Treasured Years

In Service Of Freedom

9/24/2019

Unveiling Ceremony of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Bust

Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Indian Cultural Centre
High Commission of India Kuala Lumpur

Saturday, 18th June 2016 :
Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Indian Cultural Centre , High Commission of India Kuala Lumpur has organised the Unveiling Ceremony of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose Bust on Saturday, 18th. June, 2016 at its premises in
Menara Sentral Vista ,
Level 17-2 & 17-3A ,
No 150 Jalan Sultan Abdul Samad ,
50470 Brickfields, Kuala Lumpur

This event was a memorable and unique one as the High Commission of India , Kuala Lumpur has specially invited Indian National Army (INA) Veterans of Malaysia for the event.

During the event, the INA Veterans of Malaysia have unveiled the bust of Netaji Subhash Chandra Bose. The High Commissioner of India to Malaysia, H.E. T.S.Tirumurti has honoured the INA veterans.

Datuk R.N. Rasammah Bhupalan, Tan Sri K.R.Soma Sundaram and Dato Saroja Dev Param have also delivered a short speech and shared their valuable experiences during their time with INA.
CLICK FOR LINK TO ORIGINAL ARTICLE:
https://www.icckl.com.my/photo_18june2016_1.html

Veterans Honoured For Their Service To Freedom

Dato Saroja Dev Param Addressing The Gathering

Dato Saroja Dev Param, Datuk R.N. Rasammah Bhupalan & Tan Sri K.R.Soma Sundaram
(Left to Right)

The High Commissioner of India to Malaysia, H.E. T.S.Tirumurti presenting
Dato Saroja Dev Param with a commemorative memento

BALAK-E-HIND
Organ of Balak Sena
Dato Saroja Dev Param as a youth in 1940s Malaya contributed articles
under her maiden name Saroja Bala Dev

Documentary chronicles accounted for the first time by Malaysian
veterans in Netaji’s INA and Jhansi ki Rani Regiment
January 25, 2022 news
... INA veteran Dato Saroja Dev Param recalled the time when Netaji addressed a large gathering in Seremban, a city in Malaysia. “It had illuminated the whole country so everyone was moving in the same direction which is freedom for India.” ...

Link To Article

First-ever documentary chronicles accounts by Malaysian
veterans in Netaji’s INA and its Rani of Jhansi regiment
YOSHITA SINGH
24 January, 2022 10:15 pm IST

Link To Article

Link To E-book

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PRECIOUS DAYS ARE FOREVER

8/26/2019

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PART I: Traveling To Malaya (The late 1920s)
Chapter 1: Across The Sea
By Dato’ Saroja Dev Param, JP

There we stood on the deck leaning against the thick steel bars looking out at the wide blue ocean. Just two days before that, my uncle from Gokarna Village brought me and my mother to Brahmanbaria where we met Dr. D.C. Chowdhury and his newly wed charming bride Shanti Lata and his four year old son – Noni (his home name) from his previous marriage. His first wife had passed away, so he went back to India to get married again.

Dr. Chowdhury who was working in Malaya was a good friend of my father. It was arranged that we would travel with them to Malaya. My father too was working there for some time. Just imagine, I would be seeing my father for the first time. I just can’t remember whether the news aroused any emotion or excitement within me but I know my mother would have been waiting for this wonderful opportunity when she could meet father after such a long time. I was about four years when I left India for Malaya. It was a long voyage, soon we struck on a friendship that continued through the years. Ma, and Kakima listened intently to all the stories Dinesh Kaku told them about life in the strange land where they would make their homes.

Their conversations were quite interesting as we could see them laugh and sometimes mother and kakima looked surprised at what Dinesh Kaku was relating to them. After such long hours in the cabins, we spent the evenings on the deck. Noni and I too enjoyed being on the deck and looking out at the wide blue expanse of water. One such evening while we were on the deck we saw a beautiful scene out there in the ocean. Both Noni and I were fascinated. ‘Dekho, dekho,’ (Look, look) we said in a loud voice pointing out towards the sea. It was a magnificent display of about five or six dolphins leaping in a line. We jumped up and down in our excitement much to the worry of the adults. Dinesh Kaku rushed up to us and held us by our hands. Henceforth we were not allowed to stand near the bars. It was a long and tedious voyage, especially for those who became sea-sick.

