Sir P. S. Sivaswami Aiyar: Some Glimpses

It was an afternoon some fifteen years ago, when a young man of Mylapore entered Sir P. S. Sivaswami Aiyar’s library in his palatial ‘Sudharma’. The portly figure, seated at a spacious table and holding a book in his right hand, eyed the intruder somewhat scrutinizingly over his pair of reading glasses. There was a slight twitching of the mouth accompanying that already disturbed glance of his. This was enough to unnerve the young friend and make him feel guilty of some grave misdemeanour. There was, however, no lack of the usual exchange of courtesies between them.

The purpose of that unceremonious entry was soon disclosed. A request fell from the young man’s lips for a book from Sivaswami Aiyar’s library. And it caused a fresh wrinkle on the face of the old gentleman. He looked embarrassed, though he slowly relaxed his countenance and catechised his young visitor thus:

“Why do you require this book?”

“Because I need it for a thesis I am preparing.”

“I see; but are you aware of the utter scarcity of copies of this publication in the market? Don’t you know there are only two or three libraries in Madras possessing copies of it? Moreover, there is no near prospect of a fresh edition.”

The young man was not posted with information on any of these points. So he remained confused and silent.

Sivaswami Aiyar then relented a bit. He was evidently changing his mind. He was heard to say again: “Well, if you will not take a refusal from me, you may have to assure me on the following points: that you will not lend it to anyone else, and that you will use the volume carefully, without opening the pages wider than necessary or leaving the book unclosed on the table when you are not reading it.”

The listener looked more perturbed than ever, though no reply emerged from him. But Sivaswami Aiyar was not silent; he once again shifted his position. He said: “Or, you do one thing. You can go over to my place and do the reading in my library. You will not be disturbed here.”

The last suggestion clearly indicated how unwilling Sivaswami Aiyar was to lend his books. There was not even an attempt to hide his point view. It was all very definite, and very dispiriting to the young man had hardly devoted a minute to the possibility of a refusal. He had no alternative except to go home without the book and ponder over that interview with the owner of such a precious library. Once the vexation had passed, and reflection enabled the mind to view things clearly, the attitude of Sivaswami Aiyar towards books seemed quite understandable. The occasion served to enlighten the uninitiated mind how to value the company of those “kings and statesmen lingering……in those anterooms–our book-case shelves.”

Sivaswami Aiyar believed it was perfectly normal for anybody to guard jealously the books he had purchased and preserved with care. How could he brook the thought of their being used carelessly or borrowed without a due sense of responsibility? His own partiality for books, and the long hours he spent exclusively in their company, made him ignore one of the ‘Five Laws of Library Science’ emphasising the use of books by all. Well, he could have argued, if charged with violating the maxim ‘Books for all’, that he did not know such a rule applied at all to private libraries. Anyway, Sivaswami Aiyar never concealed that it was a wrench for him to part with books to anyone.

The ennobling company of rich minds was always at his beck and call. He could go into his vast library and minister to their comfort. For such a large collection of books, the ‘missing’ volumes were very few: he was so strict in letting anyone have the use of his books. The love he bore them was unique. They were never exposed to insects nor allowed to have even a speck of dust on them. Every inch a scholar, he was imbued with a spirit of wide and regular study, because of the spacious times to which he belonged. In his youth, culture meant a knowledge of something of everything and everything of something. Naturally, therefore, he had avidity for ready reference to any book be desired. Moreover, his book-habit was such that, without recourse to verification of information from them, he would hardly speak of his impressions of any of them. If he was making any public pronouncement or giving a statement to the Press, he could never be found guilty of misquoting authors or misrepresenting their ideas.

On a closer analysis of Sivaswami Aiyar’s mental make-up, one could perceive an assiduously cultivated intellectual honesty, which formed the seat, as it were, of his disciplined outlook on life. And we know it is none-too-easy a process for anyone to convince himself of the necessity for such an intellectual honesty in every thought of his. Sivaswami Aiyar, however, made it his ‘prime care’ in life. It undoubtedly saved him often from floundering upon rocks of prejudices when borne on the high seas of public life. While it is true he could not sympathise either with the non-co-operation movement launched by the Congress in the twenties of this century or with its high-priest of Satyagraha, it is noteworthy that he never spoke a word in private about that ‘saint in politics’ which he was not prepared to proclaim in public. By his criticism of the great leader of the Indian masses, he faced unpopularity and carping comment. It may be startling indeed to be told he rarely mouthed the appellation of ‘Mahatma’ when he referred to him. It might even have appeared unpatriotic to adhere to plain ‘Mr. Gandhi’ when all the world adopted ‘Mahatma’ as the most proper epithet to describe that great man. Still Sivaswami Aiyar, for reasons known to himself, preferred to omit it in his none too frequent references.

