In the event, my mother's faith was justified. It was, she doubtless felt, in answer to her prayers and poojas that the Diwan (Administrator) of Aundh State, Jacob Bapuji, wrote a letter to my father. This letter brought the happy news that the funds sanctioned by the late Rajasaheb and frozen at his death, had now been released and that my father could proceed to complete the construction work which he had to suspend in 1901. Not only had Jacob Bapuji been largely instrumental in getting that money released, but with his unrivalled knowledge of the little State and its ruling family, he was presently able to secure the Government of India's approval to the succession of my father's old friend Balasaheb as Raja of Aundh. On receipt of Jacob Bapuji's letter, we left Belgaum and went back to Aundh. It was during our stay there, in 1906, that my brother Rajaram was born.

Here let me say a word about this able Jew, who was one of the tiny Ben-e-Israel community living in western Maharashtra, where they farm land and distinguish themselves in Government service, speaking Marathi and English with equal fluency.

Jacob Bapuji was a fairly senior officer of the Bombay Government, whose services had been lent to Aundh State as Administrator. He and his family, like the upper-class Christians, Anglo-Indians and Parsees of those days, followed Western styles and manners in their daily life. His children with whom I used to play, addressed their parents as "Pappa" and "Mamma". I liked the sound of these names, which I now began to use towards my own parents. (This, incidentally, is the origin of the affectionately respectful "Papa" and "Mama" - pronounced according to the speaker's own Indian language - by which my parents soon came to be called by one and all and by which they are still lovingly remembered).