Poverty, a Luxury

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Can I claim I was brought up in impoverished conditions? Yes… and no.

No—because I’ve seen people who came from far more difficult financial situations.

Yes—because we were certainly not middle class. At best, we called ourselves lower middle class, and even that felt aspirational at times.

🌾 

Before 1969 – The Early Days

When our father was with us, we lived in Hutti Gold Mines, near Raichur in North Karnataka. My brother and I were privileged enough to study at Bishop Cotton Boys’ School in Bangalore—an elite boarding institution - a convent school.

But life changed overnight with his untimely death. My mother, fiercely independent and resilient, chose to raise her two boys without relying on anyone, even though it meant facing economic hardship.

Our maternal uncles helped her plan finances wisely, guiding her toward frugality and self-reliance. Thus began our new life.

🏠 

1969–1975 – A New Life Begins

After a brief stay at my uncle’s home, my mother rented a small outhouse—once a cowshed—from a spirited freedom fighter named Smt. Muthubai Manay. For ₹60 a month, we had a humble home (20 ft X 10 ft) divided by a curtain: a living space with an old sofa set, a private space with cot, a Godrej bureau, a Pooja corner, and a kitchen with granite floor and a smoky bathroom with a firewood boiler (ಸೌದೆ ಒಲೆ ಮತ್ತು ಹಂಡೆ).

I was pulled out of the convent and admitted to Sri Saraswati Vidya Mandir (SSVM). I remember walking in on my first day—still wearing my Bishop Cotton blazer.

💰 The Blow of Bank Nationalisation

My mother’s carefully planned finances, relying on fixed deposit interest from both public and private banks, were shaken when Indira Gandhi nationalised all banks. Interest rates fell, inflation soared (~20%), and our modest income collapsed.

It was the most difficult financial phase of my life.

To support the household, I started renting out my comic books under the name Sri Saraswati Library. I once bought a kilogram of ragi for 20 paise and ground it for 5 paise, and we ate ragi mudde with neer majjige (buttermilk).

📚 

Scholarships, Struggles & Lessons

Despite it all, I did well in my 7th standard public exam—and got into National High School (NHS) with a free-ship and scholarships supported by kind alumni.

I’ll never forget when my brother was punished by our PT master for not wearing white sports shoes. Later, the teacher discovered our situation and became sympathetic.

During this time, I tutored younger children and even sold washing soap door-to-door on a cycle. These experiences instilled the dignity of labour, value of money, and above all, ethics and honesty—deeply influenced by my maternal uncle.

🔥 

Politics and Poems in Turbulent Times

The 1975 Emergency shook the nation. Our civics teachers whispered lessons about democracy. I wrote my first Kannada poem during this period, a reflection of anger and idealism:

