WHEN I was living in Bombay I used to meet our current Primᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚᩚ𒀱ᩚᩚᩚe Minister quite often. Jayant Malhoutra (then more of an industrialist than a power-broker) and his lovely wife, Barota, gave grand dinner parties where the city's glitterati rubbed shoulders with Chandra Shekhar, R.K. Hegde, Devi Lal etc. I was the odd man out, the resident editor in attendance as it were. Mr Deve Gowda, in those days a rising Karnataka politician, was frequently invited and I am not giving away any secrets when I reveal that he was not the centre of attraction. The spotlight fell on the urbane Hegde or the commanding Chandra Shekhar. Mr Gowda sat quietly nursing his soft drink, while liveried waiters dashed around serving Black Label and French wine, watching this upmarket tamasha with a certain detached bemusement. He had a point of view, but only offered his opinion when specifically asked. However, even then one felt the 'rivalry' when Ramakrishna Hegde walked in and virtually hogged the evening not so much by his eloquence or personality but by his shrewd conviviality. "I always drink openly," he would say. "Why hide when you enjoy something?" These were the sort of remarks the assembled glitterati applauded and which Mr Gowda could not match.
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