I was the sixth child of my parents after my mother had given birth to five daughters.

The value of a son being what it is a basically feudal patriarchal society, I can imagine how happy my mother and father must have been when I was born.

The way my father had struggled to eke out a respectable existence, was an additional factor for jubilation, as I realized later.

He was just nine when he lost his father. While crossing a river, my grandfather, Devaki Nandan Bahuguna, died. My grandmother had died earlier. It was Devaki Nandan's widowed sister who brought up her nephew, my father. She was just 14.

My grandfather had left behind Rs. 700/- when he died. Wheat was sold 32 years a rupee. Therefore, Rs. 700 was quite a sum. This money plus the meagre output of the small land we possessed, enabled her to maintain the household for nearly three years. By the time my father 11, he was married to a girl of 9.

While still studying in the primary classes, the 11 year old son of Devaki Nandan was sppotted by Tara Dutt Uniyal of village Dhungari in Pauri for the eldest of his three daughters, Dipa. A Sanskrit teacher in a local school, Tara Dutt belonged to a traditionally high Class Brahmin family. His main consideration was that his daughters should be married in families of similar, if not higher, social standing. The fact that my father had lost both his mother and father, seems to have been sufficiently outweighed by his family background. Accordingly Dipa was married to Revati Nandan Bahuguna.

The ceremony of Dwiragaman (gauna) or entry into the husband's house took place next year when my father was just 12. Neither my father, nor my mother remembered the "saptapadi" of marriage they had undergone. As usual, it was a late night ceremony. Presumably, both of them performed the rites in slumberous conditions.

Tara Dutt Uniyal's second daughters was married to Narottam Dobhal who had completed his tenth class. Starting as a pakcer in the posts and telegraphs department, he rose to become the Assistant Post Master General.

Bahuguna and Dobhals figured in the top Class I Brahmins of this area. The other two believed to be in the same category were Uniyals and Dangwals.

Though poor otherwise, our family was supposed to be economically more privileged among the deprived. Secondly, it was rated very high in the generally reckoning of the Brahim families.

I do not know how my father and mother survived when Rs. 700 left behind by my grandfather, were exhausted.

But, something happened when my father attained the age of 14.

There were two streams of our family.

One consisted of Sanskrit scholars and astrologers. The other belonged to the service class. We were in the service group. My grandfather had been a Patwati. It was suggested to my father that the should seek audience with the Commissioner and introduce himself as the son of the late Patwarki Devaki Nandan Bahuguna.

The petition was granted. My father was appointed a Patwari. Patwaris used to enjoy some police powers also those days. My father was given a pair of handcuffs, a peon and a house He was a big man. During four decades of his career, he is said to have exercised his authority with ulmost restraint, compassion and goodwill. Only two murders were reported within his jurisdiction in the entire period. He had equipped himself so well that I myself saw on several occasion senior lawyers, panchayat heads and others coming to him for his advice. He passed away in 1970, thirty years after he had retired as a Kanungo.

Kirti was my eldest sister, followed by Dipa, Durga, Jayanti and the fifth who was shortlived.

There was general concern in the family circles that Revati Nandan had no son. The patriarchal character of our society ruled that there must be something wrong in his wife. He was advised to go in for another marriage He discussed the problem with the mother of the five daughters. Whether or not she could have influenced the decision, she gave her concurrence for the second marriage of her husband.

This time Revati Nandan would not figure in the consideration of the families belonging to the top four. But, there was no dearth of girls otherwise. A "Kala", whose financial status was also very poor and who was maintaining his family as a "perewala" *(a small sweet meat vendor) in Rudraprayag, offered his daughter who was around 15 and who was supposed to have crossed her normal marriageable age. He was happy that his daughter was going to a "High class" and "prosperous" family. Born in 1885, my father was 43 in 1928 when his second marriage took place. The desire to produce a son was considered to be a legitimate purpose. A second marriage, with the first wife still alive, was not common. But, it was not a taboo. And, if a deficiency in the first wife could be discovered, such as, not begetting a male child, the second marriage acquired additional social acceptance.

