By S N Surkund
Mangaluru, Oct 30, 2022: How are you going to look after your father’s business if you score single digit marks in arithmetic, Vaman,” asked our teacher Anant Krishna Samuk. Vaman Baliga, occupying the third desk with deep concern from the front row, was reluctantly standing, his eyes glued to the blackboard, while his right hand was busy trying to remove some ink-stain from the desk.
In the late ’40s General Stores in Udupi, located near the famous landmark Santekatte, was well known for all stationery requirements of students, be it exercise books, copy books, drawing books, pen, pencil, rubber or scales. During season, to compete with Ideal Stores in Temple Pete, on way to the famous Venkatramana Temple, Baliga, proprietor of General Stores, had introduced a special offer — one pencil free for those who purchased exercise books worth Rs. 3/-
His son and my classmate Vaman, quite and soft-spoken, was least aggressive in sharp contrast to the go-getter father. Sometimes late in the evenings we saw Vaman occupying his father’s hot seat in the shop while the father was busy with a customer. Initially, he used to flash in the class a fancy item, like a pencil with a rubber at the other end (a novelty then) and also a self-filling ink pen. Even Kuppanna Acharya, our Kannada pundit at Board High School, Udupi, could not desist from inspecting it, when Cholayya of Jungamare Mutt drew his attention to the new invention.
I bid good-bye to Udupi in 1951, and went to Bombay lock stock and barrel. There was hardly any contact worth the mention with Vaman Baliga, though I did visit Udupi a couple of times. I came to know that he had shifted the stores to Tenku Pet (nearer his competitor) and had changed his line of business. But, I was also told he had gone to Coondapur.
Then, in 1970, while I was in Syndicate Bank, Manipal, Somashekhar Bhat, another classmate (now a known social worker and politician), told me about Vaman Baliga’s unit in Malpe and Coondapur manufacturing a special type of fishing nets that had good demand in vast coastal area of Karnataka and Kerala. Somehow, even at this juncture, I could not contact him, though I was stationed in Udupi.
One day I was trying to cross the road near Diana Circle, a car made a screeching halt near me. “Shivshankar, can I drop you somewhere,” said a gleaming Vaman Baliga. Surprised, I replied, “On one condition. First we will have golibaje and coffee at Mitra Samaj, and then you would drop me at Sheeribeedu.” Vaman opened the front seat door, shaking his head.
Mitra Samaj at Car Street had its own charm. Steaming brownish golibaje was quite tempting. While munching them, Vaman Baliga told me about his expanding business of fishing nets, which was considered to be the best available in the country,” he said lifting the piping hot filter coffee glass for a sip. We reminisced for a while and before we parted, Vaman insisted on my getting in touch with him if and when I needed any help.
It so happened that I had to turn to him within a few days. I got the bad news my wife was suffering from Agni Sarpa (herpes). I bought a special type of herbal root from the shop of Jogappa Shenoy, near Venkataramana Temple and sought Baliga’s help to rush it to Bombay. “Don’t worry, it will reach there tomorrow evening.” he said. He kept his promise.
Then, for a few years, there was no contact between us, except for an exchange of Diwali and New Year greetings, as I had joined Union Bank, Bombay, in 1970. To recharge my batteries, taking advantage of LFC (Leave Fare Concession) offered by my bank in 1976, I had a tour of Kerala and was to touch Udupi. We stayed in “Apsara” Hotel near Kalsanka, where one more cinema theatre was to come up.
In the evening, I went to see Baliga. It was election season. Baliga was sitting with his head down, engrossed in some thought. I quietly sat opposite and said “Namaskara Swami,” folding my hands. To my utter surprise, without even lifting his head, he mumbled, “Which is your party?” In good humour, I replied, “I am in your party”!
When he heard this unexpected answer. Suddenly he lifted his head in surprise. Automatically his right hand came forward to greet, with an expression of apology on his face. When I told him that I have come with my family, he insisted that we must have dinner with them. “My car will reach your hotel by 7 p.m. You will enjoy Bangda ghassi and Korida roti, “he said flashing his smoke-stained teeth.
Sharp at 7 p.m., his driver knocked on our door at Apsara Hotel. Vaman’s palatial house was located near Modern High School. He was standing at the main entrance to welcome us with his dog and kids. When our children saw the TV-VCR, they were keen to watch any film. My wife, after formal introduction, accompanied Vaman’s wife to the kitchen. There in the kitchen, knowing that I am vegetarian, even at a short notice, Matti Gulla phodi and Special Sukke pali Toi was made. Ours 4 and his 3 -“all were busy selecting the film from his huge collection. ‘Barsaat’ was the final choice. It was then that I got the opportunity to sincerely thank him – for sending the herbal root a few years back by AIR cargo to Bombay.
He then told me about the innovation he had made weaving a fishing net by assembling a machine which was giving better results. He said he was now selling them at half the price of its imported counterpart. He wanted me to visit his factory at Malpe and Coondapur the next day. But our return tickets by the next day morning flight to Bombay were already confirmed. I had to regret reluctantly.
The amount of love they showered on us, I will never forget in my lifetime. Though Vaman is no more, whenever Matti Gulla phodi is on menu, Vaman Baliga’s face flashes on my mental screen even today. May his soul rest in peace.n