Again, if he could not agree with the politics of some individuals, he did not for that reason allow his judgment of their personal qualities to get clouded. No doubt, Sri Satyamurthi often offended Sivaswami Aiyar’s, sense of propriety by his torrential and vituperative arraignment against the Liberal Party. But Sivaswami Aiyar could never reconcile his conscience to an under estimate of the abilities of Sri Satyamurthi as an orator, or as a debater in the Central Assembly. Nay, he could not suppress even his personal satisfaction at Satyamurthi’s great performances in the House in connection with the opposition to the passing of the Criminal Law Amendment Bill.

He always carried with him an academic mind which would never take anything for granted, nor change its views in response to an emotional appeal. He never liked to be drawn unawares into controversies which were likely to produce heat, but maintained at the same time an open mind to receive any arguments that might or might not eventually influence him. Also, he could watch any discussion without the least impatience to join in himself, or to judge of its merits unasked. If Gandhiji’s philosophy of Ahimsa struck him as not entirely based upon Hindu thought as disclosed by our ancient texts, he would never rush to the Press or the platform with his own favourite theories. Rather, he would wait long enough before coming to a decision that he should express himself upon the subject. Bu he would not be keeping quiet in the interval. He would consult old texts, pore over tomes and do research work with the aid of his trustworthy Pandits in the allied topics of Ahimsa and Asanga, and give out the benefit of his deep learning and assimilation of ideas in a series of University lectures! These lectures reveal to many a researcher, with half-baked theories and fads, what amount of pains and endeavours to correlate thought with experience is necessary before one could claim the attention of the world upon questions of such significance.

The extreme circumspection and deliberation he evinced in whatever he did or said, made him unattractive to many a public worker who had to contact him. He could not help his caution and care in his approach to any problem, either of a domestic nature or of any public importance. They became part of his personality, at the risk of causing unfavourable impressions, sometimes even amidst his close friends. Again, he had not in abundance the spark of imagination which could help one to cover up draws when brought among the tasks of real public life. All these made him appear somewhat at a disadvantage by the side of another who was his equal in almost everything, and had come up with him both in his college days and in the legal profession–V Krishnaswami Aiyar. Krishnaswami Aiyar, from the beginning, showed such an amazing fund of heart and nerve and such a powerful imagination and ambition for achievement that Sivaswami Aiyar seemed, by his side, like the tortoise in the story, content to keep a steady pace, though all the time sure of his goal being reached. Neither swerving from what he had decided upon in his calmer moments, nor deviating one hair’s breadth from his long cherished ideals of conduct in life, he was at last able to convince the public as well as those near him how very substantial, though any day much less spectacular than his friend’s, was the record of his services to the country. Unmistakably, Krishnaswami Aiyar’s was a forceful and magnetic nature, drawing to itself many sharp and bright intellects and raising high hopes and expectations of a far greater potentiality in its ultimate usefulness. The quenching of that fire at the comparatively young age of forty-nine led even some of their common friends to think that, by no stretch of imagination on their part, could Sivaswami Aiyar benefit at all by a comparison with his departed friend. Still, when the mind gets freed from highly speculative evaluations of personalities, the hard fact remains that none should be judged by anything beyond what has actually been derived from him by the world at large. Estimated in this manner, perhaps, Sivaswami Aiyar’s contributions to his country cannot be deemed insignificant in quality or inconsiderable in quantity.

One cannot forget also how Sivaswami Aiyar suffered under an initial disadvantage, when he assumed the office of Member of the Executive Council of the Governor of Madras in quick succession to his friend Krishnaswami Aiyar. Even the great Gokhale, no mean judge of men and affairs, grew impatient, it was said, when, as a member of the Public Services Commission which visited Madras in 1912, he had to deal with Sivaswami Aiyar. To a friend by his side Gokhale is reported to have said, on finding the slowness of Siva swami Aiyar’s progress during the enquiry; “My friend Krishnaswami would have plucked the heart out of the subject and made his points in fifteen minutes.” Well, this remark only brings out that Gokhale had evidently more in common with his recently departed friend and therefore could not appreciate the methodical brain of Sivaswami Aiyar. If only Gokhale had lived some more years, he would surely have joined in the chorus of praise of Sivaswami Aiyar’s infallible approach to public questions and his thoroughness of work, enabling a world, which was not watching him at the time, to have the satisfaction of a unique self-sufficiency and masterliness of draughtsmanship in the Reports for which he was responsible. Maybe he was not quick in action, but all the same some of his outstanding acts reveal the happy combination in him of precept and practice in an adequate proportion.

