Ramrod straight, an open smile and twinkling eyes match is suave self dressed in clothes as neat and crisp as rice paper. “I was always told to patch up your clothes, polish your shoes and dress your hair,” reminisces this retired army officer. And he’s been following it for the last several decades.

Wash was born in Madras on March 13, 1914. Yes, he has an elephantine memory and can rattle of time, date and year without any difficulty. He lost his father when he was a boy. His mother couldn’t support him and his sister, so he was sent to a “home in Madras called Civil Orphan Asylum” where he could “live and study too. I studied in this school till 1923.” Christmases were mostly spent in the hostel. “On Christmas day we would be served pulao, chicken, sweet, fruit custard and bread pudding.”

At 17, he began working as a telephone operator. “We had to plug the receiver and shout loudly and people would scream loudly to us. I couldn’t do it,” Wash recalls. Two years later, Wash joined the army. Today four medals – Campaign medal, star medal, victory medal and independent medal – keep him company, reminding of the bygone days.

After his stint in Bangalore, he was posted in Malay, Singapore. In 1924, he was captured by the Japanese and remained imprisoned for the next three years. “The Christmas I spent in captivity was a poor Christmas,” says Wash.”I remember eating maize and palm oil.” After three years of incarceration, he returned to India. “I lived in Hyderabad for sometime before moving to Bangalore. “The Bangalore today is not the same as I remember it. As I see it, it is the dirtiest city in the country,” he says. Wash today receives 30,000 as pension, which he passes on to his 62-year-old daughter who cares for him. “At this age what should I buy and what should I spend it on? The Lord has kept me free from wants,” he says.

While in the army, Wash married Pamela in Mysore. He had four girls and four boys. After retiring from the army, Wash worked at Central Food Technological Research Institute (CFTRI) in Mysore. “I didn’t like civil life. Today, the civil officers are highly corrupt,” he says. In 1962, the government gave Wash eight acres of land on which he built a house. His family stayed with him on this farmhouse till 1978. “Some of Pamela’s people, her brothers and sisters joined us in the farm in 1971 for a memorable Christmas. “They made sweets. We had all kinds of meat dishes…” recalls Wash. But, his all-time favourite Christmas meal, he says, will always be the custard and roast chicken prepared by his wife. Oh, yes and he also remembers what she wore on the Christmas of 1968, “She wore a gorgeous red and black checked plaited dress stitched by a good ladies tailor from Goa.” That Christmas, Wash’s eight children and grandchildren joined them in the celebrations. When the kids were little, they would set up a tree at home, decorate it and give their Rugrats gifts. “The girls got dolls and the boys got toy trains,” he says.

In 1975, Wash spent Christmas in Mysore with an Anglo Indian German gentleman and his brother, who threw a grand party for all friends. The hosts were dear friends of Jayachamaraja Wadiyar, who looked after them. “Srikantadatta Wadiyar was a little boy then. I got some novels and something to take home… I think it was a vase,” says Wash. In 1986, Wash and Pamela entered Little Sisters of the Poor in Mysore. After nine days his wife passed away. Like last year, even this year, Wash intends on going to his daughter’s house for Christmas to be with his children and grand children.

“Christmas has become stale because it is the same thing over and over again. It is the same meal, same recipe only the environment and company changes,” says Wash. Celebrating 99 Christmases will get to me too, I guess /

source: http://www.BangaloreMirror.com / Home> Sunday Read> Special> Story / by Khushali P Madhwani / December 23rd, 2012