#7 - When Paru Kutty Became Jayalaksmi

When I sat down to write this post about my grandmother, Jayalakshmi, I realized very little has ever been said about her. Despite her being an integral part of my grandfather's life for nearly six decades, even Wikipedia hasn't credited her as his wife. Surprisingly, the names of my father and my aunts have been mentioned. Why? Is it because a woman's role is that dismissive in our patriarchal society? Or are star wives used to living in the shadows of their superstar partner? 

Whatever be the reason, it was time to put that behind me and introduce Jayamma to the world. My grandfather's maternal uncle (mama) had nine children—five girls and four boys—and my grandmother was the eldest. Daughter of a Sanskrit Pandit, she was well versed with Sanskrit since her childhood. She was named Parvathy, in loving memory of the sister her father had lost. When I spoke to my aunt, she told me how her father would affectionately call her as Paaru Kutty. It was only after Parvathy's wedding to SVS that she was named Jayalakshmi.

As a thirteen-year-old child bride who struggled to even converse in Tamil, perhaps, she wasn't the ideal match for the more worldly SVS. Initially! Maybe! But her voracity and her will to embrace and face challenges head on proved she was his equal. 

Although Jayamma had always been passionate about books and reading, she wasn't exactly given the opportunity to continue schooling beyond a few years. Blame it on her huge family and the need for the eldest born to look after her younger siblings. Added to that, she was married off at 13! But did that stop her appetite for learning or storytelling? Not at all! 

First in, she learnt to quickly speak, read, and write Tamil by taking her eldest sister-in-law's aid. She would also spend hours reading classics and epics including Ramayana and Mahabharata in Sanskrit, Malayalam, and later Tamil, recalling the name of each character along with the incident or the background story that surrounded those characters, every single time. All this while managing the demands of a joint family system!

Initially, after their wedding, SVS and Jayamma stayed at his eldest brother's place. Later, they moved to his native, Singanallur. Life went on with SVS trying his luck in theatre on and off. Until 1935, when my eldest aunt, Janaki, was born. This was the year SVS stepped into feature films. 

My grandfather has briefly mentioned about the birth of his firstborn in his autobiography along with his decision to cut back on work after the shooting of his first movie, Menaka, while his young wife recovered from post partum weakness. Eventually, he went back to doing films and theatre with the TKS Group.

After Janaki, my aunts, Lalitha and Shanthi, were subsequently born in Singanallur in early to mid 40s. It was after this time period, with the increasing opportunities in the city, that my grandfather and his family migrated to Madras. They moved to the residence in Royapettah in mid 1947—the house that holds most memories, the ups and downs, and the life story of my grandparents.

In 1948, my father and only son to my grandparents, SVS Kumar, was born in Madras and my last aunt (Gowri) was born in 1950. By this time, SVS was a very busy and popular artist. He was flourishing in the big and small screens, and was already managing the theatre for his friend NSK. 

But this also meant that my grandmother or my aunts could never really spend any quality time with my grandfather. As per my eldest aunt's recollection, as kids, they would hide and watch my grandfather in awe many-a-time. My other aunt, Shanthi, told me in a playful manner that they'd have needed an appointment to meet their father at that time. 

As is the case in any celebrity household, the wife held the fort at home, managing the family and children, while the star husband worked relentlessly. Only, the artist shines in public and gets his due recognition, but the sacrifices made by his family and spouse often remain cloaked. 

Anyway, coming back to my grandmother, she was a very simple, kindhearted woman who rarely spoke unless spoken to. Not one to sit idle or waste time, she learnt cooking and soon was an expert in traditional South Indian cuisine. Cooking for forty to fifty members was a routine for her; one that she undertook without any complaint or discontent. In fact, her rasam was so mouthwateringly famous that people who've tasted it relish the delicious, lingering memories till date.

Whoever knew Jayamma would testify that she'd enter the kitchen early morning every day and tirelessly serve everyone around her in her own quiet and dignified manner. Clad in a simple nine yards saree with minimal jewelry, she was one of the best examples of 'simple living high thinking'. 

She was also the epitome of motherhood; be it her younger siblings or her brother-in-law's children who lost their birth mother when they were very young, she seamlessly transformed into a mother for all of them. Together with SVS, the couple selflessly took care of both sides of the family with immense love and dedication.