Travelling during those early days was difficult, but it was indeed an exciting adventure for many. Transportation on land was mainly on land was mainly on routes used by carts and carriages which were pulled by horses. The brave and adventurous people crossed the oceans and rivers in sailing boats which were improved from time to time. With the arrival of steam came the steamship which made voyages shorter and safer than those in the earlier days.

It was much later in life I remember one of my friends had asked me, “By the way, Saroja, how did you come from India?” “Well, I had a long and interesting voyage from Calcutta in India to Penang in Malaya.” My friend was excited to know more about the voyage. “Well, we sailed in a B.I.S.N. ship – the British India Steam Navigation company which was formed in 1856. The sea-voyage took us almost seven days,” I replied. “It was one of the largest companies in the British Mercantile marine. It was finally absorbed into P & O shipping line – Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation company in 1972,” I continued. “That was how trade was carried on between countries in the early days.”

After seven long hectic days, some hills were sighted off the island of Penang. It was such a relief for the tired and sick passengers. We were looking forward to disembark from the ship. Dinesh Kaku sorted out things while Kakima and Ma arranged the things and helped with the luggage while waiting for the porter. The next thing I remember is that we were on a train leaving for Seremban. The rest of the journey didn’t matter much as I knew that we were on our way home and my father would be meeting us at the Seremban Railway Station. Noni and I were comfortable seated near the window. It was indeed a long and tedious train ride. It was neither exciting nor interesting. Luckily, we had a good rest in a hotel for a day and a half while waiting for the train schedule.

Nothing appeared interesting any more. I was just waiting for the long and tedious journey to come to an end. Sometimes we looked out through the window, the green landscapes fleeted past as the train chucked forward in its monotonous rhythm across the land. We had sips of drinks now and then to refresh ourselves and ate biscuits and buns when we were hungry.

Soon we saw some of the passengers arranging their bags and things. It was clear that we were approaching our destination – Seremban. Dinesh Kaku, Kakima and Ma too soon sorted out their things and arranged them neatly on the seat. It was a great relief. The train whistle blew as it came near the railway station and gradually slowed down as it moved into the railway station. It was time to get off the train. We waited for a while as porters came into the coach to take out the passengers luggage. Dinesh Kaku had to hire them and we followed them down to the platform. There was another stop and another check of the luggage as they were carried out to the waiting area where relatives and friends were anxiously waiting for their loved ones. Kaku was indeed a wonderful man and a great friend. He single handedly managed everything during the whole journey. It was indeed a remarkable service which I think brought our two families closer than ever. I as a little child admired his gentle ways and the affection he showed us all. He would look into your eyes and speak softly. You were then bound to listen to him carefully.

Father and he were very good friends and father knew Kaku was a capable and responsible person. As we walked into that area Father walked up with a contented smile “Dinesh Babu, wonderful, wonderful,” he said and rushed up to meet us. I think I would have gazed at him, as he was a very handsome man. I didn’t know how long it was since he came to Malaya and how long we were apart. Then we had to travel another 16 miles in a taxi. Now that we had reached our destination we were anxious to reach our home.

Father had to hire two taxis as besides people there was the luggage. After a long and winding drive we reached the house which was by the main road. It was a double-storey wooden bungalow. We went up the flight of stairs and soon sat on the chairs in the spacious bright and breezy verandah. After some light refreshments and exchange of news, they sorted out their things and discussed their plans.

Kaku, Kakima and Noni would leave for their own house in Chembong Estate which was about two miles from our house. Thus began our days with the Bengalee community in Malaya.

My Father And My Mother

The first time I saw my father was when I met him at the Seremban Railway Station. I think he came near me and touched my head, I just looked at him. He had met my mother after a very long time.

In later years I often used to wonder how was it that my father and mother who were from different villages quite a distance from each other had been happily married. You had to go by boat for at least one whole day. In my mother’s family she and her elder brother were the only siblings whereas on my father’s side, there were five brothers and one sister. It must have been an arduous task for my mother to do the household chores knowing that she was only fifteen years of age when she got married to my father who was twenty-two years of age.

She managed quite well she used to say. The four brothers-in-law were sometimes quite entertaining although cooking and feeding was a heavy task. Her sister-in-law tried to keep her company, she couldn’t be of much help as she was blind.
She had numerous stories to tell. She did so with a light heart relate all the experiences of living in a large family.

