S Viswanathan

Viswanathan (SV) received his grooming in two reputed colleges in Chennai. His Intermediate was at the Jesuits institution, Loyola, and his Honors in Mathematics was at the Hindu monastery, Vivekananda. It was during this time that SV cut his teeth in social work and public speaking: organizing meetings with political leaders, attending music sessions, carrying out street cleaning, and enhancing civic amenities.

Around that time, Prof K R Sundararajan of the Indian Institute of Engineering Technology (IIET) roped Viswanathan to handle mathematics, first at Jayanthi Tutorial College and later at IIET. The young man took to teaching like a duck to water. It soon led him to a two-year stint at one of Asia’s oldest colleges, the 125-year-old Madras Christian College. The large campus with its electrifying ambiance and the vast library enticed him to acquire a second post-graduate degree, this time in Political Science.

For a 24-year old, the bespectacled middle-class lad was doing exceptionally well. His salary: Rs 126 a month. An additional Rs 10 came from being the deputy warden of the college hostel. IIET paid him Rs 200. In the weekends the resourceful man offered tuition to students from Malaysia and Sri Lanka and picked Rs 150. The grand total was Rs 486, a princely sum in those days. Very soon, he gave these up to pursue a hitherto unknown passion. It turned out to be his calling, his reason for existence.

A chance encounter with poet Krishna Srinivas (KSri) changed Viswanathan’s destiny. KSri published a hand-composed journal, Indian Industries. The magazine fascinated SV so much that he offered to work pro bono. After some days, he told the publisher he would leave his job at the college and manage both the press and the magazine. KSri was only too happy with the offer.

Thus during the summer of 1962, SV took charge of KSri’s business.

The honeymoon didn’t last long. The office employed a lazy attendant who never showed up on time. Within weeks of taking over, SV sacked the orderly. The owner wasn’t too pleased and gently nudged that SV could be on his own. The idea of becoming an editor and publisher appealed to the former deputy warden. Supported both by his parents and an elder brother who was with the Railways, SV plunged headlong into uncharted territory. The young man broke the news to his uncle, a successful businessman. “I have left teaching and started a paper.” The much-concerned elder asked, “the excitement is fine, but what are you going to do for a living?” Touché.

xIn May that year, the journalist was invited for an interview in Dehradun for an officer’s job at the Indian Air Force. It consisted of a written examination of the MCQ mode, physical fitness assessment that included rope transfer and climbing, and a few leadership tests. Summer was at its peak, the throat parched, and food was entirely north Indian. Little wonder, the man from Madras didn’t have an appetite, and in fact, lost a bit of his already slim weight during those three days!