[Above: Dr Vellayappan (standing; with his wife Sigappi) is interested in not only the health of his patients but that of the temples as well.]

By Patrick Jonas

HIS day starts early. After his regular yoga session and breakfast, Dr K. Vellayappan, 65, leaves home before 7am but does not head straight to his clinic at Mt Alvernia Medical Centre.

Across the road from his apartment is the Sri Thendayuthapani Temple in Tank Road. By the time the temple doors open at 7am, the doctor is there to worship. He then drives to the Sri Layan Sithi Vinayagar temple and the Sri Mariamman Temple (both in Chinatown) to pray before reaching his clinic. This is his daily routine.

The temples are dear to him. Apart from his strong religious beliefs, Dr Vellayappan is also actively involved in the running of the temples. On July 1, he took over as the chairman of the 184-year-old Sri Mariamman Temple. He is also a former trustee of the other two temples, which were set up by the Chettiar community who came from the Chettinad region of Tamil Nadu in the early part of the 19th century.

The Chettiars, who were moneylenders, lived as a close-knit community in what is called a kittangi - a house where they slept and conducted their business.

And Dr Vellayappan, who inherited the items from the kittangi, has lent the teak furniture used in it, photographs and images to the Asian Civilisations Museum (ACM) to tell the story of the life and work of the Chettiar community.

This recently got him honoured with the Supporter of Heritage Award by the National Heritage Board.

"When I inherited the furniture, it was just lying in a corner and when the ACM approached me, I was more than glad to loan it," he says. "I grew up in the kittangi where the Chettiars practised their business.

I was exposed to all of them and to a certain extent they moulded my character.

They would ask the younger boys to run errands.

This gave me an opportunity to mix with other races and learn bazaar Malay."

In the kittangis, each of the moneylenders occupied a space with a cabinet and a wooden cashier's box, which they kept inside the cabinet after the day's business.

The Chettiars, says the doctor, lived out of the box.

"After a day's work, the Chettiars would finish their accounts, have dinner and go for a walk around 8pm from their kittangi in Market Street to Elizabeth Walk. They would return around 9.30pm and go to bed.

My father did not live in the kittangi.

He lived in a room near the temple and I lived there with him till the rest of the family came down from India," recalls the doctor.

So in some ways, moving into the apartment in UE Square about 10 years ago was a kind of homecoming for Dr Vellayappan.

He remembers his early days in Singapore vividly. He had come to Singapore one August at the age of eight on board the SS Rajula, not knowing a word of English. Since the academic year in Singapore schools started in January, his father sent him to a private school in Joo Chiat to learn English. From there it was on to Whampoa Primary school, followed by Bartley Secondary.

After his O levels, his father wanted him to do engineering. However, as engineering courses were not offered those days in Singapore, he was sent to Sydney to do his matriculation that would make him eligible to apply for an engineering course there.

When his matriculation results arrived, the school's career adviser told him that he should consider medicine as an option. His father was initally not keen since medicine would mean six years of study while an engineering degree could be finished in four.

But he agreed despite the additional costs. When the young Vellayappan was into his second year, he got to know from fellow Singaporeans that he could apply for a Colombo Plan scholarship.

He did so and was granted one from the third year onwards.

Adapting to life in Australia as an 18-year-old was not without its hiccups. He remembers flying to Sydney on an Air India plane (there was no Singapore Airlines those days and Air India was one of the few airlines which flew to Australia) via Perth. Once in Sydney, he was put up first in a holding hostel for foreign students and then with an Australian family. After a few weeks of baked beans, mashed potato and bread, he had had enough. So he moved out with a fellow Tamil Singaporean friend and rented a room.

"We started cooking. We had to do everything ourselves but it really moulded us," he says of his early days in Sydney.

After his studies he returned to Singapore to do his housemanship. "My first posting was in paediatrics and my guru was Professor Wong Hock Boon. He earned my respect and taught me a lot.

Seeing children happy after recovery and the gratitude of parents drove me to do a post-graduate degree in paediatrics," explains the doctor of his decision.

He was the first in his family to graduate and his two younger brothers went on to follow his example. Both are now settled in the United States, one an MBA graduate and the other an engineer. He has two sisters who are settled in Malaysia.

Dr Vellayappan and his wife Sigappi have three children - two sons and a daughter. The eldest, 38-year-old Subramaniam, did his MBA and lives in San Diego.

The second, 36-year-old Nachiammai, is a chartered accountant and lives with her husband in Detroit. Youngest son Balamurugan, 28, has followed in Dad's footsteps. He is doing his training in radiation oncology at the National University Hospital here.

And, as expected, it is the four grandchildren - from the older children - who Dr Vellayappan and his wife dote on. He loves spending time with them when they come to Singapore for their holidays or when he visits them.

Holidays for him are few but he travels to India often. And usually, it is to visit temples. "I am more of a religious person," he admits.

That's why, when he is in Singapore, his focus is on more than his patients.

Deeply involved with the affairs of three temples here, he ensures they function in a healthy manner.

patrickj@sph.com.sg