The traditional hostility to a "saut" gave way and the second wife of my father become a great favourite of the first, when the first wife conceived again and gave birth to a son, who was named Hemvati Nandan. My mother would often tell my second mother that "it is your entry in the house that I was able to overcome the stigma of a sonless woman". As long as my mother lived, she never allowed my second mother to go to the field and work there.

My second mother whom we called "Chhoti Ma" (younger mother) was also of a loving nature. She was very fond of us. She died in 1972, thirty eight years after I had lost my mother, Punna.

It is fascinating to recollect how my father had developed a social status so disproportionate to his living otherwise. He was no where near the definition of rich". At best, he was marginally better off then the starvation level cultivators. Jobwise, he was just a patwari with a limited awe and respectability attached to the post. Here again, the position could be said to be higher than the lowest. Evidently, the lowest was the chaprasi under this command.

And yet there used to be a regular flow of visitors of various levels seeking his guidance or verdict. Quite often, he was a one man panchayat. His first exhortation to the litigants used to be: Stick to truth if you want my help". On most occasions, after undergoing cross examination by my father, the parties would reconcile and come to terms. If necessary, my father would involve a few other knowledgeable and well meaning persons to act as jury. Perhaps, this was only to satisfy himself that his verdict was sufficiently sound both on facts and natural justice. No reference to any written law was considered necessary.

The range of disputes was a wide as one could imagine. For instance, who should be in possession or control of the government land facing the fields of two or more people. Such a public land was popularly called the property of Kaiser-e-Hind (the land of the king). Sometimes, it was difficult to determine the relative proximity. My father would consult some other senior villagers who had no interest in the land in question. When the verdict was pronounced, it was uniformly acceptable.

Besides property and other allied issues, there were personal problems to be resolved without being made public. A father comes and complains that his son has become defaint. The son seems to have his own side of the case. The partwariji summons the son and holds a private court. The dispute is settled.

Looking back, I am still amazed how he wielded such a tremendous influence. The way his writ was running signified a peculiar built-in mechanism for resolving conflicts. The society could not afford the present-day lengthy processes. Therefore, forums of law and justice, unconnected with any other superior authority, had sprouted in different places according to local convenience. This phenomenon in Bughani was represented by my father.

Presumably, heredity and the obligations arising out of dispending social justice, of course, within the limited parameters, had bestowed on my father an parameters, had bestowed on my father an elderliness unmatched by his age. Persons older than him enjoying higher position, would come to him for advice.

My father was very conscious that the stature acquired by him, should be reflected in his conduct otherwise also. His admirers and well wishers had ever right to share his material prosperity. Fortunately for him, his wife was even more large hearted. If it was tea time, everybody present will be served tea. The same rule would apply to the dinner. My mother would invariably cook more food but, the exact number of guests would be any-body's guess. The last minute visitor would not wait outside while others were taking food. He would join the dining line (there was not table) without knowing whether there was adequate food. There had been occasions when my mothers who were traditionally the last to eat went without food. But, this had becomes so conventional that no impropriety was attributed. It becomes part of his feudal aura. Therefore, there was on grumbling, no recrimination, no acrimony.

What happened at home, did not affect the requirements of his job as a patwari. He would pay full obeisance to his superiors and discharge all his duties, written and unwritten. Looking after the bosses especially the white skinned supremo, was an obligation as well as a privilege. The Commissioner of the district, Mr. Ibetson ICS, an Englishman, once wanted to go for fishing in a particular pond, called "Bihari Tal" at 14000 ft. Height. He was told "trout" will be available there. Mrs. Ibeton was also keen to join him. Mr. Ibetson was not sure if she would be able to scale such a height.

He consulted the knowledgeable patwari who gave the green signal. Aksed by Mr. Ibetson how would she climb this height, my father's reply was "she will follow you as the thread keeps the company of the needle".

The two of them were successful escorted by my father. The gesture shown by the patwari to the ICS big boss was amply rewarded. I will refer to it later.