Though Sivaswami Aiyar always impressed people by his predominantly serious bent of mind, he was not lacking in buoyancy of spirits when in the company of young men. No doubt, his humour and liveliness were not of the contagious variety. His mind never knew what facetious company meant. Yet there was an enjoyable sense of inquisitiveness which he exhibited in matters that were purely intellectual. Thus, if he came to know of a scholar or savant making a speech anywhere, he would like to listen to him and make sure whether the reputation he enjoyed was justified. He would even try to be at the lecture-hall long before the scheduled time, in order to secure a good seat within easy hearing. He would afterwards discuss with others who had attended the lecture the points he was not sure of, and evoke some slight laughter at others’ expense in case their understanding was not up to his expectation.

Allied with his intellectual curiosity was his reasoning faculty which showed no signs of weakening, despite his failing health. He would be slow to yield to an adversary in an argument. Himself requiring sufficient time to take breath or draw sustenance, he would be prepared to allow his opponent equal facilities for equipment in a combat. If the great Sri Ramachandra permitted Ravana in battle to return home and appear on the morrow with a fresh chariot in place of the demolished one, Sivaswami Aiyar was no less an adherent of the dictates of fair-play in a discussion, when he found himself pitted against another. Once when Sivaswami Aiyar had to say something strong by way of criticism of Indian Art and its exponents of the Bengal school, a young enthusiast met him in argument on everything he uttered. Then the old man expanded his lips and said to the young adversary: “You seem to have cultivated a real sense of art. I am not, I should confess, speaking from regular knowledge of the existing books on Indian Art or from personal experience of the original specimens of Indian paintings. Let me, therefore, first equip myself by a study of the subject. Kindly also give me a list of good books on the subject, if you please.” Nothing more need be said to prove his earnestness to find the truth for himself, even regarding subjects from which he instinctive withdrew.

People who had known him in his younger days as a lawyer of mark could bear witness to his careful preparation of briefs and to his accurate presentation in the courts. Those who had opportunities of knowing, at close quarters, his work in the Executive Council could speak to his independence of outlook and mellowness of judgment on matters vitally affecting our Province. Unostentatious service and an inborn hatred of fuss of all kinds distinguished him while in power. His sterling worth as a Servant of the Crown was known to the world outside only long after, when his successors to the same office looked into his previous Minutes on questions of importance, exhibiting a refreshing impartiality and a robust patriotism.

Even his now-famous endowments at Tirukkattupalli and Mylapore to the cause of high school education for boys and girls respectively, became known widely much later than their periods of incubation and inception. For instance, so long ago as 1906 he had taken over the management of the high School at Tirukkattupalli with all its financial responsibilities, but it was only at a much later period that the fact of his having set apart a portion of his hard earnings for philanthropic acts was divulged to the public. Further, his last will and testament disposing of all his remaining properties d personal belongings to ever so many public institutions and private individuals in his service, got never fussed about anywhere in Mylapore, where he had lived for more than sixty years and contracted relationships with the people both rich and poor. As a matter of fact, he laid upon the executors of his will the strict injunction not to give out its provisions as long as his breath lasted. Every little act of service rendered loyally to him, and every small institution of public utility within his personal purview, received his benefaction under the will. None round about him had cause to complain unrequited service of a lifetime rendered to him. He never hankered after expressions of gratitude or appreciation from his beneficiaries, and that was the sole reason for his preventing knowledge of his dispositions being made known to their recipients before his actual passing away. A world which was not extra kindly disposed to him in his comparatively younger ways, remains dumb today with a sense of profound regret that it had betrayed shallowness and petty-mindedness in having minimized his generosity purse and liberality of heart in the past. He was partly to blame for the state of ignorance in which the people at large were kept regarding his munificence and public spirit. For he never resorted to the arts of advertisement and publicity of self, which, with our Western contact, we have almost perfected as an institution for self-glorification in modern times.

Indeed, he was out and out a gentleman and remained equally indifferent to popular applause or opprobrium in whatever he did. He was happy if he did the just and proper thing according to his lights. However much his close circle of friends tried to persuade him to change the name of the National Girls’ School, Mylapore, into one associated with his name, he refused, only adding that after his death they would be at perfect liberty to change it in any manner they liked. The management has very pertinently effected the change long desired by them, by calling the girls’ school as Lady Sivaswami Aiyar’s Girls’ School, thereby associating his imperishable name with the institution.

The good is oft interred with the dead, but the evil they have done lives after them. This is an old saying. Sivaswami Aiyar has left no children of his blood to inherit any defects of his. The institutions he nourished for public good can only retain the good in him. No personal element of Sivaswami Aiyar can be traced in any of these offsprings of his heart and head, which are the priceless gifts of his impersonal attitude to life and the world in general. Throughout his long life, he never did acts whose main springs could be traced to motives of self-advancement. Even his worse critics must have been silenced by his utter selflessness and soundness of statesmanship. Nothing unbecoming can be whispered of him hereafter, For his memory will ever evoke in the hearts of his grateful countrymen an impression of solidity in scholarship, of refreshing sanity in public affairs, and of a great respectability of character in all spheres of human endeavour.