Jayamma was also a keen participant of religious discourses including those delivered by Anantharama Dikshithir, Embar Vijaya Raghavachriyar, Vaariyar, amongst others. She often used to attend these discourses with her sisters-in-law or brothers-in-law, and coming back home, she'd recount every detail of the discourse with the nuances.

With her innate storytelling ability, did she give regular feedback to SVS? Well, yes and no! Yes, only if my grandfather asked her for her opinion. Else, she'd silently work behind the scenes, taking care of SVS, his family by blood, as well as his artistic family.

Her affection for the other artists and colleagues of SVS was also well known. SVS and Jayamma were affectionately addressed as anna and anni by many artists including SV Subaiah, Pandari Bai, and even Sivaji Ganesan. She'd welcome the Seva Stage artists with open arms and ensured none of them experienced hunger.

In a recent event, Kalaimamani Durai (who was a part of Seva Stage) narrated a very interesting incident. Jayamma was once visibly upset; it was the day before Diwali. Financially, my grandfather was facing a difficult time that year, and they didn't have enough to purchase new clothes for all the members of the company. Durai recalled how Jayamma referred to the Seva Stage artists as 'children' while raising the concern about money to SVS.

For his part, SVS promptly went in his van and came back with all the new clothes. When a perplexed Jayamma enquired how he managed it, he immediately replied he'd sold the van. Now tell me, weren't they made for each other in the ways that truly mattered? Their love encompassed all, and their selflessness was a shared vision.

In our family WhatsApp group, when we were talking about our Jayamma paati, each of her grandchildren remembered her warm hugs, her sweet smile, and the fresh fragrance of Cuticura talc after her nocturnal shower. 

When it comes to my personal recollections of Jayamma paati, I'd always remember her reading by our porch. She'd have her evening coffee and immediately proceed to sit on the porch, lost for hours between the pages of yet another book. 

While I write all these as told by my father, aunts, and my extended family, I also remember my grandmother as a strange mix of tradition and forward thinking. 

She was extremely rigid and strict when it came to how women had to behave in a family. Me being the granddaughter (female offspring), she was adamant I should learn cooking and housekeeping skills, while there was no such compulsion for my brother. While this skewed expectation bothered me a lot in my teen years, I now realize it was the direct outcome of her role as the primary caregiver in a patriarchal household.

Yet, when it came to my mother (her daughter-in-law), she was one of the best mothers-in-law a woman could ask for. Right from taking care of my mother when she was sick to cooking for the entire family until she was in her seventies, she was a very loving and giving person. She rarely (never, if I'm right) criticized my mother or uttered a harsh word while addressing her.

In fact, my elder brother was born after eight years of wedlock for my parents. Yet, there hasn't been a single day where she's made my mother feel uncomfortable or lacking. I am talking about the 70's where one of the foremost expectations of a daughter-in-law/woman was to provide a heir to the family. My respect for her increased leaps and bounds when I myself became a daughter-in-law; I realized how generous and wonderful she'd been to my mother.

SVS believed and spread women empowerment through his art while his wife lived that in her life. Perhaps they weren't the expressive couple who were outwardly in love or who spent hours talking, but Jayamma was certainly the perfect match to SVS. From being best friends with his sisters to being that wise mother figure for all, Jayamma was a perfect rose—gentle, graceful, delicate, fragrant, and loving!

Seen below is a picture of my grandmother in her 70s:

#6 - A Match Made in Heaven!

In continuation of my previous post, SVS was sort of forced to return home due to the uncertainties that surrounded his stage career. A call from his family further lured him home. Seeing how a fixed salary was nearly impossible in theatre, SVS once again decided to hunt for a job that would pay him a decent salary every month.

And that's how he first joined a soap company as a sales man before moving to a coffee plant for work through the recommendation of his brother's father-in-law, who worked as the head accountant in Stanes Company. This opportunity gave SVS some insights into running a business. Whether it did help him run his own troupe later, I'm not entirely sure. But it did bring in a monthly salary that SVS wanted at that point in time in his life.

Soon, SVS also managed to get the coveted license, and he subsequently joined his uncle's company (Gowder and Co) as a driver. Ah, the long standing wish of obtaining a license and becoming a driver finally saw light. Simultaneously, SVS also attended several political meetings associated with the Congress party.

