This is an article written by my father, (Late) Shri K V Raja. It is a portrait of his uncle. An uncle that he admired throughout his life. As children, we had heard the stories from my father. Recently, I got hold of an article by him from the magazine Vallabhaksemam. I have done a translation. However much I tried, I could not evoke the same spirit in the English version. For those of you who are interested, I can mail you a photocopy of the original article.

It was 1921, the days of Khilafath and trouble. Erand and Northern Valluvanad were in turmoil. The anti-government strike had turned into looting, murder and mayhem. Seeing the destruction of property and lives, the people began fleeing the land. Confirmed reports indicated that in two days the looters would reach Mankada.

In the meantime, the palace compound had become a refuge for many people. The elders seriously debated on how to handle the situation. There is no way of confronting the troublemakers with force. It was decided not to worry about the property, lives were to be saved at all costs. The decision was to move people into a building near the temple pond and leave open the gates of the palaces. The idea was that probably the looters would be satisfied with the plunder of the palaces and may not search for the people and harm them.

It was the evening about 4 o'clock, two days later, the sounds of the troublemakers were heard in the distance. The women and children after praying to Bhagavathi, with tears in their eyes, moved to the temple pond. The whole palace became silent. Even a fly dared not move. In this midst, one person full of rage waited at the front portico. Though tough and strong, due to his small frame, he appeared small. Self-confidence shone in his eyes. A pistol in each hand, he waited patiently. That was my Uncle.

The troublemakers started arriving in hordes; there were also people from Mankada among them. On seeing the Thampuran at the doorsteps the looters felt uneasy. Uncle raised his voice. "I have two words to tell my countrymen" he thundered. "Do you want money? The granary and the treasury have been unlocked for you. You may take what you want. However, if your idea is to bring outsiders to loot Mankada, then I will oppose it. I have dedicated my life for the people of Mankada. Forgetting yourself, are you bringing outsiders to plunder Mankada? Like rain and wind, these people will leave after destroying. We have to continue our lives in this place. Tell me, is it your intention to make Mankada poor by inviting the outsiders to plunder? Then I ask you to kill me and proceed. Here take these pistols and be quick."

Everybody was tense. Ahmed recalled, "The day my ox had died and I had been unable to buy one, I was starving, it was the Thampuran who helped me". Ali thought "Last year, when I fell off a tree and broke my legs, it was this man who took me to a hospital and saved my life". Kader recalled "That day when I diverted water to my fields, I was nearly killed by the people, but for this noble man". Mohamed thought about the time when his wife died and the gentleman purchased the shroud for her. Each of the persons recalled some incidence of generosity.

The silence was broken in a chorus. "Those thugs will touch you only over our dead bodies!" In this way, wonder of wonders, those who came to kill and plunder became the guards. It was the Mohammedans, who stood guard for the Palace under the leadership of my Uncle, during the riots of 1921.

There are many instances, when Uncle protested against injustice and repression. While studying in college, the Principal sahib ordered that the students must come dressed in formal western dress including a tie and a coat. Excepting a few black sahibs, the rest, under the leadership of Uncle attended in half trousers and vests. They were debarred from classes. The strike continued. In the end, the principal relented and withdrew the order. Thus many parents were saved the high cost of European dress. However, Uncle was expelled from college.

Even seeing small injustice, Uncle would flare up. On one occasion, the family started out on a pilgrimage to Rameshwaram. The elders purchased First Class tickets for themselves and lower class for the rest. Uncle stood firm. Until everyone had a first class ticket, the pilgrimage could not proceed.

Once for a legal matter, we had to go to Ottapalam. We were to go by bullock cart till Perinthalmanna and catch a bus from there. The talkative cart driver informed us that some Harijans had been insulted and branded by some local chieftains. We got off at Perinthalmanna and instead of boarding the bus, we went straight to the police station. Uncle registered a case at the station and made arrangements for emergency measures for dealing with the situation. It was only after this that he enquired about the bus to Ottapalam. That day, though we had some setbacks in the court case due to the delay, the Harijans were never troubled after that.

In a fight between the strong and the weak, Uncle would be on the side of the weak. Due to his speaking out without care for seniority and protocol, Uncle was feared even by elders in the family. If Uncle were determined on any matter, he would rest only after seeing it to the end. I was witness to his determination when he travelled to a village in Andhra in the sultry heat of summer to get a legal paper signed. This was during a time when he was under medical advice of bed-rest due to high blood pressure. He sacrificed his health and comforts for the benefit of others.

Though Uncle did not value his health and comforts, he would become very concerned for others who were even slightly ill and Uncle would transform himself into a doctor. I do not know how, but those rough fingers would become as gentle as a nurse's. There was no difference between a friend and foe. I know of people who even refused to talk to him due to animosity, being looked after by Uncle when they were sick. When the sick and their relatives approached Uncle, they would get peace of mind and inner strength. Uncle's unfailing courage and self-confidence would pass to the patient. I guess, this was the main reason for the cure.

It may surprise many that Uncle, a man of deep interest in public welfare, was also a great thinker. Once we were staying in Ottapalam in a rented house. Uncle would be out all day carrying records and papers on legal matters to courts and return tired in the evening with files of court papers. We would expect him to have dinner and sleep. However, we used to find him siting up till late in the night, reading a thick book. I guessed initially that it would be some legal book. Only when I read the title, did I realise that it was a collection of the works of Shakespeare. I had my first introduction to Shakespeare, Shelley, Keats, Milton and others from Uncle's reasonably large library. Abbot's Napoleon and Vivekananda's Rajayoga were his favourites. Their lives were his ideas. Uncle led his life, doing what was just, without any care for consequences and returns.

There can be no man without any faults. Uncle also had his share of faults. He trusted people blindly. Many of the failures that he had to face were due to the people who took advantage of this trust. It is not surprising that he thought that everyone was truthful and honest like him. If anyone questioned him on this, his reply would be "If anyone cheats me he is the sinner - not me. Suspecting an innocent person of being a cheat is the greatest sin. I will not do it".

Uncle did not have a very good education. He did not have any high public office other than that of a district board member. He was also not famous. Other than a few people in Mankada, no one knew him. However his life was not a failure. If one is steadfast to one's ideals, confronts difficulties with courage and does what is best for others, is that not success?

The people of Mankada, who have risen due to the help and assistance from Uncle, would say that his life was a great victory!