Within his own circle, my father was feudal lord, of course, very generous and gentle. In relation to his superiors in the service, he was as humble and courterous as one could imagine. I was the source of considerable embarrassment to him on one occasion.

I was hardly 11 at that time. My father was going to report for duty at Punnar, a post between my village and Rudaprayag. Punnar was at a higher level. My father decided to walk on foot, asking me to utilise the service of the horse meant for him. At one point, the curve was so steep that one could not see the person coming form the other side. It happened to be the Deputy Comissioner Mr. Bhola Datt Pande arriving from Rudraprayag. As may father saw him he asked me to get down quickly form the horse. I declined.

He beseehed me, cajoled me: "Get down, my officer is coming. My sahab is coming".

There was no change in my conduct.

He shouted at me: "Get down. Sahab is coming".

My simple reply was: " He may be your sahab, not mine, why should I get down".

By the time my father could take recourse to other methods to get his order executed, the Deputy Collector and patwari were face to face with each other. My father repeated his command, I was in no mood to oblige him.

Mr. Pande asked my father: "How are you? What is the matter?"

My father apologetically said: " Sir, I am asking him to get down, he is not listening to me."

Hoping that I would respond to him in the presence of another person, my father asked me : " Salute the Sahab".

I replied instantly: "I will not. Why should I"?

Mr. Pande told my father: " Dont' bother, he is just a child".

Turning towards me, Mr. Pande asked "What is your name?".

As if bestowing a favour upon his, I replied indignantly" "Hemvati" Nandan Bahuguna".

"What is your father's Name"?

"Revati Nandan Bahuguan"?

"What is the name of your village".

"Bughani" was my answer in the same tone.

Mr. Pande looked at my father, gave him a reluctant smile and said: "Achcha (O.K.)I will not go. I had come this side for a surprise check of some villages. You get along."

We resumed our journey upwards, my father on the ground and I on the horseback. There was no communication between us for about two kilometers. I got a little panicky. The fear of my being beaten up propelled me to defuse the tension. I told my father remorsefully: "It seems I really committed a blunder."

My father made no comments.

I waited for a new seconds and asked my father" "was he really an officer:"

"Yes, a big officer".

" How big?"

Perhaps this question made him calculate the stairs of officialdom. He cooled down and said " he is quite big an officer he is the officer of his region in which we are living".

"Is there no officer above him?" I asked to make me udnerstand the system, he reeled out hte hierarchy of officers and said "the highest officer in the whole district is Commissioner. He is an Englishman. He is an ICS. A person becomes an ICS after passing a very special examination and then he qualifies for the highest service".

This prompted me to speak to myself within myself: "Hemvati Nandan, you have to attain that status. You must become an ICS. Then, you will not be required to get down from the horse."

This was sometimes in 1929.

Until the middle of 1936, I was haunted by the desire to become an ICS. I made the beginning by writing in my books. "Hemvati Nandan Bahuguna ICS".

As I grew I was told a good knowledge of English is the road leading a person to the destination of ICS. Proficiency in English became an obsession with me. Suddenly, the search for good English books drove me to a new world. The rebel in me germinating before the Deputy Collector in 1929 was reborn in an altogether different form. I stopped writing ICS after my name.

After I had landed on this earth, my mother gave birth to another son (Harshu) and one more daughter (Khushala).

The Chhoti Ma (second mother) contributed her share consisting of four sons (Naval, Santu, Mohan and Sohan)( and one daughter (Madhuri).

Thus, my two mothers together bore 13 children-six sons and seven daughters. Not all of them had their full innings. Some of them were knocked out to soon. This was the pattern of those days. The children were the girl good and He was free to take them away whenever. He wished. Human beings were at best the agencies to execute the divine desire. The concept of family planning had not been conceived.

Not only my father was treating the children of his two wives alike, the two mothers were equally non-discriminating. Outsides would not be easily able to discover who was whose child. The only catch was the children from the first mother would address their own mother as "Ma" and the second, mother would be called "Chhoti Ma" Correspondingly, the children of the second mother would call their own mother "Ma", while the first mother would be addressed as "Bari Ma". The father was "Pitaji" for all of us.

