It's Easy to Cry
Page 8
Two weeks later, I called him to arrange another outing. He told me that he would like to go out again but he was undergoing chemotherapy and that made him very tired. He said that as soon as he’d finished the course and was feeling better, he would call me to have one more drink. Feeling very troubled as I felt that I would not see my friend again, I said, “Sure, I’ll wait for your phone call.”
A few days’ later, I had a phone call from Sim Yong Chan telling me that Francis’ son had called to say that Francis had passed away. Although I knew how sick Francis was, it was still a shock to hear of his passing. I had been looking forward to spending more time with him after his chemotherapy. I had to take it as another blow in my lifetime. It shattered me. So many beautiful memories flooded my mind and I couldn’t hold back my tears for a dear beloved friend. Francis Yeo played an important part in my life especially during our university days. There was nothing I could do.
I went early in the morning with Sim Yong Chan to the chapel where his body was lying. With an aching heart, I looked at him, prayed for his soul and left. I never went back there for the evening wake, neither did I attend the funeral because I knew that I would not be able to take it. I didn’t want to break down and cry in front of so many people. To me, Francis Yeo will always be an inspiration. A man full of courage, determination and, foremost of all, passion for his fellow human beings. I wish that there were more Francis Yeos in this world.
Throughout my career as a practising lawyer, spanning more than 40 years, I have come across many types of people, so much so that nothing surprises me anymore. Whatever you have to tell me about a certain event, I will not be surprised because I have seen how people behave and the things they do for their personal agendas.
I have come across many crooks, many conmen, many vicious people who find it easy to inflict pain — some neardeath — on others. But some of the biggest crooks are the lawyers themselves!
I say this with great regret because ours is supposed to be a very noble profession. But there are lawyers who have destroyed for their own personal gain, lawyers who have run away with clients’ money, lawyers who have cheated their clients by telling them lies, and lawyers who have forged documents to convince clients that they are doing their work. The worst was the lawyer who took money from a poor old widow, ran away with it and spent it on gambling, leaving this poor lady in a very hopeless plight. Then there are the lawyers who won’t take anybody’s money, who won’t cheat you but would pretend to be noble and do a lot of pro bono work not for the sake of the accused person but for the sake of their own publicity. They are not genuine people.
Pro bono has been abused as a cover and I detest those who do that because pro bono is such a noble thing to do.
I have done a lot of pro bono work from the time I started my practice, never boasted about it, never got much publicity out of it. But every time when I see some people being interviewed regarding their pro bono work, I laugh because even the Government is coming into the picture. They had considered forcing all lawyers to do pro bono work. Pro bono is something that comes from your heart. You should have the desire to help. It should not be forced upon you. The authorities don’t realise this. The moment you force pro bono on lawyers, you take away the meaning of pro bono. Those who are genuinely concerned and do pro bono also will be classified as people who have to do it because they have been told to do so.
SEVENTEEN
HOW I STARTED PRACTICE
Some time in 1970, my family had to move from the British Naval Base because my father stopped working for the British Government. We moved into Kampong Wak Hassan, a Malay village where we bought a house to stay.
Before my father retired, his boss said to him, “I don’t know why you want to stay in that place when your daughter is a doctor and your son is a lawyer. It’s not right for you to stay there.” My father who was more concerned about collecting his salary and bonus, said, “Fair enough, but what about my salary? According to the contract, you have to give me one more month of salary?” His boss said “No,” without explaining further.
Anyway, we had already decided we would leave and so, we left the Base. We settled down in a single storey bungalow on Temporary Occupation Licence land in Kampong Wak Hassan, surrounded by Malays. We made a lot of new Malay friends. Our immediate neighbour was an Indian family.
One of the first things I did when I became a lawyer was to engage the British authorities. I wanted them to pay my father the one-month’s salary due to him. I received a response from Drew & Napier telling me that they were taking instructions. Later, they rang me up and said, “What if we don’t pay? Who are you going to sue? Do you know it’s not easy to sue the British Government under the Crown Proceedings Act?” I said, “I will find a way to help my father. Besides, it’s not fair to cheat my father of his S$360, which was his monthly salary. I think, after sacrificing so many years for the British, this is not the way to say goodbye. He should not be cheated of his dues.”
Even if I were to lose the case, it didn’t matter. The public would be able to see what sort of an employer the British Government was. After about two weeks, I received a cheque for $360 issued to my father. I handed the cheque promptly to him. He was so pleased. He wanted to keep the cheque as a souvenir but later decided to cash it after taking a photocopy of it. When his friends learnt that we managed to recover the money, they wanted me to help them to recover theirs as well. I said, “No, I think my father is lucky because the lawyer from Drew & Napier seems to be an understanding man and he realised that the person is my father. I don’t think I will be able to succeed for you people.” As it would be, they engaged other lawyers who wrote to the British authorities. Drew & Napier replied on their instructions to act. Regrettably, they informed my father’s friends that the British Government was not paying anything.
For my father, this was a sweet victory even though the amount was small. He went around the neighbourhood, proudly sharing with friends, “Look, my son, the lawyer, got this money for me. He has taken on the big British Crown. They were scared.” He added a lot of spice to his story.
