Undone by perfidy

When one embarks on a journey called life one hopes for a smooth passage. However, fate has the habit of throwing unexpected obstacles on the way. This is an event that took place a hundred years ago but the cause came to my knowledge only a few weeks back when I came across papers belonging to my grandfather who died at the age of forty nine.

We were told that he died of pneumonia. Another version said he died of injuries sustained when mortar fell on him while supervising the construction of his house. I would like to believe that he died of a broken heart resulting from a major deceit from a close relative.

My great grandfather was a priest, a rather learned one. To honour his prowess in Samaveda, the Pontiff of Sringeri Mutt conferred upon him the title Samaga (the ‘S’ in my name).However, his son had other ideas. He wanted to be in the civil service. He was a brilliant student, generally topping his class. In 1892 armed with a BA degree in English from Central College he joined the government as a Précis Writer & Translator, a clerical job at   Rs 30 per month.

His hard work and diligence paid off and soon he started climbing up the ladder. He passed various civil services exams with flying colours. In 1899 he was promoted to the post of Deputy Amildar and given a privileged posting to the Sringeri Jahgir with additional charge as Chief of Police. In 1898 when the Plague hit regions in Mysore area, he was put in charge of some of the camps. The Plague Commissioner wrote a highly complimentary report about my grandfather’s actions during the crisis. By 1910 he had risen to become an Amildar 2^nd Class.

By now it was generally agreed that my grandfather was on the fast track in his career and his promotion to Assistant Commissioner was just a matter of time. That is where there was a twist in the tale and an ending that that was hugely disappointing, if not tragic.

I came across a letter he wrote in 1912 to the Deputy Commissioner appealing for his promotion to Assistant Commissioner. He wondered why so many of his juniors had superseded him and had been promoted. There was a ring of pathos in each sentence as my grandfather mentioned all the testimonials and commendations he had received from his superiors. He was particularly hurt that he was stuck on the same salary of Rs 200 per month for three years. It was then that an explanation was given.

Unknown to him, a very close relative from his wife’s side had conned people off money by offering them government jobs or contracts using my grandfather’s name. This had gone as a black mark in his confidential report and affected his career.

He was a shattered man after that and died even before his dream home could be completed.