Those were the days: Jayarajan’s TOTTENHAM BIBLE
View(s):“Well,” Paul Marcus Jayarajan said, handing me a huge tome. “This is the Tottenham Manual of Office Procedure. I will be testing you on this from time to time.” This was my first day of work (6th November 1958), and I had just reported to my ultimate boss – Paul Marcus Jayarajan, formidable Secretary of the Central Bank. I had been rather upset by his “no nonsense” attitude during my interview about a month earlier, and now, his statement, “No one goes through my Department without shedding a few tears,” only reinforced my anxiety. But even as I stood there in his mezzanine floor office not knowing where to go, he instructed one of his clerks to escort me to the Secretariat and introduce me to the Head of Department.
| These anecdotal sketches combine the writer’s tribute to the men who guided the destinies of the Central Bank and her personal encounters with four such luminaries – Paul Marcus Jayarajan, Sir Arthur Ranasinha, Dr. W M Tilakaratna and A .S. Jayawardena. The narrative is also intended to depict their humanity, simplicity and sense of humour set against the backdrop of their high office and accomplishments. Today we publish the first in a series of four articles.
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Established in 1950, the Central Bank of Ceylon was the quintessential banker’s Banker and financial adviser to the Government. An incomparable institution in those halcyon days, the Bank had a sort of palpable vibrancy matching the galaxy of personalities under whom we were privileged to work. We were a mixed bunch, the “crème de la crème” from the high schools and enjoyed a sense of camaraderie that transcended age, status and experience.The key departments and divisions were housed at Hemas Building, Colombo Fort, with the exception of the Exchange Control Department which was at Echelon Barracks – a military relic from World War II.
Coming back to my encounter with Jayarajan, I doubt I ever shed tears in his presence; but knowing that I was a trifle overwhelmed by the man, one of my colleagues assured me that Jayarajan’s gruff exterior actually masked a warm and fuzzy heart. To say I was highly skeptical is a gross understatement, that is, until one memorable day. It was Jayarajan’s birthday and the Secretariat staff contributed towards a collective birthday gift – a baby’s lacy woollen coat, a pair of booties and a bonnet to match. Assuring us that this was exactly what he wanted, Jayarajan promised us a treat at tea time. Tea was served but instead of cake, we all got a spoonful of minuscule multi-coloured candy called hundreds and thousands (or “meebeti seenibola”). That was the sum total of our treat! We were speechless when Jayarajan strolled into our office a little while later, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
A member of the illustrious Paul family, Jayarajan’s father, Dr. S C (Samuel Chelliah) Paul, was a leading surgeon. Of his six brothers, two followed in their father’s footsteps – Dr. A.T. S. Paul, a renowned cardiothoracic surgeon and Dr. Milroy Paul, Professor of Surgery. Jayarajan, however, opted to become a Barrister at Law. Referring to Jayarajan’s stint as a District Magistrate in the Imperial Indian Civil Service (ICS), former Deputy Governor, Edmund Eramudugolla, writes that Jayarajan, “administered an area about half the size of Ceylon and a bigger population…” During this time he married an aristocratic Indian lady, who, in due course was dubbed “Maharani” by the Bank staff.
When India attained Independence in 1947, Jayarajan was allowed the option to retire from the ICS with compensation for loss of career. On his return to Ceylon, he served as the Colombo Municipal Commissioner prior to assuming office as Secretary, Central Bank in 1951. Jayarajan’s resignation from Bank service in July 1959 was to take up appointment as the Attorney General of Uganda. He was the Assistant Governor of the Bank at that time. The Secretariat staff gave him a rousing send off, with singing and dancing and toasts and good wishes; and when I began to sing the poignant “Jamaican Farewell” Jayarajan led the chorus:
“But I’m sad to say, I’m on my way,
Won’t be back for many a day.
My heart is down, my head is turning around
I had to leave a little girl in Kingston town.”I remembered what he said to me that no one goes through his Department without shedding a few tears. This time around, it was Paul Marcus Jayarajan who had tears in his eyes as he wished each of us an emotional “Goodbye.”
However, even as he began his tenure in Uganda, he was only too aware of the Indo-phobic rhetoric that was gathering momentum. This political instability combined with a personal crisis in his life, when his only son, Ananda, died in a motor accident in Uganda, compelled him to return to Sri Lanka, well before Idi Amin expelled the Indian communities living in that country.
(The writer can
be reached at
toniethirupathy@gmail.com. Catch up with more anecdotes of life at the Central Bank
in ‘those halcyon days’
next week)