Offtrack: Tuticorin: Magnificent Obsession

Offtrack

India Today, January 11, 1999
Jan 11, 1999

TUTICORIN
Magnificent Obsession

Social work has been a mission since the age of 14 for this retired librarian.

By L R Jagadheeshan

Students at the Tirunelveli Medical College will probably cut into P Kalyanasundaram's healthy body one day and rummage inside. This may sound macabre to many but that's the way the 60-year-old Kalyanasundaram wants it. That this frail, unassuming man in his khadi shirt and crumpled veshti has lived a life of philanthropy is no exaggeration. From offering his pocket money to needy friends as a 14-year-old, Kalyanasundaram has gone on to donate his earnings of 35 years (Rs 18 lakh), retirement benefit (Rs 10 lakh) and his share of family property (worth Rs 5 lakh) for social causes. In addition, of course, to pledging his body to the medical college for the benefit of students. The former librarian of Arulmigu Kumaragurubarar Arts College in Tuticorin district makes do with just six veshtis and khadi shirts and a pair of cheap sandals.

Apart from giving away all his earnings of 35 years to charity, P Kalyanasundaram has also pledged his body to a medical college after death.

Kalyanasundaram himself never suffered deprivation. Born into a rich agricultural family, he studied at St Xavier's College in Palayamkottai, where he was inspired by Mahatma Gandhi and the untiring social service of the Jesuit priests. There was one thing, however, that bothered him no end: his shrill feminine voice. "I even wanted to commit suicide," recalls Kalyanasundaram. It was then that he met Thamizhvaanan, writer of self-improvement books, whose advice he never forgot: "Don't bother about how you speak. Strive to make others speak good about you." He had found his calling: child welfare.

While an undergraduate at Madras University, Kalyanasundaram started the International Children's Welfare Organisation to help slum children. This was his initiation into social service. His resolve was strengthened in 1962. At the height of the Indo-China war, he made it to the columns of local newspapers when he donated his gold chain to the National Defence Fund. Kalyanasundaram thought the publication of the news in Ananda Vikatan, a popular Tamil magazine, would encourage more donations. But when he met the editor, S. Balasubramanian, he was dismissed as a publicity hound and challenged to prove his sincerity within five years. During this period, no one was to know about his charity work except the beneficiary. Kalyanasundaram agreed. He also decided to adopt Gandhi's prescriptions of self-denial and non-possession. Thus began a new phase in his life when he placed sacrifice above self.

Kalyanasundaram began by apportioning his salary as a college librarian: Rs 40 for personal expenses, Rs 100 for children's welfare. The five-year period soon ended but he did not stop. "I started enjoying social service and that became my life," he says. At one point, he decided to donate his entire salary and so worked as a waiter in a hotel to meet his needs. For many years, he lived on railway platforms to "personally experience the sufferings of the poor". The anonymous good Samaritan worked thus for 27 years.

In 1990, however, the truth was out. When the University Grants Commission gave him over Rs 1 lakh as arrears of his salary, Kalyanasundaram gave it to the district collector for the higher education of orphans. Though he didn't want it to be publicised, the collector gave it wide coverage in the media. It was only then that his life's work was noticed. Recognition in the form of a spate of awards followed. He has also won many awards in Library Science. The United Nations recognised him as one of the outstanding people of the century, while the International Biographical Centre at Cambridge selected him as one of the most notable intellectuals of the world. At all awards ceremonies, Kalyanasundaram is wont to give away the trophies and the prizes to children present in the audience.

Kalyanasundaram today runs Paalam (bridge), the first ever donor-receiver social service mission in the state. It connects donors -- contributing money or blood, clothes or books -- with the needy. And the old man revels in his role. "I've no regrets about my choice in life," he smiles. "I am happy." So are the thousands of children whose wishes for either a toy or money to pay school fees or just food to eat have been granted.

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