When I read about this, I smiled. Although this young man craved a stable job and did manage to obtain it, did he remain content? No! He wanted to push his boundaries to explore more, do better. His passion and keen eye towards art persisted. His patriotism led him to know more about the agenda and the workings of the Congress party which was soaring in the pre-independence era.

With a job in hand, just as SVS thought his life was settling, life threw a curveball at him. His eldest sister, watching SVS go over several jobs, wanted him to settle down in life. Right on cue, their mother's only sibling, mama, visited Singanallur from Kerala to seek a suitable groom for his eldest daughter Jayalakshmi.

Overjoyed at the divine intervention, SVS' sister broached the subject of his marriage with SVS, who clearly wasn't prepared with the idea of settling down with a partner. But his sister didn't relent. She insisted that he had time to settle down since the bride would live with him as man and wife only after a year. She went ahead and gave her word to her uncle, and was determined to get her brother married to her mama's eldest daughter. 

SVS was in a dilemma. On one hand, he did not have a stable job that he enjoyed or where he'd been employed for long. On the other hand, he couldn't act against his eldest sister who was more of a mother figure to him. Finally, SVS grudgingly agreed to let his sister go ahead with her plans. 

The wedding happened in May 1932 in Mangalam—a coastal village in Tirur, Kerala. As per his own recollection, SVS has mentioned that the marriage happened with a lot of grandeur for five whole days. And while coming back after the wedding, the groom and his family were stuck in incessant, heavy rains— a fact which he conveys through the words 'Inbamaana kashtangal' in his autobiography :).

Six months later, as was the custom those days, Jayalakshmi formally came to her husband's place after hitting puberty in October 1932. SVS began his life with his wife in his eldest brother's house in Kovai. 

What began as an unknown journey for the thirteen-year-old Jayalakshmi, later turned out to be her entire world. How the young, barely Tamil-speaking Jayalakshmi later became Jayamma for all us, the queen of the SVS household, is a whole story by itself. One that I will write about in my next post in detail.

Although a lot has been written and spoken about about my grandfather's drama career and his career in movies, very little has been known about my paati— one of the main pillars behind SVS' success. If not for her patience and the ability to loyally run the household, he would not have had the peace nor the space to work without distractions. In turn, my grandfather, too, was loyal to his wife until his last breath.

I knew then that it was vital for me to gather as much as I could, about my grandmother, before presenting those facts in the best way that I could. That's when I started on the journey to speak to my father and my aunts to know more about my grandmother as a mother, as a wife, and as a sister (in-law) starting from the initial days of her marriage. Which resulted in a small, unplanned break in my posts.

But let me assure you, this delay was well deserved, for I utilized this time to pause and interview my immediate and extended family to know more about who my grandparents were when it came to family. What resulted was the emergence of a lot of wonderful memories that I will share with all of you.

Seen here is an image of my grandparents taken during my parents' wedding:

#5 - Back to the Family!

Back on stage through the Rajambal Company, SVS continued to act in her troupe for several months. He acted in various roles with ease, quickly gaining the affection and admiration of his peers in the troupe. So much so, that Rajambal lovingly claimed that although the troupe had lost M.V. Mani, they had gained 'Motor Mani'.

The nickname 'Motor' was because my grandfather was working with the bus service company. Even his colleagues in the bus company were overjoyed at his joining the drama troupe. They felt SVS did the right thing by exploring his passion and talent. 

Despite all this, SVS continued with his job at the bus company at the beginning. He was also keen to get the driving license, unwilling to let go of what could be a valuable skill. When he couldn't get his permanent license the first time he tried, he realized he needed a little more practice. 

As luck would have it, Rajambal Company owned a Chevrolet car; very similar to the one he'd practiced with. That's when SVS decided to join the troupe as a permanent member and make use of the opportunity to practice using the car. He became a member of the company and began to travel with the group in the stage journey.

Here again, his colleagues in the bus company were very supportive and felt it was the right decision on his part. In his autobiography, SVS has mentioned that it felt 'right' when he took up acting full-time once again. Isn't that what every true artist feels? They become one with the art, often dedicating their whole lives and purpose to the art form. Something that SVS too did. Until his last breath!

Anyway, a few months passed by, and SVS became a favorite for Rajambal. With his quick wit and honesty, she knew SVS was someone who could be trusted. And that was the reason why she asked SVS to accompany her to Madurai where she was to take part in the annual festivities.