Heading To Rembau

Imagine, in a land thousands of miles away from the country which we called home. The most interesting things were the changing scenes of the countryside through which the taxi drove along. I was looking out through the open window of the taxi. Miles and miles of the roadside were covered with trees. Suddenly, I heard Father say, “We will soon be reaching our destination, I mean the house.”

I looked at him wondering what kind of a house could it be. Just then as if he had read my thought he said, “Oh yes, it is a double-storey wooden bungalow, and it is on the right side of the road.”

Nobody asked any questions. Mother, Kakima, Father and I were in the taxi. We just listened when Father said anything.
Mother, Kakima and I were is a new country and conversation was difficult for us. Things around us seemed to be a bit strange, people, places and of course the language spoken. We were just waiting to reach our bungalow house.
Just then Father told the taxi driver to slow down. He slowed and gently turned to the right of the road and drove down an earth road for a few yards right to the front of a wooden double-storey bungalow house.

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STRANGERS AT THE DOOR

7/27/2015

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STRANGERS AT THE DOOR

Twilight was gently fading in the western sky. It was just like any other day with no one expecting anything exciting to happen. It was a day during the Japanese occupation of Malaya in the 1940s. People just focused on the routine of the day.

At such an hour people fed their hens and ducks. Next was the preparation for dinner for the night. Mothers took a lot of trouble getting dinner ready for the family. Every night was a different menu – each of the menus were really delicious and much appreciated by the family.

So it was on one particular evening. All of a sudden my sister and brothers ran down the stairs to the kitchen. They looked shocked and breathlessly said, “A lady has come up the stairs in front of the house and is now sitting in the verandah”. We looked at each other. Then mother told them to tell father.

We were shocked and waited for father to come. Those days very few houses were fenced and had gates in front. Our house was along the main road from north to south of Malaya. The house was a double story bungalow without a door at the bottom of the verandah stairs.

Helter, skelter we all rushed up to the verandah, father too was soon in the verandah. The lady was dressed in a white saree. She was comfortably settled in the rattan chair.

It was already dusk, and at such an hour there was nothing we could do, except to give her shelter for the night. When father spoke to her in Malay she answered in Hindi. As father knew Hindi he was comfortable speaking to her. The lady was very nervous, “Just let me sit here through the night”. Father then asked her from where she came and where she was going.

Then she told her plight, she was from Seremban and was on her way to see her daughter in Tampin and there was no family who could go and find out about her daughter.

We listened with awe. Public transport those days was a great problem. They were packed and there were many accidents. Many families had sent their young ones who cycled to their destination.

“Just let me spend the night. I will be off early in the morning”, she said. Father nodded and told her to have a meal and spend the night in the guest room. Father told me to tell mother that we had a guest for dinner. So it was settled. As planned she had her dinner and spent the night in our place, and left very early in the morning.

Months passed by and it happened once again. This time it was a man. He looked Caucasian. He just walked into our front entrance right up the stairs.

Father saw the group near the stairs. He left his work and soon came up to find out what the matter was. Father asked him what had happened. It surprised us more when we saw there was no car at the roadside.

When asked, the man told his name and told that he wanted to spend the night at our place and that he was on his way to Thailand. What could father do, there was no other way except to let him spend the night at our place.

Friend or stranger both need our help. After a light meal he was shown the guest room where he spent the night.

Father spent a sleepless night. The man left the next morning. He was on his way after thanking father for his kindness. Strange things happen during strange times. Suddenly father said out loud, “Last night I saw a light between the wooden planks. He must be a Holy man.” We whispered, “How can that be?” and smiled.

If you were to live in a location such as ours, you are bound to have such adventures.

The next episode was unexpected. It happened as if destiny wanted it to happen. I was cycling back home after I had purchased some groceries from the town – Rembau. I was out of Rembau town and I was already near the bridge which spanned a scenic area where there were rice fields on either side of the bridge. Right in the middle of the bridge I saw three Indian people standing near a car. They looked worried and as I came nearer to them, one of them – a lady stopped me and said that their car had engine trouble and they were worried as it was getting dark.

Without wasting any time, I offered them to put up the night in our home. There was no other choice. We walked the mile to our house. The lady was a doctor and the other two were her brothers. They had gone to Singapore to see their sister who was ill.

I was happy to see father waiting for me. I introduced them and said what had happened. They were soon introduced to the family. After a while they had their dinner and soon their sleeping places were sorted out. Father told them about the mechanic’s shop just half a mile from the parked car.

