BENGALURU: In 1981, when I was visiting SPB in Madras, his father, seeing our bond, told him to call me ‘anna’. He had lost his elder brother and his father felt that I had taken his place. Every time we met, SPB would fall at my feet to seek blessings, and I often told him that he didn’t have to do that. Our friendship started in 1975, when I, as the co-founder of the Bengaluru Ganesha Utsav, was co-ordinating his performance at the event.
After that, I called him when I went to Madras, and he would telephone me every time he came here. Although a car was organised to pick him up, he would prefer that I go to meet him, and he would come with me. We would then discuss any subject in a light-hearted way. He learnt Kannada from me, and would jokingly pick on words and tell me, “This is the way to pronounce it”.
Over the years, our trust grew. In 1981, my wife wasn’t well and we moved to Chennai for her treatment for two years. At that point we would meet often. This was even until the lockdown, when he came here for a performance in Electronics City. Other years, he would come here at least 5-6 times. We accompanied him wherever he went for performances. If he was in Bengaluru, I would wrap up work at my hotel, Kanthi Comforts in Gandhinagar, to join him for dinner.
Over the last month, since his diagnosis of Covid-19, his family members kept us updated. But at the same time, I didn’t want to disturb his family. On Thursday, I received the news that he’s critical. I miss him like an older brother. (The 81-year-old is a city-based hotelier)