Reunion with the TKS Brothers:

Once in Madurai, SVS got to know that his old buddies from the Shri Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha were also performing nearby. Overjoyed, he went to meet his friends with whom he'd spent considerable time. 

As soon as the TKS brothers and the other members saw SVS, they welcomed him with complete gusto. A joyful reunion happened, and he was asked to stay back for the night. It was only the next morning that the eldest brother amongst the TKS brothers, Periya Annachi, as he was fondly known, asked SVS to stay back with the troupe and not just for the night.

Why work under a woman? Was Periya Annachi's argument.

When I read this, I was a little disturbed and pleasantly surprised. Disturbed because the field of acting was and is a male-oriented field where a woman was/is naturally expected to take a back seat. 

While it was a different era and the differences were even more pronounced back then, I was also very proud when I realized SVS did not have any reservations to work with Rajambal, whom he refers to as Rajambal Ammaiyaar in his autobiography, addressing her with immense respect.

As the granddaughter of this legend, it warms my heart to know he was a feminist who believed in equality in gender. Especially in an era when the word 'feminism' had little significance. 

Coming back to the story, SVS was in a fix. He couldn't outrightly say no to the same man who was more of an elder brother than a colleague. Yet, SVS did not have the heart to come out of the Rajambal Company without notice. In his heart, he knew it wasn't fair. For Rajambal and her troupe members had treated him with a lot of respect and valued him as an artist.

Annachi, seeing the indecision on SVS' face, ordered SVS to stay back, insisting it was for the best. Simultaneously, NSK dragged SVS to a nearby shop to get him clothes. This sealed the deal for SVS who did long for the company of his friends. The fact that Annachi promised good roles in the newer patriotic plays that the brothers staged also tipped the decision in their favor.

Freedom Movement and Plays:

SVS was again a part of Shri Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha after a brief hiatus. It was the year 1931, and historical plays were slowly being replaced by plays that spotlighted Desa Bhakthi. 

Gandhiji had traveled to London for the Second Round Table Conference. The fight for independence was gaining momentum. Artists and plays began to stage plays and sing songs about freedom, often glorifying the freedom fighters and emphasizing their struggles.

SVS, too, got to play many interesting roles, including the role of Bhagat Singh. After the execution of Bhagat Singh, the masses were in a frenzy. Freedom movements started gaining more popularity and solidarity, and plays that spiked the intensity of patriotic feelings were in demand. 

But the government was aware of the effects of these plays and musicals on the common man. Knowing there was a real danger of art unifying men for a singular purpose, officials began to ban the staging of plays in many places. Unfortunately for the artists and troupes, this meant a slash in their enthusiasm as well as their income.

After trying to run a profitable show and not entirely succeeding, the TKS brothers finally decided to sell a personal property and raise some funds; they wanted to better their craft and the surrounding infrastructure first. By then, SVS was also summoned back by his family. They wanted to meet him and soon.

Realizing it was another break in his acting career, with a heavy heart, SVS returned back home, hoping to hear from the brothers soon; blissfully unaware of what was in store for him back home. Little did he know that his life would take another turn. This time, due to the entry of a person who played a very important part in his life. Jayalakshmi!

Who was Jayalakshmi, also later known as Jayamma? Stay tuned for my upcoming post next week to unravel the details!

#4 - Once An Actor, Always An Actor!

In my previous posts, I had written about the struggles and triumphs that SVS underwent as an upcoming theatre artist. While he continued to act with the TKS brothers and slowly rose up the ranks to perform key roles, there was a slow but steady decline in the funds trickling into the company.

Although theatre is art, in the end, it is still show 'business'. Money matters! From the various towns and cities of Tamil Nadu, SVS traveled along with the troupe, incessantly, from 1926 to 1930. While he was used to the nomadic lifestyle, SVS wasn't completely prepared for the experiences of overseas travel and lifestyle.

Owing to the poor response to the dramas in Tamil Nadu, the drama troupe decided to travel to Colombo in the hopes of better income. From traveling via rail until Dhanushkodi by kneeling to dealing with seasickness during the journey to Colombo, the travel to Sri Lanka was entirely a novel experience for all of them.

Once in Colombo, the plays started and a couple of weeks went by. To the members' delight, the audience loved their plays, but they had to deal with a drunken theatre staff named Mookupuri. Unable to bear the atrocities of the alcoholic Mookupuri, some of the troupe members tied him up after a particularly trying night. They beat him and tied him up, effectively ruining his chance of retaliation. A very livid and vengeful Mookupuri was then freed after some of his men untied him the next morning.