Perhaps, the biggest integrating factor of the family was my mother, the "Bari Ma". She conducted herself as the Mother Superior and made all sacrifies for her status. Her motherliness did not remain confined to her step children. It extended to the known and step children. It extended to the known and unknown remarkably. Looking back, it was nothing short of a miracle that an unlettered woman in a poor family of rural surrounding circumscribed by age-old notions reached such altutudes of compassion, commiseration and forbearance.

Let me recollect a few instances of her greatness.

As stated earlier, my father had become used to behaving like a lord at home. Whether or not the requisite supplies were available, he would invite everybody present to tea or dinner, as the case may be. This could not have continued on such a regular basis if he did not have the management support of my mother. In recognition of her greatness, my father had started calling her "Diwanji" (Prime Minister).

On one occasion, my sister grumbled that the people were endlessly walking into and out of the house as if it were a public thorough fare. In the processes, she had to go on sweeping the floor from morning till evening to keep it clean. The Diwanji was visible upset. She admonished here daughter for "they are atithi-devata, gods in the shape of guests. We just do not know whose feet bring fortune to us.".

My mother was not only the governor of the household, she was the decision maker for all social responsibilities and reciprocities. In the processes, she had developed such a rapport with the entire village that she was either "chachi", of "bhabhi" or some other relation of the local population. There was not a soul in the villages not related to her.

Her reflexes were very sharp. They would like care of the situation "beyond the immediate". Once a fire broke out in a neighbour's house. It was an extraordinarily chilly night in December or early January. The men folk were busy extinguishing the fire. My mother was busy collecting from her house the quilts and other material which could protect the victims form the cold. For her the most important task was protecting the survivors.

When I was nine, I was admitted to a school which was nearly a kilometer and a half down the hill. There was a serpentine bridal path to negotiate the distance which was full of thorny shrubs and busehes. These shrubs would cast away their worn out branches which would spread over the serpentine path at places. One of the first directives of my mother was "remove branches in a manner that you do not encounter them again".

Was It just to save me from the thorns.?

No. I discovered there was a blind person in the village who used to walk barefoot. He would not be able to see what is under his feet and he may be injured. My mother's son owed a duty to him.

It was not customary those days to educate the girls. My sister had also very little schooling. This did not affect their marriage prospects. When my sister Durga was to be married, a common friend suggested a timber merchant's son Jaya Villabh Khanduri. He had lost his father. His uncle was looking after business. They belonging to Pauri but had their business headquarter at Dehradun. They were know to be the richest in Dehradun. The only taxi registered i Dehradun as kept parked in their compound. The idea was no-body else be allowed to use it even if it was not needed by them. They kept it permanently engaged.

My sister's education had not gone beyond class II. She did not know a word of English. The Khanduris had adopted the English. The Khanduris had adopted the English way of life so much that they would not take.

My father had reservation about the proposal. The intermediary persuaded my father, saying your daughter will not have to do anything. Nobody works in that family.

After securing my father's concurrence, the intermediary sounded the Khanduri chief who agreed. His main consideration was the high class Brahmin Family to which the girl belonged.

When the marriage date approached, my father asked Mr. Maheshanand Dangwal, the friend, who had been acting as the intermediary to get the " shahpatta" (schedule of marriage) finalized. He asked Mr. Dangwal to keep in mind that we were poor people.

Mr. Dangwal dutifully conveyed it to the Khanduri chief who took airs and said. " I have full sympathies for the girl's father. Tell him we will send only the boy and the priest".

When this was communicated to my father who used to described Khanduri as "Maldar" (the moneyed fellow) in a derogatory fashion, my father's Brahminical arrogance was aroused. He asked Mahehsanand to tell Khanduri that the full barat (marriage party) should come The only condition is that every barati should come on a horse or "dandi" ( a sort of palanquin).

For the extra-rich Khanduris it was not a tall order. They organized 200 horses and dandis.

