That's how he was known in the Mysore University Post Graduate Department of English.
Long before I came in for my post-graduate studies, I met him at the Regional Institute of Education, where I was doing my B.A.Ed.in English Literature.We were sitting around a huge oval table one afternoon--Varma, Vishwanath Mirle, Bezboruah, Suchitha Medappa-- staff members,and two students. One of them was myself and the other was...I think it was Amal. I am not so sure at this distant date.There walks into the room then, a small, very pleasant looking old gentleman wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches. He had kindly eyes that twinkled behind thick lenses, and a very shy smile. He pulled up a chair next to Vishawanath, and they got talking in Kannada.
I was sitting next to Varma. "Who is that that nice old man?" I asked him.Varma gave an impish smile and turned around. "R.K.!" he shouted " here's someone who wants to know 'who that nice old man' is!"
I was mortified at being so betrayed and must have looked embarassed.
"That's exactly how I would like to be known.Thank you, young lady." The man said leaning towards me with a smile. I still did not know who he was. But I swore I wasn't going to ask.
Vishwa smiled at my discomfort and said laconically "R.K.Narayan." hugely enjoying himself at the expression on my face.
That was my encounter with the creator of Malgudi. And those, by the way were my teachers: a magnificently brilliant lot who looked more like truck drivers than the amazingly creative people they really were.
They were incomparable. I thank them for shaping my sensibility.
R.K.Narayan, I saw many times afterward, always in and out of the Dept. of English ,Mysore. Prof. C.D.Narasimhaiah, or C.D.N. as he was known in the literary world, was a very good friend of his.
R.K. lived in Yadavagiri, and drove and old Fiat. He loved Mysore, and so do I.
Nothing can come near , lifting up your eyes and seeing Chamundi hill, watching over Mysore. "Like Olympus over Athens" C.D.N. used to say. It changes the texture of a town, to be in the shadow of a hill.
"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." [ Psalms-121:1, 2] .
Long before I came in for my post-graduate studies, I met him at the Regional Institute of Education, where I was doing my B.A.Ed.in English Literature.We were sitting around a huge oval table one afternoon--Varma, Vishwanath Mirle, Bezboruah, Suchitha Medappa-- staff members,and two students. One of them was myself and the other was...I think it was Amal. I am not so sure at this distant date.There walks into the room then, a small, very pleasant looking old gentleman wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches. He had kindly eyes that twinkled behind thick lenses, and a very shy smile. He pulled up a chair next to Vishawanath, and they got talking in Kannada.
I was sitting next to Varma. "Who is that that nice old man?" I asked him.Varma gave an impish smile and turned around. "R.K.!" he shouted " here's someone who wants to know 'who that nice old man' is!"
I was mortified at being so betrayed and must have looked embarassed.
"That's exactly how I would like to be known.Thank you, young lady." The man said leaning towards me with a smile. I still did not know who he was. But I swore I wasn't going to ask.
Vishwa smiled at my discomfort and said laconically "R.K.Narayan." hugely enjoying himself at the expression on my face.
That was my encounter with the creator of Malgudi. And those, by the way were my teachers: a magnificently brilliant lot who looked more like truck drivers than the amazingly creative people they really were.
They were incomparable. I thank them for shaping my sensibility.
R.K.Narayan, I saw many times afterward, always in and out of the Dept. of English ,Mysore. Prof. C.D.Narasimhaiah, or C.D.N. as he was known in the literary world, was a very good friend of his.
R.K. lived in Yadavagiri, and drove and old Fiat. He loved Mysore, and so do I.
Nothing can come near , lifting up your eyes and seeing Chamundi hill, watching over Mysore. "Like Olympus over Athens" C.D.N. used to say. It changes the texture of a town, to be in the shadow of a hill.
"I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help." [ Psalms-121:1, 2] .
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