When I was 6, we had a new driver join us, to drive and take care of our Mahendra Jeep. I was in 1st grade and I remember seeing him for the first time when he took my sister and me to school. He was thin and quite tall, his complexion was as black as coal - giving him a sort of pleasingly unambiguous dark appearance. He wore a white shirt and a white veshti. The enduring image of him in my head is of him loosening his veshti, pulling it up nonchalantly and fastening it with a tight knot - all done with a quick-silver dexterity, borne of years of experience. At first glance, there was nothing striking about him, except perhaps that he carried himself with a confidence and pride quite out-of-proportion with his station and physical stature. This characteristic of his earned him the sarcarstic nickname of "King",from my friends.
I remember asking my mother what his name was. "Ramasamy", she replied. At that time, we had other servants in the house for cooking and general housekeeping - Sarasa for our family upstairs and Anthoni for my grand-parents downstairs. Anthoni left afterwards, and so did Sarasa. They were followed by a seemingly endless succession of servants-Ramatha, Devi, Padma, Dhana, Mallika, Mary, Ratna,Vanitha.
But 21 years on, Ramasamy is still going strong...
Not just in his length of service but also in his behaviour, there were noticeable differences from others of his class. He seemed to possess a self-respect and assuredness in himself that was rare. I have never seen him feeling anything less than completely adequate. I remember him once boldly striding into my 60-strong classroom in his simple shirt and veshti, to hand me my lunch ( I had forgotten it at home). When he was impatiently waiting for my friends and me to finish playing cricket in school, so that he could take us back home - he would shout, scream, rant, rave but never plead, beg,beseech...
He had his own code of conduct and within this framework, he had a firm integrity. While alcoholism and smoking is rampant among men of his class, he was free from these habits. We was punctual and very very regular. He seldom asked for holidays, sometimes even reporting for work inspite of illness. He tended to the car like it was his own. He considered the car not so much his office, but his palace! (lending further weight to the King analogy). Of course, he had his own idiosyncracies. He could be moody. Sometimes, he would flatly refuse to drive my mother somewhere. The male-chauvinism inherent in his upbringing probably helped him feel justified in refusing orders from a woman younger than him.
But beneath these apparent marks of disrespect was a complete loyalty. While other servants would behave friendly outwardly, one could never be sure of their sincerity. In contrast, Ramasamy was undemonstrative but when there was an urgent need, we could be sure of his immediate and willing help even at personal cost to himself. Probably, this loyalty sprung out of affection for us. Over the years, it seemed that he identified himself with us - to the extent that he enjoyed our successes and despaired at our failures. When I go home from the UK, I can sense his pride that I am doing well in the UK. When my British brother-in-law first came down to India to ask for my sister's hand in marriage, he also had to pass a thorough evaluation by Ramasamy. I think the relationship Ramasamy shares with our family is an example of how a master-servant relationship can be completely honourable - when it is based on mutual respect and even affection. In a very real sense, Ramasamy is part of the family :)
I remember asking my mother what his name was. "Ramasamy", she replied. At that time, we had other servants in the house for cooking and general housekeeping - Sarasa for our family upstairs and Anthoni for my grand-parents downstairs. Anthoni left afterwards, and so did Sarasa. They were followed by a seemingly endless succession of servants-Ramatha, Devi, Padma, Dhana, Mallika, Mary, Ratna,Vanitha.
But 21 years on, Ramasamy is still going strong...
Not just in his length of service but also in his behaviour, there were noticeable differences from others of his class. He seemed to possess a self-respect and assuredness in himself that was rare. I have never seen him feeling anything less than completely adequate. I remember him once boldly striding into my 60-strong classroom in his simple shirt and veshti, to hand me my lunch ( I had forgotten it at home). When he was impatiently waiting for my friends and me to finish playing cricket in school, so that he could take us back home - he would shout, scream, rant, rave but never plead, beg,beseech...
He had his own code of conduct and within this framework, he had a firm integrity. While alcoholism and smoking is rampant among men of his class, he was free from these habits. We was punctual and very very regular. He seldom asked for holidays, sometimes even reporting for work inspite of illness. He tended to the car like it was his own. He considered the car not so much his office, but his palace! (lending further weight to the King analogy). Of course, he had his own idiosyncracies. He could be moody. Sometimes, he would flatly refuse to drive my mother somewhere. The male-chauvinism inherent in his upbringing probably helped him feel justified in refusing orders from a woman younger than him.
But beneath these apparent marks of disrespect was a complete loyalty. While other servants would behave friendly outwardly, one could never be sure of their sincerity. In contrast, Ramasamy was undemonstrative but when there was an urgent need, we could be sure of his immediate and willing help even at personal cost to himself. Probably, this loyalty sprung out of affection for us. Over the years, it seemed that he identified himself with us - to the extent that he enjoyed our successes and despaired at our failures. When I go home from the UK, I can sense his pride that I am doing well in the UK. When my British brother-in-law first came down to India to ask for my sister's hand in marriage, he also had to pass a thorough evaluation by Ramasamy. I think the relationship Ramasamy shares with our family is an example of how a master-servant relationship can be completely honourable - when it is based on mutual respect and even affection. In a very real sense, Ramasamy is part of the family :)