The news reached my father. He went to the Commissioner Mr. Ibetson and narrated every thing to him. Mr. Ibteson had been overwhelmed when my father had successfully taken him and his wife to Birahi Tal at 14000 ft. height for fishing. All the VIP tents, crockery, lamps and other things were placed at my father's disposal. It is said that was the first and the last wedding of its type in that area. NO charges had to be paid for the tents etc. But the arrangement made for 300 persons including "Sais" and 100 horses cost my father 20 years of idebtedness.

Incidentally, one of the few occasion When my father flouted the advice of my mother was in my sister's marriage. She had asked him not to exhibit his retaliatory talents, while dealing with the daughters prospective in-laws. This was not conducive to healthy relationship. My father through he must teach a lesson to those who were "Maldar", who had been blinded by their money. In the process, he invited financial crisis for himself. He taught the maldars some sort of lesson, but had to learn a good deal himself.

There are two side stories of this marriage syndrome. My father and others were busy entertaining the Khanduris and their guests, while my mother was very particularly that the saeeses, dandeewalas and other servants who had came with the barat, should be served the best food. I asked my mother to explain this peculiar anxiety of hers. She said the Khanduris are rolling in wealth. They can always go in for the best food anywhere. Let the servants feel they are being well looked after. It is they who are the test of hospitality.

The other story took a little longer to fructify. My mother succeeded in catapulating the outlook of my brother-law. In the beginning my sister (Durga) was very unhappy because she was a total stranger in the anglicised family. They wanted her to take food on the dinning table with knife and fork. They wanted her to speak English. The entire mannersim of the family was different. My mother managed to arrange the visit of her daughter along with her husband to our house for a few days. She cooked the best food for her son-in-law who had been taking food prepared by the servants. After he was impressed by the affection he received here, against the superficial behaviour of everybody in his own house, my mother persuaded him to give up the business of timber. She gave instances from his own house how his uncles were issueless because they had taken away the life of several young trees "It is a sin to cut tree. Trees have life. If you cut them, they curse you. Take up some other job and be happy. Happiness is more important than minting money".

The advice worked. Jayavallabh gave up timber business and started putting on Kurta Pyajama. Of his two sons, one is now a Major General in the army and the other has done his Ph.D. in Solid Physics.

The story of my mother and father will remain incomplete without the mention of a person who was technically an outsider, but who became a very important member of the household, enriching its complexion and content beyond anybody's comprehension.

It happened to be a girl of 16,a widow, virtually a destitute, who entered our village, sometimes after my grand father's death.

She belonged to some other village. When she lost her husband, the in-laws turned hositle. She was apparently in no position to return to her father's house. Meanwhile doubts were expressed about her chastity as a widow. She decided to commit suicide and left home to submerge herself into the ganga. She took a position to jump, but could not muster the courage to translate her intent. She waited on a hill top and finally gave up the desire to kill herself.

The question arose where to go and how to keep the body and soul together. Begging was no easy proposition. Loitering helplessly created other problems Her age was another hindrance.

While exploring the avenues of her existence, she came to Bughani. It seems some well meaning person of offered her shelter. She expressed her desire to stay in a family which had adult male member. My father which had no adult male member. My father was perhaps 12 or so at that time. His father's sister, herself a widow of about the same age, was running the household. She agreed to allow entry to her. Evidently, the adjustment worked so well that she became a permanent member. My grandfather's sister gave her the name "Gangotri". My father addressed her as "Bua" ( his father's sister). Thus, she got the same status as enjoyed by our father's real "Bua".

Correspondingly, for my mother, she became her mother-in-law (phuphia saas). Became he mother-in-law (phuphia saas). She became everybody's bua receiving full respect from us. On her part, she bestowed all her affection upon us. Notwithstanding the fact that my mother used to be in a commanding position in family affairs, Gangotri Bua influenced our life by her serene looks and behaviour imperceptibly. She was matchless in her own way. She had been rightly called "Gangotri".

She remained with us till her end in 1935. I had lost my mother in 1934.