Next morning they left early after breakfast to attend to their car. What a night we had. Anyway, they were very happy to be in a safe place. About two hours later we saw a car pull up in front of our house. Curious as we were, we rushed down the stairs to see who they were. They were the guest we had the previous night. They got out of the car, shook hands with us and thanked us for our kindness. Strangers they were, they left us as friends.

It brings to light that though people had a busy and difficult time during the Japanese occupation, they had determination and courage to overcome their difficulties and at the same time help others who were in trouble.
Saroja Dev Param
June 2015

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Bengal House Malaysia

5/25/2015

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BENGAL HOUSE MALAYSIA
Stands there the Bengal house
                in all its glory,
Within its walls you’ll find
                many a precious story.
You hear the gentle whisper
                of the racing waves,
You see the beauty of nature
                around the place.

Daughters and sons come and go,
They go there to pray, to meet and to know.
Under its roof you meet the wise and bright,
They know what’s good and what is right.

Remember those who gave their time,
Do your best and let it shine.
It’s a place for all,
Be they big or small.

The pioneers did all with pleasure,
Leaving for us a beautiful treasure.
Let the golden bells joyfully chime,
And the soothing echoes ring all the time.

Move forward day after day,
Steadfast and true all the way.
It’s a blissful place to be
An abode of peace and harmony.
                                                          - Saroja Dev Param -

Bengal House Malaysia is located in Port Dickson, Negri Sembilan, Malaysia

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THREE KIDS IN A BASKET

4/25/2015

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THREE KIDS IN A BASKET

Mrs. Selva had just sent the children to the Kindergarten school in the town of Seremban. She was about to sit down to browse through the daily papers. Just then the phone rang. She picked up the phone and was surprised to hear the children’s teacher’s voice. The teacher had called to inform that the children were all crying and she was unable to manage them. They were her two daughters, 6 year old Mala and 5 year old Meena and their 6 year old cousin Satish. Miss Dina the teacher suggested to send someone to bring them back home.

Without wasting any time Mrs. Selva rushed down to ask her neighbour Mr. Ratnam who was working in the school canteen to bring back the children as Mrs. Selva hadn’t the car. Mr. Selva had taken it and gone for a meeting in town. As soon as Mr. Ratnam heard the story, he took his bicycle and rushed down to the school.

The Kindergarten school was in the middle of the town. They knew most of the teachers, and the children looked smart in their grey and white uniforms. The teachers were friendly and kind, but unfortunately the children were not happy going to the school.

Mrs. Selva was worried how Mr. Ratnam would manage and how he would arrange to bring them all back as the public transport system was not convenient.

Mrs. Selva and Mrs. Ratnam kept talking about the possibilities. Satish was Mr. and Mrs. Ratnam’s son. Time passed very slowly. Both Mrs. Ratnam and Mrs. Selva just kept talking and worrying. As they were busy talking, they saw a group of children laughing and giggling rushing towards a most unexpected scene.

Both Mrs. Selva and Mrs. Ratnam stood and craned their necks to see why the children were so thrilled. Imagine their shock when they saw Mr. Ratnam pushing the bicycle uphill at the entrance. The real shock was when they saw Mala, Meena and Satish all three comfortably seated in the big marketing basket which was strapped to the bicycle carrier. It was indeed something exciting and funny. Mr. Ratnam was panting but he too joined in the laughter.

He pushed the bicycle into the canteen as the children followed behind laughing their sides out. The three of them gleefully joined and realised it was not that funny. However, they were glad that everything went off well. Uncle Ratnam put the bicycle on the stand and lifted them out one by one. They were all exhausted but happy to be home.

It was indeed an experience for the kids. They thanked Uncle Ratnam, so did Mrs. Selva for his presence of mind and his kindness. When Mr. Selva returned home and heard what had happened, he too thanked Mr. Ratnam and of course burst out laughing.

Nowadays we don’t realise how people those days managed without easy transport as many could not afford to have a car. You had to depend on public transport or else, it was the “good old bicycle” to cross short distances. There was no mobile phone but they managed to communicate only with the telephone and letter writing. Well, life goes on and we watch with pleasure the changing scenes over time.

Those days in the 1960s people played an important role in the community. It was indeed a pleasure to have a friend or neighbour who is kind and thoughtful like Mr. Ratnam.

Saroja Dev Param

April, 2015

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Two Cups of Tea February 16, 2015

2/23/2015

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Two Cups of Tea

It was a family gathering, the relatives old and young were enjoying their usual conversation which brought back memories of the days gone by. There was laughter amidst the chats. A joyous atmosphere prevailed.