This incident led to a lot of threats and unpleasantness from Mookupuri and his friends. Fed up with the rogue incidents and assessing the risk to his troupe members, the eldest brother, TK Sankaran, decided to wrap up the stay in Colombo and return back to India. The team was thus forced to return despite the good response they'd received from the audience in Colombo.

Once back in Tamil Nadu, by 1930, the theatre business further slid, forcing SVS to return back to his family. After all, it had been four years and he hadn't seen any of his siblings or his father. Coming to a decision, SVS came back to his native, to his family. The reunion with his family was joyful. 

Yet, merely days after his return, SVS understood he had to contribute to the family's finances to ease the burden of his eldest brother. This time, he was determined to get into a salaried job to circumvent the financial woes of being in an unpredictable field.

Knowing he wasn't particularly skilled in any field other than acting, SVS was keen to learn driving. He wanted to get a license and become a driver. But learning to drive wasn't easy, especially not without having a car. That's when SVS joined as a mechanic under Kovai Appavu Pillai. Nearly five months later, he realized the job neither fetched him a great salary nor did he have the opportunity to drive a car. That's when SVS decided to move on from the job.

He went to his sister Krishnammal's place to meet his her and her husband Sundaram Iyer. This was the first time SVS was visiting his younger sister after her marriage. His sister and her family welcomed him with open arms and he decided to stay with them for a while. 

Within days of living with his sister and her family, SVS found out that Sundaram's business partner had a second-hand Chevrolet car. That meant a car to learn driving, right? Well, yes and no. SVS could only manage to snatch limited time to learn driving. A model that wasn't sustainable to obtain a permanent license and make a living out of it.

Sundaram, seeing the plight of his brother-in-law, suggested he seek employment with a Bus Service company his classmate owned. SVS readily agreed and thus started his brief journey as a bus conductor. Have we heard this conductor-to-actor journey elsewhere? :). Anyway, back to the story!

While his rational mind told SVS that he had to earn money and help his family, his heart and soul belonged to the stage. Even during his tenure as a bus conductor, SVS used to watch the local plays whenever time permitted. Don't we say when we aspire something with our heart the universe conspires to make it happen? The same thing happened with SVS when an interesting cascade of events occurred. 

A few months after his joining as a conductor, members from the Rajambal Drama Company happened to travel in the same bus where SVS was working. A known face within the Tamil theatre circle, he was recognized by one of the company members (M.V. Mani) who then introduced SVS to the other company members. 

Further, SVS also happened to watch the 'Rajambal' and 'Manohara' plays by the Rajambal Company, and he immediately recognized his mentor's (Kandaswamy Mudaliyar) work. Observing the actors on stage, SVS recollected his own experiences acting in the very same plays.

The final piece of event that pushed SVS back on stage then occurred. M.V. Mani who had introduced SVS to Rajambal's company had a misunderstanding with the troupe's manager and he abruptly left the company, leaving behind a pair of shoes to fill. 

The very day M.V. Mani left, Smt Rajambal and the other members of the troupe requested SVS to step in. When Rajambal herself requested SVS to act, he couldn't deny her. That evening, SVS donned the role of Rajpriyan in the play Manohara in Naamakkal. SVS' acting was well received by the audience and the troupe members. He was back on stage. Where he truly belonged!

Did SVS stay with the Rajambal Company? Or did go back to the odd jobs? Where did the TKS Brothers fit into all this? Stay tuned to read the next part in the upcoming week!

#3 - When Injustice Becomes Law, Rebellion Becomes Duty!

In my previous post, I had elucidated the struggles and hardships SVS had undergone during his initial years in the troupe. This post is in direct contrast, where I want to talk about the SVS the rebel! 

The famous political activist, Emmeline Pankhurst, once said 'I would rather be a rebel than a slave.' SVS, I believe, was testimony to this quote. Not one to meekly submit to the curveballs that life threw at him, he was ever ready to fight back and stand up for the right causes. At times, this also involved pranking those around him. 

In this post, I want to highlight a few interesting and funny incidents that happened while he was with the Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha. 

On Fridays, after the pooja was done in the troupe, a comb of bananas was usually kept aside for distribution. Something that the troupe manager handled. SVS and his friends looked on as week on week the manager would lock the bananas in the storeroom, often distributing them to the boys only at his will. 

