Remembering a pundit

His friends and admirers are yet to come to terms with his eternal absence. But there always remains a query. What endeared him to so many people? His weekly column quot;Wonder Kannuquot; Wonder Eye, or his incredible knowledge of men and matters, or his humour?

All these and, above all, his uncanny ability to spot talent and encourage it. Some of today8217;s towering figures of Karnataka8217;s cultural and literary scene have benefitted from him. As a copy-editor of the Kannada daily Prajavani, he inspired many budding talents into becoming what they are today Jnanpith awardees, eminent poets and writers by having their works published. Well-known poet B.C. Ramachandra Sharma, who8217;s older than YNK, once even said YNK was like his guru.

Kannada Prabha8217;s editorial on his death wondered: quot;It8217;s an enigma to many whether YNK shone because A.K. Ramanujan, Ananthamurthy, Girish Karnad were there, or they all shone because YNK was there.quot; Beyond all this, YNK was an acknowledged brain behind the new-wave cinema of the 8217;70s.

Never could some of us associate YNK with death. He was 73, but his health masked his age. His health was a mystery to many. There was no place for lunch in his life. His day would begin with one or two best8217; idlis near his Gandhi Bazaar house. Evenings were the dearest part of his day. His favourite haunt was a seat beside a fountain at the Golf Club where he would religiously relish his PHD. Precious Hours of Drinking. He always wanted to take my colleague, whom he nicknamed Suryaprakash, and me to the club for a drink. Though the plan was nearly a year old, it had not materialised. But two days before he left on his last tour, he took us out. The three of us partied near his favourite rock fountain. Before he left us, he fulfilled his commitment. But I have not. I still owe him a scotch.

He would never fall ill. Whenever I did, I would not tell him. There were two reasons for this. One, being less than half his age, I had a complex about revealing my sickness. Two, on learning about my migraine, he once scribbled on a piece of paper the name of a homoeopath I should meet. He would take care of the rest. I never raised the topic again, though he reminded me twice. Had I again complained of a headache, I would have had to face his rare8217; anger. Himself a pundit, the popular joke about YNK was, he had immense belief in two things: Homeopathy and Sripathy, his foster son.

Friends, not relatives, dominated his life. Even in the office, he would go to a reporter, and talk to him, never did he expect a colleague to come to him. Nor did he summon anyone. A man without I8217; trouble, to use his words. His sharp pun startled many. When it became clear that S.M. Krishna would be Karnataka8217;s chief minister, YNK immediately remarked: 8220;Oh. It8217;s Rama Rajya there Centre, Krishna Rajya here.8221; YNK followed the literary tradition of his master, the late T.P. Kailasam.

Once he asked me my date of birth. I told him. He exclaimed, quot;Oh, you are also a Taurean.quot; He was one, and he had somehow developed an interest in zodiac forecasts. He took pride in the company of other Taureans, Adi Shankara, Shakespeare, Karl Marx, Bertrand Russell, Sachin Tendulkar, filmstar Dr Rajkumar, journalist T.J.S. George.

The visionary U.G. Krishnamurthy, in an interview, had said he would not wish to be born in India if there was rebirth. YNK was asked if he agreed. He did not say anything about birth. But he said he wished not to die in India. In less than a year since he punned thus, his words came true. He died mid-air.