her to play the harmonium. My mother said that as he was teaching he held her fingers to guide them on the harmonium. Very romantic!.

He was the first Marxist in Kannada. He wrote the first book on Marxism in Kannada in 1940. It was published by Minchina Balli Prakashana. He wrote several books on the best of the west and east. ‘Paschimada Parthibhe’, ‘Marxvaada’, a science book on Thomas Edison and others. He was interested in anything which would help man to evolve. He had extraordinary expertise in music. He was a scholar in Kannada, Hindi, Marathi, Sanskrit and English.

An example for his selfless service is the way he wrote for Dinakara Desai’s Janasevaka, a literary magazine, published from Ankola. He wrote a political column, a literary column and a comment on news called ‘Vaarada Uppinakai’ under the pen name of Adige Bhatta. He used different names. He wrote literary criticism under the name Vaishvanara. He was the first one to write about Adiga’s ‘Chandemaddale’, when he was a lecturer in Kumta college.
I did not know the significance at that time. In fact I hated literature because the house would always be filled with people who would sit for hours discussing literature. As and when some left others would come and join. There used to be regular demand for tea or coffee. My mother would ask me to find out how many were there and I used to count and tell her. Even after midnight these writers, scholars were not leaving.

Those days, literary sammelanas were events to go with family. Writers would come with their families and I remember going with my parents to several such sammelanas and meet many writers. Collective domesticity existed. Literature is meant for that.

In high school my father was also my teacher at school. There was not much difference at school. He was affectionate and nice to all the students. He did not know money. My mother managed everything. He was a father figure to all. The Halakki tribes used to come to him for all their problems. Very backward. He would pay the fees himself for Halakki boys and girls who wanted to get educated. He really helped hundreds of them get educated.

At any point I felt neglected. But at some point I did feel that all were equal for him, including me. No special treatment for me. Hundreds of students used to come home to get tutored. We were all treated well. It was his philosophy of life and he lived it well.

He was like a councilor for the entire North Karnataka. People would come to him for all and any problem. Those who missed the afternoon bus would come home and stay till the night bus or go the next day even.

He has written foreword and after word to almost all the writers of our district. I used to get irritated for that and tell him about it. He however used to smile and say “he or she has not committed a crime, but is trying to engage in a language activity. First let us welcome a writer into the community. Let him or her write. We will evaluate them later or he or she will find out how they fare on their own and improve” was his argument. I used to criticize him for that then but now after he is dead, I have realized that is a fantastic way to get engaged with the next generation writes, Hence I write foreword and after-word to any new writer who asks me. It is my way of taking on my father’s spirits.

Another peculiar thing was that my mother used to address my father in the singular! In those days it was a very strange thing to do. I always prayed that my mother should not call him in the singular when my friends came home!. As if, there was something wrong in our family. It was very funny. But that shows how they were one to one in those days itself. He always encouraged her to do her own things. When my mother got involved in political activities she would go for meetings and he would cook and take care of me.

My father never came to Bangalore. Once when the sahitya sammelan was held in Bangalore he was invited to participate. But he had earlier agreed to inaugurate a fishing boat of a fisherman in Tadadi. He did not want to go back on his words and refused the sammelan invitation and went to Tadadi to inaugurate the boat!.

When he was sick and admitted into the hospital in Manipal, I stayed with him for six months. Large number of students would come to visit him. We spent some good time there talking. His death came smooth. Mentally I had sent him earlier than his physical end. He has become so much a part of my mind that physical detachment was not complicated when he died. He lives in me

Rate this:

Share your Churumuri

20 comments

Leave a Reply