ಕೇಳೋ  ಪುಡಾರಿ

ಸಾರಿ ಸಾರಿ ಹೇಳುತಿರುವೆ ಬದಲಾಯಿಸಿರಿ ದಾರಿ।

ಗಿಟ್ಟಿಸುವುದಾದರೇನು ಮಾನ ಮರ್ಯಾದೆಯನು ಮಾರಿ॥

ಹಿಟ್ಟಿಲ್ಲದಾ ಹೊಟ್ಟೆ, ಮೈ ಮುಚ್ಚದಾ ಬಟ್ಟೆ।

ಇವಿಶ್ಟೇ ಆಸ್ತಿಯಾಗಿರುವ ಅಸ್ತಿಗಳನು ನೋಡಿ॥

ಮರುಕ ಬಾರದೆ ನಿಮಗೆ ತಿರುಕ ಬಾಂಧವರ ಕಂಡು।

ರಸದೌತಣ ಮಾಡುವಿರಲ್ಲ ಅವರ ಪ್ರಾಣವ ಹಿಂಡಿ॥

ನಿಮ್ಮ ಖುರ್ಚಿಗಳಿಗೆ ಅವರ ಕಾಲ ಕತ್ತರಿಸಿ।

ಕೈಯ್ಯೂರಿ ಒರಗಿ ಕೂರಲು, ಕೋಮುಗಳ ಬೆಳಸಿ॥

ನಿಮ್ಮ ಚದುರಂಗಾಟದಲಿ ಅವರ ಸಿಪಾಹಿಮಾಡಿ।

ಬೇಕೆಂದಾಗ ಬಲಿ ಕೊಡುವ ನಿಮಗೆ,

ಸಾರಿ ಸಾರಿ ಹೇಳುತಿರುವೆ  ಬದಲಾಯಿಸಿರಿ ದಾರಿ।

ಗಿಟ್ಟಿಸುವುದಾದರೇನು ಮಾನ ಮರ್ಯಾದೆಯನು ಮಾರಿ॥

The revolution in my soul found expression in poetry. Though I was drawn toward leftist ideologies in the beginning, a challenge from a cousin landed me in the fold of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS). That experience shaped my worldview and ignited a fierce sense of nationalism.

No secret that poverty mixed with idealism is a potent mixture for revolutionary mindset. 

Despite my distractions, I scored reasonably well in SSLC—ranked 47th state wide, earning the prestigious National Merit Scholarship (NMS). That helped me in partly funding my education.

🏛️ 

1978–1980 – National College Days

Politics dominated these two years. I lived in "khadi jubba", hand-me-down pants, and carried a jhola (cloth hanging bag)—signs of an “intellectual.” 

Poverty gave company and I practiced math and chemistry on the Kadappa stone (Black coloured stone) floor with chalk, wiping it clean with cloth to reuse. Well-wishers even donated one-sided printed computer paper sheets.

The Rajasthan Youth Association, a charity organisation helped with textbooks, which I borrowed for the year and returned. It was a blessing.

Still, despite my academic dip due to activism, I scored just enough to get a seat at BMS College of Engineering.

⚙️ 

1980–1985 – Engineering & Ideals

These years saw my deepest political involvement. I actively campaigned for the BJP, was deeply rooted in RSS ideology. My academics took a back seat, but the dream to change the world burned bright.

Poverty never left us. I applied for every scholarship and free-ship to fund my education. One experience at a respected religious institution stands out: I was humiliated with pejorative remark by a “Swami” for seeking a scholarship. That moment seared itself into memory—and I walked away with my dignity intact refusing to apply for that scholarship.

It taught me that poverty builds character—and that self-respect isn’t something you bargain away.

🌟 

The Wealth Within Poverty

Somewhere along the way, I stopped being ashamed of our poverty. I began wearing it as a badge of honour.

Poverty taught me:

• Frugality over extravagance
• Contentment alongside ambition
• The difference between true friends and relatives
• That ethics matter more than status

I’ll never glorify poverty. But I will say: it was the greatest teacher I ever had.

💬 

Closing Thoughts – Wisdom from Subhashitas

I end with two quotes that funnily contradicts me:

यस्यास्ति वित्तं स नरः कुलीनः

स पण्डितः स श्रुतवान् गुणज्ञः।

स एव वक्ता स च दर्शनज्ञः

सर्वे गुणाः काञ्चनमाश्रयन्ति॥

“The one who is endowed with wealth is deemed noble, wise, virtuous, and even handsome. All virtues follow wealth.”

पीताम्बरं धरति यो जनकप्रियायाः

सा लक्ष्मीः अपि च जनः तं उपैति भक्त्या।

बिभ्रत् च गजचर्म धूम्रवर्णं भस्म

श्रीशैलमौलिशशिनं न जनो न लक्ष्मीः॥

Vishnu wears gold (Pitambara), Shiva wears elephant skin (Charmambara) and smeared with ash.

Both are divine. One attracts wealth (Lakshmi), the other is relegated to cemetery. What we wear matters in the society. alluding to the dressing sense.

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