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Posts Tagged ‘Champion’

158 – India’s expert on Coral & Coral reefs

My Father Dr. Reddiah Kosaraju. Andamans & Nicobar Islands. 1977

My father, Dr. Reddiah Kosaraju inspecting Coral reefs. Andamans & Nicobar Islands. 1977

Image and Text contributed by Raju Kosraju, India

My father Dr. Reddiah Kosaraju was a Scientist with a PhD degree in Marine Biology from University of Liverpool (1950s). He was a happy go lucky man, a wonderful person to know, and was generous to the core. Over the years, he helped quite a number of Indian students with no monetary support, by sponsoring their education. He was a good swimmer as well as an outstanding chess player and won the Open All England Chess Championship in 1958.

After a MSc degree from Agra University (standing second) in 1955 with ‘Fish and Fisheries’ as a special subject, he became a Research Assistant in SERI in Dehradun, and then worked as a lecturer in Zoology in Andhra Christian College, Guntur. Thereafter he went to study in Liverpool, England on his own, and completed a PhD degree in record time of only a year and half. He discovered new breeding grounds of edible bivalves (marine mollusks) in U.K and his works on ‘Parasitic copepods of Bivalves’ were featured in several reputed foreign journals. He then returned to India and joined as Pool Officer in Annamalai University.

In 1960, after a posting as a Zoologist in Shillong, he was transferred to Southern Regional Station, ZSI (Zoological Survery of India), Madras (now Chennai), as officer-in-charge. During this tenure, he added several specimens of birds and mammals, and laid the foundation for a scientific museum at the Station. In view of his expertise on corals and coral reefs of India, he also fulfilled a special task of locating corals of medicinal importance around the Andaman & Nicobar Islands, in 1977. In the Andamans, he spent considerable time with the local aboriginal tribes, the Onges.

The Onges were semi-nomadic and were dependent on hunting and gathering for food. Till 1998, the nomadic hunter-gatherers hardly had any contact with the outside world. My father first became friends with the Ongee tribal chief of Little Andaman Islands by exchanging his cigarettes and tin food, for coconut water. But there was also danger around.
A grounded freight ship from Hong Kong on the North Sentinel Island reef had reported small black naked men carrying spears and arrows, and building boats on the beach. They were suspected to be cannibals from Neatorama, the Forbidden Island. No one knows what language they spoke or what they called themselves – they had never allowed anyone to get close enough to find out. The outside world calls them the “Sentineli” or the “Sentinelese” after the island.
Apparently, once when a National Geographic film crew lingered too long in 1975, a Sentinelese warrior shot the director in the thigh with a bow and arrow, and then stood there on the beach laughing at his accomplishment. My father lived amidst dangerous situations but did not make excuses and never raised objections, he ended up doing a brilliant job

Time went on and so did several other postings and promotions, and soon it became clear that my father was overworked. He passed away suddenly on January 30, 1988. Even as an authority on corals and coral reef development, much of his expertise, discoveries and observations on Corals remained untapped and died along with him. At my age, my father had already lived in three countries, travelled the world, and had innumerable adventures – without a guidebook. My dream in life is to make my father proud of the man I become.


76 – “I lied to the Prime Minister of the country.”

A reply letter from the Sixth Prime Minister of India, Rajiv Gandhi to me. New Delhi. December 1, 1985

Letter and Text contributed by Swati Bhattacharya, Gurgaon

Blame it on my only child-ness if you must, but I love famous people loving me. I like provoking intimacy. But only from the jet-setting beau monde. I crave intimacy from people who have no business to get intimate with me. After coming back from school (Delhi Public School R.K.Puram), and doing the stuff I had to do, I’d sit down and think of writing to someone.

The first person I had written to was Hiroko Nagasaki, a Japanese 13 year old swimmer who had swept the Asian Games in 1983. She and I became pen-pals for the next two years. She’d send me paper stickers, perfumed erasers and then one day in school somebody stole my Hiroko box.

Traumatic as it was, I quickly recovered because by then I had received a flowery handmade-paper letter all the way from 22, Zaman Park, Lahore, PakistanImran Khan, the famous cricketer, had written to me. The letter became my raison d’etre for a while. The fact that love does find a way, the fact that the letter had 18 red flowers printed at the back, and the fact that it had been signed as ‘Imran‘ and not ‘Imran Khan‘, to me it was a sign of a cosmic connection. We were meant to be and all that…Anyway, I lost this letter in a crowded Mudrika bus, while doing my nth show and tell.

The letter I am sharing with you is one that still lives with me. Born out of jealousy, it got written in the November of 1985, when newspapers were full of Rajiv Gandhi writing to a Sri Lankan kid. The TV cameras had gone loooking for her and captured her big 100 watt grin much to my annoyance!

I wrote a letter then and there. I lied and said it was my 3rd letter to him. I vented…and wrote that “just because I am too young to vote, my letter had not been replied to”. Next I know is this letter arrived, in a huge envelope with the PMO seal. Even though this is a letter from the Prime Minister to a girl in 10th Grade, I found everything in here. Every emotion. Every truth. Later when I made a ‘Thank You’ card for him, Sonia Gandhi, his wife, sent me a note back on that. In one month I had received 3 letters from the Gandhis.

The uncanny thing is, when I joined HTA (Hindustan Thompson Advertising, now JWT Advertising) as a copy-writer in 1992, my first assignment on PEPSI, was to write to Michael Jackson and ask him to come to India. My client delivered the letter to him personally. I was told, Michael had read it and kept it safely with him.

 


44 – An All India Heavyweight Wrestling and Weightlifting champion

My paternal grandfather, Manjerikandy Ramchandran, Cannanore, Kerala. 1927

Image and text contributed by Sheetal Sudhir, Mumbai

This picture of my grandfather Manjerikandy Ramchandran was taken when he was 16, just before he set sail for Dar-es-salaam for the first time. He came back to India 5 years later and won the All India Heavyweight Wrestling and Weightlifting championship beating several champions including the Sri Lankan heavyweight wrestling champion in 1937.

His son Sudhir Ramchandran is my father who was born in British Tanganyika and retains his British Citizenship until this day. My grandfather was also responsible for building gymnasiums in Cannanore (Kannur) and in Tanzania. There are several tales of how he used to be called to handle African robbers, who existed in plenty those days. His happiest life was in Dar-es-salaam.

After he retired in 1968, he moved back to Cannanore, India to build a house but passed away the same year of cancer. My dad believes that I have adopted his no-nonsense approach to life and loyalty to friends.