<p>It was on a hot, humid day in March 1993 that we had found our way to the gates of a beautiful house in Manipal, a little town which is more than a dot on the global education map. <br /><br />The owner, Vijayanath Shenoy, had gladly ushered us in to a walk-through of his creation. Passionate about heritage conservation, he unravelled the fascinating story behind it. In fact, every exhibit in his house-turned-museum was linked to an incredible story that had us completely mesmerised. Something about his manner of narration reminded me quaintly of that ancient mariner from Coleridge’s poem. <br /><br />It bothered him terribly that centuries-old ancestral mansions were being razed and their components such as solid carved wooden pillars, doors, windows, beams and rafters were landing up in saw mills and being destroyed. His initial mission was to only salvage them all. But when the backyard of his modest home at #50, Anantanagar started filling to capacity, he decided to repurpose the parts to create his new home, Hasta Shilpa.<br />Only Shenoy’s loving and meticulous planning and execution, cementing architectural tenets of the region along with vaastu, could have resulted in such a stunning masterpiece. When it began attracting hordes of curious visitors, disrupting the family’s routine, Shenoy converted it into a museum.</p>.<p><br />One enamoured Arabian visitor proffered a blank cheque with an improbable request to dismantle and rebuild the structure in his country! A British tourist was so inspired as to send back a model of an old Ford car fashioned from a disassembled wristwatch.<br />That day we hadn’t expected to spend a good three to four hours as we did, and were running late for a lunch appointment. It felt rather rude, but we had to interrupt his impassioned storytelling to say so. Taking scant cognizance of our muttering, he shepherded us to the town’s popular hangout, promptly ordered some refreshments and continued with his seemingly inexhaustible fund of anecdotes.</p>.<p><br />Then, taking it upon himself to make amends for the delay, he went to the extent of hailing a taxi to drop us to our destination, Brahmavar, and jumping in beside the driver, guided him through a desolate route downhill, steering clear of congested Udupi and the highway traffic, all the while enthralling us with more of his recollections along the way!<br />However, his best story was yet to come. My article on his mansion had appeared in the Spectrum (June 12, 1993) of this paper in which his mug shot was among the images used. Shenoy, who happened to be passing through Bangalore en route to Madras for a US visa interview, had bought a copy. <br /><br />The consular officer, probably unimpressed by his unassuming demeanour, had asked if he owned any property. “I have a house,” he had replied. Asked if he had brought any documents as proof, Shenoy had said “No,” but had enough presence of mind as to fish out the article and say: “But I have this!” A quick glance at the headline, his picture and the person, and the visa was granted!</p>.<p><br />It was deeply saddening to read of his death in early March. Hasta Shilpa was followed by Heritage Village, a stupendous conservation project. But it took only a single encounter with Shenoy to conclude that the man and his vision were more precious than the monumental heritage he strove to conserve.</p>
<p>It was on a hot, humid day in March 1993 that we had found our way to the gates of a beautiful house in Manipal, a little town which is more than a dot on the global education map. <br /><br />The owner, Vijayanath Shenoy, had gladly ushered us in to a walk-through of his creation. Passionate about heritage conservation, he unravelled the fascinating story behind it. In fact, every exhibit in his house-turned-museum was linked to an incredible story that had us completely mesmerised. Something about his manner of narration reminded me quaintly of that ancient mariner from Coleridge’s poem. <br /><br />It bothered him terribly that centuries-old ancestral mansions were being razed and their components such as solid carved wooden pillars, doors, windows, beams and rafters were landing up in saw mills and being destroyed. His initial mission was to only salvage them all. But when the backyard of his modest home at #50, Anantanagar started filling to capacity, he decided to repurpose the parts to create his new home, Hasta Shilpa.<br />Only Shenoy’s loving and meticulous planning and execution, cementing architectural tenets of the region along with vaastu, could have resulted in such a stunning masterpiece. When it began attracting hordes of curious visitors, disrupting the family’s routine, Shenoy converted it into a museum.</p>.<p><br />One enamoured Arabian visitor proffered a blank cheque with an improbable request to dismantle and rebuild the structure in his country! A British tourist was so inspired as to send back a model of an old Ford car fashioned from a disassembled wristwatch.<br />That day we hadn’t expected to spend a good three to four hours as we did, and were running late for a lunch appointment. It felt rather rude, but we had to interrupt his impassioned storytelling to say so. Taking scant cognizance of our muttering, he shepherded us to the town’s popular hangout, promptly ordered some refreshments and continued with his seemingly inexhaustible fund of anecdotes.</p>.<p><br />Then, taking it upon himself to make amends for the delay, he went to the extent of hailing a taxi to drop us to our destination, Brahmavar, and jumping in beside the driver, guided him through a desolate route downhill, steering clear of congested Udupi and the highway traffic, all the while enthralling us with more of his recollections along the way!<br />However, his best story was yet to come. My article on his mansion had appeared in the Spectrum (June 12, 1993) of this paper in which his mug shot was among the images used. Shenoy, who happened to be passing through Bangalore en route to Madras for a US visa interview, had bought a copy. <br /><br />The consular officer, probably unimpressed by his unassuming demeanour, had asked if he owned any property. “I have a house,” he had replied. Asked if he had brought any documents as proof, Shenoy had said “No,” but had enough presence of mind as to fish out the article and say: “But I have this!” A quick glance at the headline, his picture and the person, and the visa was granted!</p>.<p><br />It was deeply saddening to read of his death in early March. Hasta Shilpa was followed by Heritage Village, a stupendous conservation project. But it took only a single encounter with Shenoy to conclude that the man and his vision were more precious than the monumental heritage he strove to conserve.</p>