Not one to take it down sitting, SVS sneaked into the storeroom after the pooja was over. Immediately after the manager locked up, he would stealthily pass on the bananas through the window and then ask his friends to let him out once he was done.

Not surprisingly, the case of the missing bananas would be brought up, and SVS would be the first suspect. In his autobiography, my grandfather mentions he would take the punishment unflinchingly, not bothering with the fact that the same friends who ate the fruits would cower away in fright when confronted. 

In another instance, SVS rebelled against the actions of the manager, Kameshwara Iyer, who would quite obviously show favoritism to some artists; Ramaswamy Iyer, in particular. The manager and his favorites would enjoy privileges with respect to food and other comforts while the others were fed what was available. This disparity angered SVS a great deal.

He was of the thought that all deserved equal treatment. In fact, later in his life, he ensured his troupe members and visitors were all treated with respect and equality. My paati (grandmother), Jayamma, would feed sumptuous meals for family members, hungry visitors, and troupe members alike. 

During Avani Avittam—a ritual where brahmins changed the sacred thread—the boys who celebrated this day could order food with vadai and payasam. However, SVS noticed that the manager only took care of his own needs along with Ramaswamy Iyer and did not give SVS the allowance to enjoy his meal. 

Deeply hurt by the manager's actions, SVS went along with Cape and Jolly—his canine friends—to the pond. He applied sandhanam on the dogs' foreheads after bathing them and put on the sacred thread for the animals.

While others around him laughed at his seemingly arrogant and foolish gesture, I can only see the strong affirmation of the young man. If his fellow humans did not treat him right, he would much rather celebrate the day with his furry friends who were loyal and affectionate!

Looking at the dogs and then SVS, NSK asked SVS, "Where is your poonal? Why have you not worn your new one?"

To this, it wasn't SVS who replied, but another friend of his—Govindan Nair. Nair responded, "Naadarindha paapanukku edhuku poonal?"

When I read about this whole incident in the book, I was shook. Here were two young men, not over fifteen or sixteen years of age, who'd made a profound statement through their actions and words. In today's socio-political climate, is this even possible? Would we dare? 

I'd like to narrate one last incident that involved a senior artist called Sundarrama Iyer. SVS has mentioned in his autobiography that Sundarrama Iyer often used to talk ill about NSK which bothered him a great deal. Once, because of a misunderstanding in casting, Sundarrama Iyer also publicly yelled and humiliated SVS. Thanks to the other members of the troupe, the fight was nipped before it could turn ugly.

But SVS did not forget nor did he move on from these incidents. Baiting for the right time, he pounced on the chance when he saw one. The play 'Rajambal' was being staged, and Sundarrama Iyer essayed the role of Neelamegala Sastri. In this role, Iyer had several humorous scenes lined up with the character of a police constable.

SVS, knowing very well what was to come, put on the police officer's costume. When T.N. Sivathanu who was to play the role of the police officer that day asked SVS what was going on, SVS simply asked him to follow his lead.

The play was on, and it was time for the police officers to enter. Usually, it was Sastri who would belittle and scorn at the police officers sarcastically, eliciting laughter from the crowd. However, that day, SVS completely altered the script, cutting Sundarrama Iyer and not allowing him to proceed further with his dialogues.

When Sundarrama Iyer uttered "Do you know who I am?" SVS replied with a "Why should I care who you are? You aren't allowed to speak. Shush!"

Similarly, SVS put Iyer on the spot throughout the interaction, leaving the other artists watching from the sidelines in splits. 

It was after the play that the TKS brothers summoned SVS to explain his actions. Despite being on the hot seat, my grandfather defended his actions with wit and humor. SVS is said to have told the brothers that the audience included several CID members who would have been offended had Iyer spoken scathingly towards the police officers. To prevent such a mishap from occurring, SVS explained he had to alter the scene entirely.

Although the brothers and his friends knew SVS was cooking up a fine story, they let him off the hook with a warning. In his autobiography, my grandfather has also mentioned that the brothers and NSK recalled this incident with laughter many-a-time.

With the ups and the downs and the shared brotherhood, SVS stayed and toured with the troupe for several years until he had to take a hiatus and get back to his family. Why did SVS take a break from acting? What did he do before getting back onstage? What pushed him back on stage? Wait until next week to know all the answers.

