CHAPTER ONE
BIRTH, PARENTAGE AND EARLY
ENVIRONMENT
My father, Janakinath Bose, had migrated to Orissa
in the eighties of the last century and had settled down at Cuttack as a
lawyer. There I was born on Saturday, the 23rd January, 1897. My father
was descended from the Boses of Mahinagar, while my mother, Prabhabati (or
rather Prabha-
vati) belonged to the family of the Dutts of Hatkhola. I was the sixth son
and the ninth child of my parents. In these days of rapid communication, a
night’s jour- ney by train southwards along the eastern coast takes one
from Calcutta to Cuttack and on the way there is neither
adventure nor romance. But things were not quite the same
sixty years ago. One had to go either by cart and encounter
thieves and robbers on the road, or by sea and brave the
wrath of the winds and the waves. Since it was safer to trust
in God than in brother man, it was more common to travel
by boat. Sea-going vessels would carry passengers up to
Chandbali where transhipmcnt would take place and from
Chandbali steamers would get to Cuttack through a number
of rivers and canals. The description I used to hear from my mother since
childhood of the rolling and pitching and the
accompanying discomfort during the voyage would leave no
desire in me to undergo such an experience. At a time when
distances were long and journey by no means safe, my fa-
ther must have had plenty of pluck to leave his village home
and go far away in search of a career. Fortune favours the
brave evenin civil life and, by the time I was born, my father
had already made a position for himself and was almost at
the top of the legal profession in his new domicile.
Though a comparatively small town with a population
in the neighbourhood of 20,000, Cuttack I had an impor-
tance of its own owing to a variety of factors. It had an un-
broken tradition since the days of the early Hindu Kings of
Kalinga. It was dc facto capital of Orissa which could boast
of such a famous place of pilgrimage as Puri (or Jagannath)
and such glorious artrclics as those of Konarak, Bhuvane-
swar, and Udaigiri. It was the headquarters not only for the
British administration in Orissa, but also for the numerous
ruling chiefs in that province. Altogether, Cuttack afforded a
healthy environment for a growing child, and it had some of
the virtues of both city and country life.
Ours was not a rich, but what might be regarded as a
well—to-do, middle-class family. Naturally, I had no per-
sonal experience of what want and poverty meant and had
no occasion to develop those traits of selfishness, greed, and
the rest which are sometimes the unwelcome heritage of
indigent circumstances in one’s early life. At the same time,
there was not that luxury and lavishness in our home which
has been the ruin of so many promising but pampered
young souls or has helped to foster a supereilious, high-
brow mentality in them. In fact, considering their worldly
means, my parents alwayserred——and, I daresay, rightly
too—on the side of simplicity in the upbringing of their
children.
The earliest recollection I have of myself is that I
used to feel like a thoroughly insignificant being. My par-
ents awed me to a degree. My father usually had a cloak of
reserve round him and kept his children at a distance. What
with his professional work and what with his public duties,
he did not have much time for his family. The time he could
spare was naturally divided among his numerous sons and
daughters. The youngest child did, of course, come in for an
extra dose of fondling, but an addition to the family would
soon rob it of its title to special favour. And for the grown-
ups it was difficult to discern whom father loved more, so
strictly impartial he appeared to be, whatever his inner
feelings might have been. And my mother? Though she was
more humane and it was not impossible at times to detect
her bias, she was also held in awe by most of her children.
No doubt she ruled the roost and, where family affairs were
concerned, hers was usually the last word. She had a strong
will, and, when one added to that a keen sense of reality
and sound common-sense, it is easy to understand how she
could dominate the domestic scene. In spite of all the re-
spect I cherished for my parents since my early years, I did
yearn for a more intimate contact with them and could not
help envying those children who were lucky enough to be
on friendly terms with their parents. This desire presumably
arose out of a sensitive and emotional temperament.
But to be overawed by my parents was not the only
tragedy. The presence of so many elder brothers and sis-
ters seemed to relegate me into utter insignificance. That
was perhaps all to the good. I started life with a sense of
diffidence—with a feeling that I should live upto the level
already attained by those who had preceded me. For good
or for ill, I was free from overconfidence or coeksurencss.
I lacked innate genius but had no tendency to shirk hard
work. I had, I believe, a subconscious feeling that for medio-
cre men industry and good behaviour are the sole passports
to success.
To be a member of a large family is, in many ways, a
drawback. One does not get the individual attention which
is often necessary in childhood. Moreover, one is lost in a
crowd as it were, and the growth of personality suffers in
consequence. On the other hand, one develops sociability
and overcomes self-centredness and angularity. From in-
fancy I was accustomed to living not merely in the midst of
a large number of sisters and brothers, but also with uncles
and cousins. The denotation of the word ‘family’ was there-
fore automatically enlarged. What is more, our house had
always an open door for distant relatives hailing from our
ancestral village. And, in accordance with a long-standing
Indian custom, any visitors to the town of Cuttack who
bore the stamp of respectability could—with or without an
introduction — drive to our house and expect to be put up
there. Where the hotel—system is not so much in vogue and
decent hotels are lacking, society has some how to provide
for a social need.
The largeness of our household was due not merely to
the size of the family, but to the number of dependants and
servants as well——and to the representatives of the animal
world-—cows, horses, goats, sheep, deer, peacock, birds,
mongoose, etc. The servants were an institution by them-
selves and formed an integral part of the household. Most of
them had been in service long before I was born and some
of them (e.g. the oldest maid-servant) were held in respect
by all of us2
Com mercialism had not then permeated and
distorted human relationship; so there was considerable
attachment between our servants and ourselves. This early
experience shaped my subsequent mental attitude towards
servants as a class.
Though the family environment naturally helped to
broaden my mind, it could not, nevertheless, rid me of that
shy reserve which was to haunt me for years later and which
I doubt if I have yet been able to shake off. Perhaps I was
and still remain an introvert.
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