To process the title deed to the Kampong Wak Hassan house, my father engaged the services of a lawyer called MPD Nair, formerly a minister in the Lim Yew Hock cabinet. He was then the lawyer for most Malayalees in Singapore. My father told me to see him. “Can you go down to town? Please see this lawyer, Mr MPD Nair, to collect the title deed because the lawyer has been sending us letters.” Naturally, I agreed to do so. I went to Mr MPD Nair’s office which was in Winchester House on Collyer Quay. It was a very dingy old building but there were many law firms there.
He came out of his office and asked me, “Are you the son who is the lawyer, who has just been called to the Bar?” I replied, “Yes.” He seemed very pleased and said, “Please come in, please come in.” So I went into his room and while I had a cup of coffee, he asked me what my plans were. I replied, “I do not know. I’ve already got a place in Cooper Brothers to do my Chartered Accountancy and I am just toying with the idea whether I should or should not take it.” He said, “Well, it looks like a very good combination but it’s a tough course. I do not know whether you will able to stay in England without being homesick?” With that, we both laughed.
He told me, “Look, if you ever need a place to practise, come to my office.” As he pointed across his room, he added, “I have an empty desk over there. You can start a small practice from here.” I thanked him for his offer and went back with the title deed.
Coincidentally, my friend, SK Ho, got into trouble with the authorities for vandalism and that was my first case. I needed to apply for my practising certificate and I needed an office. So I went to see Mr Nair and told him, “Sir, I may need your premises for a little while because my friend is in trouble and I am engaged to defend him.” Happily he replied, “The offer is still open. The desk is over there. You can sit in the same room as me and do whatever you want to do.” I said, “OK,” and thanked him.<
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In 1971, I started my firm “Subhas Anandan, Advocate & Solicitor” from Mr Nair’s premises. His firm was known as MPD Nair, Advocate & Solicitor. He did not want to take any rent from me. All he said was, “Just pay for your own telephone.” I was a bit surprised because lawyers are known to charge even their own colleagues for anything. Mr MPD Nair (Mr Nair, as I respectfully referred to him) said to me, “I do not want to take anything from you. I just want to wish you well. Stay here as long as you want.”
As my practice improved, I forgot the idea of going to London to do Chartered Accountancy. I remained on the premises and became quite close to Mr Nair. I found him an exceptional man, who was not proud as a man or as a lawyer. He was honest and compassionate. In many ways, he was very kind and many people took advantage of his kindness. I remember one particular incident when a man approached him for money to buy a coffin for his deceased mother. The same man did that to him three times and each time his response to me was, “We must always give the other person the benefit of the doubt. This could really be the actual situation now.”
I learnt a lot from him, most particularly, understanding how people think. This is a man who was once a Cabinet minister and today, he’s sitting in a dingy old office, still practising law with a compassion that so far I have not seen in anybody. Not only did he become a dear friend, he became a sort of mentor; whenever I asked him something which I am not familiar with, he would do his best to help me.
In late January 1976, when I was wrongfully arrested and detained, Mr Nair often came to see me in prison. He was the only person whom I had to console while everybody else came to console me. This was because, whenever Mr Nair came, I would always see his eyes glistening with tears. He would always tell me, “This is not right. What they are doing to you is not right.” I would reply, “What can we do Mr Nair? We’ve got to accept all that is happening.” Then I would shake his hand each time. Sometimes he would sit there for ten to 20 minutes, just looking at me. He felt helpless and each time as he got up to leave, I would always tell him, “You are a busy man, Mr Nair. You don’t have to come any more.” He would always insist, “No, no, no, I will always come and visit you.” I thought, “This is a man whom I met by chance because of some title deed and now he has become so close to me.”
Mr MPD Nair at his office in International Plaza, Anson Road. The photograph on the right was taken two weeks before he passed away suddenly on 15 January 1989.
When I was released from prison in mid-November 1976, I went back to the office. He asked me what my plans were. I said to him, “I really do not know what my plans are, Mr Nair, as I am so confused that I don’t know what to do.” But I knew one thing for sure. I would fight this government and this oppressive law. I had noticed while in prison, laws had been abused by the police and others in authority. He looked at me and said, “Don’t get into any further trouble.” I assured him, “Yes, I will not.”
He looked at me again and asked if I would like to be his partner. I said, “Mr Nair, everybody is shunning me like an untouchable because of the stigma of having been to prison and being known as the antiestablishment man and you are offering me partnership? Are you sure you know what you are talking about?” Reassuringly, he replied, “I am sure.” He said, “I know who you are. The few years that you have been here, I know your character. I am making this offer very sincerely.”
Feeling quite pleased, I asked him, “What is the percentage going to be as your partner?” He replied, “50-50.”
With a smile on my face, I exclaimed, “That’s fair enough!” He said he would change the name to MPD Nair & Subhas Anandan. I rejected the offer of the name and instead suggested to rename it MPD Nair & Co. I also told him that even though we were 50-50 partners, I didn’t mind him taking a little bit more of the profit because he was married and had three children while I was a happy-go-lucky bachelor who didn’t need much money. He was touched by my gesture and said, “We’ll see.”