#2: Pressure Creates Diamonds, Fire Refines Gold!

Yes, pressure is the factor that morphs a piece of coal into diamonds; but remember, diamonds aren't formed overnight. As was the case with the young SVS who enthusiastically joined the Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha. 

Although, his life took a 360 degree turn after he became a part of the drama company. From waking up at the crack of dawn every day to making do with the limited food that was provided, SVS had to struggle to ease into this new way of life. "Only after a bath was I given idlys," recalls SVS in his autobiography. 

From learning about the basics of drama and stage to running errands for the company, no job was too trivial. Obedience had to be absolute, and failure to comply would incur the wrath of the manager or the tutor. 

In his autobiography, SVS also mentions how he used to look forward to Sundays because it meant an extra meal: snacks and tea! When I read this from the perspective of a thirteen-year-old boy whose every aspect of life was rationed, it broke my heart. The path to success wasn't easy by any means. Of course, this also included the actual lessons that he had to undergo every day.

The first lesson was vocal music. Singing! SVS' first tutor, Sattaam Pillai Veerabhadran, was a very hard taskmaster. It took anywhere between three to six months to get the basics right, and SVS was no exception. 

Veerabhadran caned the boys who dared to sing out of tune or beats. Here again, SVS was no exception. As the days progressed, his thighs were laden with scars and bruises. So much so, that one day, he cried in agony. He pleaded with his master to cane him on the other thigh, hoping it would make the pain bearable. 

I wonder, if this experience contributed to the introduction of playback singing (live) on-stage by SVS, later in his life. Isn't it sheer genius to use the strengths of people who had the right skills instead of harping on their weaknesses? 

Anyway, coming back, once the basic tune and beats set in, SVS along with a group of boys were made to dress up and get on stage for the prayer song that was sung before the commencement of the drama. The tutor would watch the boys with a keen eye from the side lines and did not spare anyone who dared to make an error. Not at all! After the song ended, the tutor would remove the wig from the head of the boy who'd made a mistake. His fist would connect with the boy's head in a sharp knock before the older man placed the wig back.

Music apart, SVS also observed all the plays regularly and thereon he started with a small part after several months. His first play was 'Abhimanyu Sundari' where he essayed the role of Surya Bhagavan. Whilst he started with insignificant roles initially, SVS later went on to play prominent roles for the troupe, gaining the admiration of his mentors and fellow actors.

Once, while staging Ramayanam in Sivagangai, SVS recalls an incident where he was badly hurt. The actor who played Ravanan had to endure nine artificial heads made of tin attached to his head. Feeling lightheaded and dizzy because of the appendages, the actor lost his balance. 

SVS, who had donned the role of Indrajit, rushed forward to help the actor. He recalls how his skin was cut in several places by the tin, causing blood to ooze out of the scratches and cuts.

As I assimilated all these life experiences that my grandfather had undergone, I wondered if this was why he didn't want his own children to become actors. For he knew, once the lights were off, an actor's life was far from glitz and glamour. Trials, criticism, humiliation, and failures contributed to a sizeable chunk of an actor's life. It was no wonder that as a father, SVS wanted his son and daughters to have a peaceful and stable life away from camera and lights.

I must mention here that all wasn't gloomy in his theatre life. It was during these initial years that SVS met some noteworthy people who would later serve as major inspirations in his life. The TKS brothers (especially TK Shanmugam) were one of his first inspirations for acting, dialog delivery, and singing. 

His respect and regards for these stalwarts is evident through his autobiography. Although, SVS laments he could not directly work under Shri Sankardas Swamigal, he was happy that he got to learn and work with the TKS brothers who were the direct protégé of the Father of Indian Theatre.

Shri M Kandhaswamy Mudaliyaar was yet another inspiration in his formative years. At a time when drama was being looked down by the elites of the society, this man made a mark as a director, producer, and writer with his Shakespearean influence and social views. Being very well versed in English plays and movies, Mudaliyaar's refreshing approach and nuances to acting captivated the interest of SVS.

Yet another interesting person who influenced SVS was the Maharaja of Ettaiyapuram. SVS has written about an interesting incident in his autobiography. He vividly recalls seeing the old Raja of Ettaiyapuram, referring to him as 'Thatha Maharaja'. It was this man who summoned the young boys in the troupe to talk to them about vices such as drinking. The Raja spoke about the importance of self-discipline for an artist and showed them the oil painting of Kalyana Ramaiyar who was known for his exemplary conduct.

