A new book throws light on the personal life of K Shivarama Karanth, Jnanpith laureate, freedom fighter, and environmentalist.
One of the tallest Indian literary figures of the 20th century, he wrote extensively in Kannada, and was a polymath next only to Rabindranath Tagore, as the foreword suggests.
Titled ‘Growing Up Karanth’, it is a memoir authored by his children Malavika Kapur, visiting professor at National Institute of Advanced Studies, Bengaluru, K Ullas Karanth, wildlife biologist, and Kshama Rau, dancer.
A panel comprising the authors, former diplomat Chiranjiv Singh, and journalist Shoba Narayan will discuss the book on Friday at an event aptly called ‘Inside the world of a renaissance man’.
An excerpt from a documentary on Shivarama Karanth, made by the theatre stalwart B V Karanth will also be screened at the event, which comes ahead of his 119th birth anniversary on October 10. He died in 1997 at the age of 95.
The 209-pager, published by Westland Non-fiction, will be up for grabs at the venue. However, it will officially hit the bookstands and e-stores on October 11 for Rs 699.
The book is written in English. Ullas hopes this will help non-Kannadigas and Kannadigas who have lost touch with their roots learn about Shivarama Karanth and his wife Leela Alva, who was the wind beneath his wings.
There are many books on Karanth, including nine autobiographical accounts. But it was his good friend Chiranjiv Singh who felt a memoir by his children would fill in the gaps. Harsha, their eldest sibling, had died in 1961.
“He nudged us to write the book 10 years ago. But we got busy. Then we tried putting together an edited volume, which did not add up coherently. Finally, three years ago, we decided we had to get this done,” says Ullas.
“We thought we would ramble on about our memories,” Ullas admits. But he found himself reading the history of the Bunt community, to which his mother belonged. He also combed through books on Shivarama Karanth just to find the “dates”.
“My father was born in 1902. All his friends and relatives are old. Many have passed away. We are old as well. Malavika is 80, I am 73, and Kshama is 71,” Ullas says, explaining the lack of documentation.
Collecting photographs also did not come easy. “The earliest photo that we have of our father is from his 20s, when he had quit college and joined the freedom struggle. We have a few more from his 30s, when he was married, and many more from his public life,” he says. The authors were lucky to find a photo of their mother when she was about six or seven.
The research left him emotional. “I had read his biographies as a kid but at that time, I could not appreciate the hardships he had to endure. Now I can. I re-read things like he would walk 20-30 kilometres to collect donations for the Congress party and he would survive on boiled chana on the way.”
But for Ullas, who graduated with a degree in engineering, the most vivid memory of his father is this: “T A Pai (well-known banker and politician) was a close friend of my father’s. In 1971, he asked my father if I would join a new industry coming up in Bombay. I declined because I wanted to be within a 5 to 6 km range from a forest-like Nagarhole. My father was fine with my decision.”
That industry went on to become Reliance, and Ullas a tiger expert. “It was my father who had inculcated the love for wildlife in me,” he says.
Panel discussion on October 8, 6 to 7.30 pm, at Bangalore International Centre, Domlur. Also live-streamed on YouTube.