“Chairman Thatha” – Utharakosamangai Relationships – 7
('Thanks to ChatGPT for assisting in the English translation of my original Tamil creations.”)
(Illustration by Usha Bharathi – with thanks)
It was a time, much like today, when youth awakening led to
a peaceful revolution. A time when political power shifted. Students were
actively involved in the anti-Hindi agitations—perhaps the second or third wave
of such protests.
At that time, Hindi was a compulsory subject in his school
as well. Students would gather and march through the streets shouting slogans
like:
“Long live Tamil! Down with Hindi!”
In that village and the surrounding areas, many respected
elders supported this movement. One such person was the village’s Chairman
Thatha. He had a habit of addressing elders as “Thatha” (grandfather). His
own grandfather was also a member of the Panchayat Board, and Chairman Thatha
would respectfully call him “Annae” (elder brother). The two would often be
seen chatting in the Panchayat office.
Occasionally, the Panchayat members would go on trips
together. Every year, they would attend the Katchatheevu festival—traveling by
boat from Rameswaram. On returning, items like Colombo coconut oil and soap
would find their way into their homes.
Chairman Thatha’s younger brother was known for going into
nearby forests with a long rifle, hunting birds, and sharing them with
acquaintances. Birds like herons and wild fowl would come to their house, and
he remembered eating them. In this way, Chairman Thatha was closely connected
to their family.
As mentioned earlier, he was someone who kept himself
well-informed about everything happening in nearby villages. He ensured that no
conflicts arose between villages during games like kabaddi. If there were any
disputes between streets, he would step in, talk to those involved, and resolve
them.
Tall, commanding, and dignified—his very presence commanded
respect. People would stand up as soon as they saw him.
He maintained order in the village—resolving disputes,
maintaining friendships with neighboring villages, and serving as Panchayat
Chairman year after year without opposition. He organized village festivals,
managed funds, oversaw sanitation, and took care of water bodies like tanks and
ponds. He kept the village disciplined.
Near his house, he ran a small reading room. Newspapers like
Dina Thanthi, along with weekly and monthly magazines, were available
there. Through these, many powerful Tamil writings reached young minds. It was
during this time that the boy developed a strong interest in Tamil and began
writing poetry. A deep sense of linguistic identity was spreading among
students.
Meanwhile, Hindi classes continued in school as a compulsory
subject. There was even a Hindi teacher. But outside, the anti-Hindi agitation
was at its peak, influencing political change through elections.
During that time, he too joined his friends in protest
marches through the streets, shouting slogans against Hindi. Chairman Thatha
would watch all this with quiet approval.
But one day, they crossed a line.
About ten students, including him, decided to go five
kilometers away to the Utharakosamangai railway station and erase the Hindi
nameboards using tar. Carrying tar cans, they set off along the mud road,
shouting slogans enthusiastically. Passersby watched and laughed, not knowing
what the boys were planning.
At that time, tar drums and stones were piled along the road
for upcoming road construction. The boys took some tar cans from there.
It was midday—no buses, no traffic. Only their voices echoed
on the road.
Suddenly, a van passed them and stopped ahead. A group of
elders got down…
and began throwing stones at them.
Unable to withstand the attack, the boys scattered and ran
into nearby fields, eventually reaching home.
Those elders were none other than Chairman Thatha and his
Panchayat members.
He had tolerated their protests within the village. But
going outside and attempting vandalism at the railway station—that was
unacceptable to him.
At home, he received a stern scolding from his grandfather
and stayed indoors the rest of the day.
The next morning, while walking to the village tank, he saw
Chairman Thatha sitting in a tea shop. Seeing him, he said:
“Hey boy… are you going to destroy Hindi?
What if the police catch you?
What will happen to your family?
Your grandfather wants you to study… how much pain it would cause him!
Your whole life could be ruined… do you understand?
That’s why we stopped you like that.”
It was said with both firmness and affection.
He simply replied, “Yes, Thatha,” and went along with his
friends to bathe.
After that day, he never participated in the anti-Hindi
protests again. After the elections and change in government, Hindi became an
optional subject—and he chose not to study it.
Ironically, later in life, after joining a bank, he studied
Hindi for incentives, watched Hindi films in Jodhpur, sang Hindi songs with
friends, and even performed Hindi songs on Smule.
The very Chairman Thatha who had kindled linguistic pride
through his reading room was also the one who guided students away from
violence and ensured they stayed focused on education.
In those days, every village had such strong elders—leaders
who maintained order, prevented conflicts, and protected their people.
Chairman Thatha was one such figure—
a guardian… almost like a king of the village.
Years later, when he visited Utharakosamangai with his wife,
they went near Chairman Thatha’s house. It was locked—still standing,
unchanged, with its old structure and iron gate.
His daughter had been his classmate. When he inquired, he
was told she was nearby, at her daughter’s house.
“Shall we go see her?” his wife asked.
He paused… and said,
“No.”
And they turned back.
– Nagendra Bharathi
My Poems/Stories/Articles in Tamil and English
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