A professor for all times — my grandfather Prof. MA Sethu Rao
I wrote this in 2010 but posting it again now.
A man to be reckoned with!
Prof. M A Sethu Rao, professor of chemistry at Central College, Bangalore — much beloved teacher, liked and admired by a host of people from scientists, littérateurs, teachers, political workers and so many others. Originally from Malur, thata’s family moved to Bangalore when he was very young. Thatha’s father Malur Appu Rao was in the employment of the British and probably did ethnographic work for them. His mother died when his younger brother Rajaram was born. Thatha had 10 siblings all in all. He was brought up by his elder sister.
Thatha was exceptionally bright and from his own recollection his childhood days seemed a lot of fun. He used to gleefully recount his NCC days when the cadets would be given badam (almond) halwa on the last day of the camp. He was always into reading and it was little wonder that he got into academics. After completing his BSc honors Chemistry and MSc Chemistry he took up a teaching post at Central College. Meanwhile he was also heavily involved in the Quit India Movement and went to jail twice for picketing shops and burning foreign clothes. He was always a rebel and stood for justice and fairness. His involvement in the freedom struggle also led him to find his life partner in the days when marriage by choice was unheard of. My ajji was also involved in the freedom struggle and jailed. Despite protests from his family, thatha went ahead and married ajji. A few years later, India became free from the British rule.
Thatha was a brilliant teacher and his students at Central College adored him. His student Prof. Amulya Reddy — eminent scientist at IISc recalls how thatha inspired everyone to love chemistry by making it fun. Thatha always said that chemistry was a volatile subject whenever I complained that I could never remember equations and chemical names.
Thatha was a thorough socialist, hobnobbing with members of the Communist Party of India. Twice he visited Russia and always praised Russian technology. He was a bundle of energy never staying at home. As a child I always remember thatha rushing off here and there. Traveling to villages, cities etc. After retiring, along with the support of the Indian Institute of Science, he and a few pioneers set up the Karnataka State Council for Science and Technology, IISc. He was the first secretary and worked extensively to promote science in society. He was involved in the Bhanamati project going to villages and explaining away superstitions. He had immense faith in the power of science to change lives. Later he founded the Karnataka Rajya Vijnana Parishad and today an auditorium is named in his memory. He was the executive editor of a Kannada popular science magazine for children called Bala Vignana. He was also the chief editor of the Kannada Science Encyclopedia. In 1999 he received the National Award for Popularization of Science by the Department of Science and Tech, Govt of India. His friends and contemporaries included Dr.H Narasimhiah, Prof JR Lakshmana Rao (his best friend), Prof Krishna Bhat, Prof Ha Ma Nayak. His stupendous achievements never made him proud. He was one of the simplest and nicest persons one could ever come across.
Thatha was extremely patient when it came to teaching. I was a quite a duffer when it came to math, but he was always understanding and didn’t mind repeating a problem several times. Thata was instrumental in inculcating in me the love of books. Piles and piles of books in our house bought for me by thata. From Russian folk tales to stories of science applications. Despite being a man of science, thata had a deep love for literature. He used to buy up the classics and make me compulsorily read ten pages a day. It was fun. When I took up MA in English Studies, thatha was the first to grab my books and read it all! I even slyly asked him to summarize a few fictive works to avoid reading through them all (lazy me!).
Thatha was the closest to me and extremely protective. Being a sickly weak creature, thatha had a soft corner for me. Thatha would become extremely anxious if I fell sick, hovering around and making phone calls to doctors. When I refused to take medicines or ran away from injections, thatha would always bribe me saying he would buy me something nice if I was a good girl and did what was expected. And true to his word, the promised gift always turned up.
A true Gandhian he was closely involved in the activities of Gandhi Sahitya Sangha. A patron of khadi, people always remember him in a long flowing khaddar kurta with a khadi jholi on his shoulder. Never materialistic he cared a damn for money. In his entire life, he never had a wallet. He just used to stuff his money into his khadi kurta pockets and go about (lost quite a bit too and didn’t care a twig). That’s how great my thatha was.
Thatha was a living encyclopedia. As long as he was alive, I never touched an encyclopedia or dictionary. I would always go to him and he would have answers. He never restricted himself to science reading. He had read the entire collection in my literary theory books list. When postmodernist articles began to question the validity of science as a social construct, thatha became very excited. He was indignant that anybody do such a thing. He was all for Alan Sokal and applauded Sokal’s Hoax. He dashed off a letter to the editor of Diksoochi — a Kannada Science magazine condemning post modernism. My friends from my MA class and I had lots of fun arguing with thatha on post modernism.
Thatha was the kindest person ever. Though he disliked pets at home, he cared for our cats. We had a host of cats and kittens and though thatha disliked them coming inside, he was always the first to put milk when they mewed. He used to appreciate a black and white cat called Cleo who was very sedate. He used to call him the “gentleman cat.” It was not strange to see thatha sprawled in his chair reading and Cleo at his feet snoring. The day thatha died, the cats gathered outside and howled dismally. They knew by instinct that thatha would never come out with a cup of milk and talk kindly to them (yes, thatha would often talk to them).
Thatha was never for religion. He hated organized religion and took part in several peace marches and protests post Babri Masjid. He somehow caught hold of a video documentary “In the name of Ram” and pointed out the dangers of zealousness.
The only time thatha used to chide me was when I lounged around during exam time. He would say, “Are you a retired fellow? Go and read.”
It’s been exactly 20 years since thatha died but his memory remains in everyone’s mind. After his death, I sorted out his personal papers and found a letter from Prof Amulya Reddy addressed to him. This letter beats “To Sir, With Love.” When thatha died, both Prof Reddy and Dr.H Narasimhiah advised me to carry on his legacy in terms of being a truly good individual. How far I have achieved or will achieve I don’t know, but thatha is definitely the strongest influence in my life. And thatha’s loss has left a void that none can fill and a burning desire to carry on his good name.
