Kannada Rajyotsva always unfolds saccharine recollections of my longing for the Kannada during my college years. Growing up in a small village called Byrathi in then-semi-urban Bengaluru, my parents could only afford a Kannada-medium school for my education. Being run by Catholic nuns, the school gave fee concessions to poor children through one of their schemes called "Mercy."
I was quite a studious pupil who could do well in all the subjects except for mathematics, which is a nightmare for me even now. Even though I spoke a different tongue at home, my love for the Kannada language was so ardent that I could do exceptionally well compared to my peers whose mother tongue was Kannada. I participated in taluk-level and state-level Navodaya Kannada competitive exams and won accolades. My teachers, particularly those who taught Kannada, were proud of me.
When I joined a seminary in Goa for religious studies, along with other seminarians, I was enrolled in college for PUC. To my disappointment, I had to choose between Hindi and Konkani, and no Kannada or optional English as a subject. I had to snail my way through studying Hindi for the next two years. Besides English, I’d long for something to read in Kannada. Because vernacular language books, newspapers, and magazines were prohibited in the seminary (this was done to teach the candidates English because the majority of them had attended Kannada medium schools), I’d clandestinely read Kannada magazines brought to me by a senior priest upon my constant nagging. Oh! What a joy it was to read Kannada!
After bidding adieu to the emerald land of Goa, like a prodigal son, I returned home with a bagful of experiences. As it was indispensable to pursue my graduate studies, I joined one of the illustrious colleges in Bangalore. By then, Kannada literature had left within me a perennial impact. I was jubilant at the very thought that I could opt for Kannada again after a chasm of three years. I was utterly dismayed to learn that I could not opt for Kannada as the second language, because I passed PUC with Hindi as the second language. I was enraged, desperate, and disappointed that I had to go without Kannada again. I have nothing against Hindi as a language, but my dejection was that I could not opt for the language I love ardently.
The majestic college library, which had an abundance of Kannada books, consoled me. I devoured the works of Kuvempu, Poornachandra Tejaswi, P Lankesh, U R Ananthmurthy, Beechi, and others. While still a Hindi student, I was made the secretary of the Kannada Literary Club in the college. This, I feel even today, was the biggest honour I received for my zealous love for Kannada, the language of my heart.