Staring at the life-size oil painting, SVS imbibed what the Maharaja said, following the older man's advice until his last breath. SVS also mentions the Maharaja's simplicity in his attire as well as his living, a trait that he followed and lived through in his life.

While talking about inspirations, one person who requires a very special mention is Shri N. S. Krishnan (NSK). In many of his interviews as well as his autobiography, SVS speaks fondly about his good friend and mentor, NSK. He has quoted and narrated many incidents and anecdotes about his friend. I would be remiss if I did not write about the beautiful bond and the long-standing professional association of NSK and SVS. Their relationship deserves a separate post! One that I will write soon.

Meanwhile, looking back at the struggles and hardships my grandfather had endured, I cannot help but respect and admire how those difficult times shaped him into a finer human being. Decades later, when he founded his own troupe (Seva Stage), SVS was determined his troupe would be unbiased and upright. A feat he very well achieved! In short, SVS was a visionary who understood and lived this life truth— that art is always bigger than the artist!

#1: Singanallur - Where it All Began...

Sahasranamam, or SVS as he was fondly known, was born on 29th November, 1913 in Singanallur. Born to Singanallur Venkatraman Iyer and Parvathi, SVS was the fifth out of six children. He had two elder brothers, two elder sisters, and one younger sister. 

His parents were especially known for their kindness, empathy, and service to fellow human beings. SVS has quoted in his autobiography that his father used to partake any bonus salary that he received, with others. Day or night, rain or shine, his parents always received a hungry visitor with open arms and ensured the guest was well fed. 

Often, children learn from what parents "do" and how they "behave" rather than what they "say". Likewise, SVS too, perhaps imbibed these qualities from his parents, unconsciously. For he was known for his philanthropy and kindness all through his life. Complete strangers have come up to me in the past to gush about my grandparents' kindness and selflessness.

Coming back to his childhood, in 1918, when the Bombay Flu hit India, unlike many who fled Singanallur, Sahasranamam's parents decided to stay back in their village to serve the sick. A decision which cost a life in his family. His mother's! 

SVS lost his thirty-five-year old mother when he was barely six, in 1919. He recalls, in his autobiography, the unfortunate circumstance where he didn't get to see even the mortal remains of his mother. After that tragic loss, SVS was sent to his uncle's house where he continued his schooling until the year 1926. 

At the age of eleven, SVS started acting in his school plays. He played the part of a Prince in the drama 'Mann Meedhu Kanda Sogam' and received thundering applause for his performance. The echoes of the applause remained in his ears long after the play ended, and this is when his tryst with stage truly began. 

Coincidentally, in 1926, he happened to watch a drama by the TKS Brothers who launched the Madurai Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha. SVS looked in wonder as the boys, not much older than him, performed flawlessly on stage. That's when the burning within him intensified. He too wanted to get on stage, perform, sing, and receive all the accolades.

Never one to give up, SVS promptly sold his English book for a few annas and used this money to run away and join the Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha. This is where he met Kameshwara Iyer— the manager of the troupe. When Kameshwara Iyer looked at the young SVS, he sensed something fishy. "Do you have your parent's written consent or has one of them accompanied you?" Was his first question.

Unperturbed, SVS assured he had written consent from his father and ran to get a full-scale paper to forge his father's signature. Not realizing the manager would verify his claim.

It was thus an unexpected shock to SVS when his father walked in to the drama company within two days of his joining. SVS trembled in his shoes at the fury evident on his father's face. When asked whether he wanted to study, SVS stuttered a reply that he preferred to act instead. 

Venkatramana Iyer scathingly looked at his youngest son before replying 'Un thalaezhuthu pola nadakattum'. I now wonder how the older man would have reacted then had he known his son would later create history in the field of Indian Theatre. 

Although his father left him to fend for himself, his eldest brother who returned from the army, visited the drama company to check on his youngest brother. When his eldest brother wondered how SVS remained in the shadows despite his efforts to search for him, SVS replied with glee that he changed his initials from SV to P.

"Why P?" Asked his brother. 

"P for Pollachi," SVS replied swiftly. 

This time, when this family member let him stay back, it was only after approving his younger brother's choice and wholeheartedly blessing him.  

SV Sahasranamam was now a part of Bala Shanmuganandha Sabha. The journey began!