The younger ones sat in groups and talked about their favourite games and jokes. The dinner was just over. Amidst the groups there was two little cousins Ashok aged 5 years and Ramesh aged 7 years (not their real names). They were engaged in an interesting conversation.

One of the adults overheard what they were talking about. They were cute and cheerful. As they had met for the first time, they introduced themselves and as they spoke they shook their hands vigorously. Standing near the table in the sitting room they continued what they were saying. “Will you come to my house?”, asked Ramesh. “Where is your house?”, asked Ashok. “My father knows where your house is”, answered Ramesh.

Finally they decided that Ramesh would visit Ashok one day in the near future. “You can give me a cup of tea”, continued Ramesh.

“And I’ll have ‘a cup of tea’ “, added Ashok. “And there will be two cups of tea”, quipped the two little boys together.

Hearing this it touched my heart and I wanted to share this beautiful story with my friends. Such wonderful little boys.

They were ideal examples of affection and love. They introduced themselves and quietly bonded their relationship with dignity and grace. I was impressed with their behaviour and social etiquette.

Their expression of joy and happiness was evident. They were important guests that evening and obviously they enjoyed themselves. To prove it all Ramesh was in a hilarious mood. He showed his watch to Ashok and said, “I have a watch, a hand-phone and a wallet. Now, I am a man!”.

It was a beautiful setting with a happy gathering.

Saroja Dev Param

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Power of Love - 5 September 2014.

1/15/2015

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The Power Of Love

My friends and I were on our way to a Children's Day Celebration at a Tamil Primary School. This school was located in a oil palm plantation just a few miles from Seremban.

It was a picturesque scene with the school on a hill, a Hindu Temple at the edge of a big green field and a community hall at the other end. Our car drove up to the community hall.

The ladies were thrilled to meet the excited children. We were delighted to meet them as they were our adopted children and we were their adopted mothers. We gave them financial aid and books and encouraged them to study hard.

It was a 3 year programme initiated by members of the Convent Past Pupils Association Seremban. Our members adopted them from Standard 4 to Standard 6. The participants were the students, parents, teachers and our members. It was for the benefit of the students. We were there to help them by meeting them, their parents and teachers.

It was our last gathering and we were happy to meet them. My adopted daughter was Meena (not her real name). She was a bright student. Meena, her monther and I were talking, when suddenly Meena ran out through the door. She soon returned holding a little boy by his hand. "He is my brother Kumar" (not his real name) said Meena when she came near the table. He sat next to her. I observed with curiosity as she pushed her cup of tea, cakes and puffs towards Kumar. I realised in a flash - it was the power of love that led her to such an action. How could she enjoy her tea and cakes while her brother would have none. I then gave my tea and cakes, and as for me - a vigilant teacher brought me my tea.

When I mentioned this incident to the Headmistress, she told us the details about Meena's family. The plantation manager gave them financial assistance as Meena had no father and her mother was sickly, and was unable to do the housework. Meena was the one who prepared the meals for the family. Despite such conditions, she did well in her studies. Such love, diligence and compassion needs to be commended.

The talking and laughter quietened as the Headmistress addressed the gathering. She praised the students for their achievement and progress in their studies, thanked the teachers for their hard work, the parents for their co-operation and the "adopted mothers" for their great commitment to the cause of education.

Thinking very seriously I am certain that the project was a great success due to the effort put in by all concerned. However, I wish to record that the cooperation given helped the students a great deal. "Love" was the basis of giving and sharing for the progress of the individual in a community and the society at large.

Saroja Dev Param

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January 15th, 2015

1/15/2015

4 Comments

Vettiaman Clan Gathering 2014
Royal Sungai Ujong Club, Seremban, Negeri Sembilan, Malaysia

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As I observe

7/16/2014

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Songs To Remember

7/7/2014

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MALAYSIA OUR DEAR MOTHERLAND

Malaysia our dear motherland
Bound by shores of golden sands
Green hills rising high, and
cooling breeze blowing by.

Blue rivers gently glide
Across forests far and wide
Land of bright and sunny skies
Awakens hopes rising high.

Ancient and charming is its tale
Malaysia we joyously hail.
Oh dear land our love we give.
Let's in peace and happiness live!

Lyrics by V. S. Param & Saroja Dev Param 1960s