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dedicate
to my revered Guru and Principal, of
ex-THE ORIENT STENOTYPE INSTITUTE,
Temple Main Road, Nada,
Irinjalakuda,late Sri S R S Mani Iyer,
father of Vijayan/Jayaraman.
" In life, it is important to move
ahead and embrace modernity, but it is
equally important to respect the roots
and traditions "
That is what came to my mind , when I
read an article published in a Bombay
newspaper recently. It was about the
typewriter, once a sacred (to me)
inevitability in offices , along with
presumably less important file drawers
and steel almirahs !
But the official phasing out of the
typewriter struck me as revolutionary a
move as the one that brought it in.
 It
has now become official. With all
things old giving way to the new, the
typewriter is to be a thing of the past
in the government offices in India.
The computer has steadily been replacing
the typewriter in most offices. Just a
few days ago, the Indian Government
announced that the typing test would now
be administered on the computer. So it
is curtains for the typewriter. Truly
end of an era. And what an era it has
been!
I started with the manual typewriter,
went on to the electric and then
electronic typewriters , and finally
ended with the computer during a span of
over four decades. Meanwhile, I ‘grew’
from a mere typist to a steno-typist, to
a Stenographer to a Secretary and
finally ended as a Personal Assistant.
I go back to the early years. The
British had vision. They knew that some
day Tamil Brahmins and Malayalees would
escape their States and come to Mumbai,
mispronounced by a bad dictator as
“Bombay” !! They would need a skill to
survive in the metropolis. So, was sent
Robert Clive first and McCaulay
later, to market English and shorthand
! I wonder why their pictures are not
among the pantheon of deities on the
walls of the puja rooms in Mumbai
Chennai and back home in Kerala.
Even when I was working on computer, I
had a manual typewriter somewhere in a
corner of my table. My boss was
allergic to the rattling of typewriter
and he asked me once to get rid of it. I
did not, because I thought one day in
an emergency , “she” will be useful to
me.
And, . it happened. Due to heavy
rains, our office building was cut off
from Flora Fountain. . Our office
building looked
like an
anchored luxury cruiser When I
stepped into
the cruiser, I could see the
Managing Director of our electric
companies rolling up sleeves and
trousers to go into the basement to give
directions to the electricians and
engineers to restore power. He suddenly
saw me and told “ Skandan, I don’t know
how you are going to do it. I want you
to paste a notice on the main entrance
door to say that my employees working in
this building, should report to another
divisional office opposite Victoria
Terminus Building.”
That building
had managed to keep its head well above
the water level
Power shut down, everything
was dark, lift was not working and my
office was on the fourth floor . I
managed to get out and from a little
wet
shop ( the vendor had nowhere to go) got
two big candles. I walked up to the
fourth floor, lit the candles, and
prayed . to ‘her’ ..”Devi, this is your
best chance
to show your
power
; please help”.
I managed somehow to type the notice
and was about to paste on the main door
when the big boss arrived. He asked me
“ Skandon, what are you doing “ ? I
explained the whole situation.
I did not hesitate to remind him that he
had advised me to throw it away. The
gentleman that he was, he patted me with
a smile.
I compare a typewriter to our cotton
textile industry which is the mother of
all other industries in India. Take
for instance, Tatas, Birlas, Mafatlals,
Shrirams and today’s many big corporate
companies all started with textiles and
then diversified to other industries.
As we all know, the textile industry is
finished in India, except in the
Manchester of South India, Coimbatore.
I remember a
friend of mine arguing “but mother dies,
and children move on” Does it mean that
the dead and useless are forgotten? Or
should we look to learn from them and
remember them for those learnings
gratefully? Old may not glitter, but it
may still be Gold!
Jai
Hind
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K.D. Skandan, Mumbai