In time, the partnership became stronger with greater trust and understanding. Eventually, I brought more partners into the firm. Mr Nair however felt that he was not pulling his weight as he was getting old and his clients were not really very significant people. I said to him, “Please don’t do anything rash. You are still going to be a senior partner and you will remain in this firm.” I managed to convince him that he was very useful to the image of the firm. He agreed and we went on as partners till the day he passed away suddenly in January 1989.
In the process of meeting him, I met his father-in-law, Mr VK Nair, a very enterprising man. I also got to meet Mr MPD Nair’s sister-in-law, Vimala, whom I married later and became a part of their big happy family of 11 siblings. Two of Mr MPD Nair’s three children read law. Both of them did their internship and pupilage under me. Like their father, his two children who did law were quite reliable where work was concerned.
In all my years of practice, I have yet to find someone able to match up to Mr MPD Nair, who was kind and compassionate. We shared the same values and sentiments in the way we practised law. I feel that I have done my duty by passing on his values in practice to his son, Kesavan (Kesi), who was eager to learn the ways of his father’s style of practice. He is now doing well for himself.
When Mr Nair died, I was already married to Vimi and we were staying in the same neighbourhood, just two blocks from each other. On that fateful day, we received a phone call and rushed to his home. Sadly, he was already gone by the time we got there. He had difficulty breathing that morning which led to a heart attack. I was at a loss; I didn’t know what to do.
Suddenly I was head of the firm, with lawyers and staff to worry about. I also had to think about Mr Nair’s family and I tried my best to keep the firm that carried his name going in the hope that some day his children could take over the legacy he left behind. But sadly, it was not meant to be as I was falling ill and his children were still young in practice and were unable to keep the firm.
EIGHTEEN
MPD NAIR, JBJ AND THE NCMP SCHEME
Mr MPD Nair was Minister for Communications and Works in the Lim Yew Hock government. When the PAP government took over in 1959, he left for London to read law. After Mr Nair returned from London, he started his practice immediately in 1963. Politics was still in his blood. He joined the Workers’ Party where JB Jeyaretnam (JBJ) was Secretary-General.
In one particular deposition, sometime in the 1970s, JBJ and I were jointly representing the defendants — he for one party and I for the other. Howard Cashin was for the plaintiff. JBJ called a few lawyers as his witnesses and after he had finished cross-examining them, it was my turn. My cross-examination of these witnesses was much more effective in bringing out the truth. In fact, one of the lawyers who was himself a witness came back the next day and said, “You know, Mr. Anandan, I went back and thought about what you said and I think you are right. Maybe what I said in court was not right.” It took a great man to admit that he could have made a mistake, and that man was Mr C Arul. We became very close friends after the case. He invited me for lunch to tell me how much he appreciated the way I cross-examined him. Eventually, the case was settled.
Years later, JBJ was charged for criminal offences. He told Mr Nair that he was going to engage a Queen’s Counsel (QC) from London to defend him. In the meantime, he wanted Mr Nair to speak with me and to ask me to defend him and hold the fort. Mr Nair asked him, “Why? He is so young and you have so many older lawyers in your Party.” He replied, “I know, but I am impressed with him and want him to become my defence counsel.”
So Mr Nair told me that he wanted me to defend his friend, JBJ. I said “No, don’t get me involved. This is going to be very complicated and consequences can be very drastic. I don’t think I want to get involved.”
But Mr Nair was faithful to his friend and would not take no for an answer. Every day he would come and leave on my desk authorities, cases that he researched for me to read for the defence of JBJ. Papers were piling up.
/> One day, I walked over to his room and said, “Mr Nair, what is it that you want me to do? You have cluttered my table with all your authorities, some relevant, some not relevant. What is it you want me to do?” He replied, “Subhas, this man needs to be defended. He is my friend. He is the Secretary-General of the Party. I am his bailor. He wants you to defend him and I said you would. So can you look at it as helping me?”
Hearing his request in that manner, I couldn’t say no to him. I said, “OK, I will, on one condition. Please stop putting authorities on my table.” He laughed and said, “Alright, Subhas. Thank you.” That was how I got involved with JBJ.
JBJ engaged John Mortimer QC, with whom I got along very well. Because of the case, I also met Martin Thomas QC, Baron Hugh Emlyn Hooson QC and Louis Blom-Cooper QC. The memorable experience of meeting all these great men cannot be compared with anything else. It only fanned my desire to become a better litigator.
Subhas with John Mortimer QC at the office he shared with MPD Nair.
Whenever it was possible, Mr Nair would come to court to give us encouragement. He would sit at the back of the courtroom. In the end, JBJ won but it was a shallow victory because he was not given a pardon. He was still out of the Assembly, still out of Parliament.
In the 1984 general election, the government introduced a new scheme called a Non-Constituency Member of Parliament (NCMP), which simply entitled the candidate who was defeated by the narrowest margins to be given a place in Parliament. Mr Nair, who stood in Jalan Kayu, was the closest defeated candidate. He lost to his opponent by about 500 votes. So he was given the invitation to join the Parliament and he was very excited.