I think it was the summer of 1945. The place was Belgaum. I was then a college student, as much involved in music as in my academic studies. Those were the days when I also nursed an ambition to be a vocalist and used to devote much of my leisure to listening to radio and concert music without, of course, neglecting my academic studies!

Belgaum then (as also hopefully now) abounded in public and private concerts, at which local and visiting artistes treated the local rasikas to wholsome music and sent them home with gladdened hearts. I have haunting memories of many concerts, at which were featured stalwarts like ,Rambhau Gulavani, Vishwanathbuva Jadhav, Azmat Hussain Khan and Sureshbabu Mane, to name but a few. There also were drawing-room programmes held by well-to-do families, at which younger talent came to be given opportunities to perform before a compact but discerning group of invitees.

It was at one such private baithak that I chanced. to hear a young Marathi-speaking vocalist. He appeared then to be in his twenties, but his two-hour performance, covering well- known and less-known melodies, sounded too good for his age. What specially struck me was the natural ease and skill with which he managed to unfold and project his rare ragas. His style bore the umistakable impress of the Agra gharana, made so famous by the late maestro Faiyaz Khan, one of the all-time greats whose radio concerts I seldom missed.

I do not recollect, at this distance of time, the entire fare I heard from this youngster. But I still have the vivid memory of one melody, which was explained as Kedar-Bahar. It was the raga I had heard for the first time. I surmised that it was a combination of two time-honoured ragas delightfully familiar to my ears. But what swept me off my feet was the emergence of a new raga the hue and character of which sounded so delightfully different from that of its components. Here, indeed, was the originality and virtuosity of the composer, as also the singer, seen at their best!

Somehow, in those days I could not have the nerve to approach and get to know any performing artistes. All I did was to obtain the particulars about them through more knowledgeable friends and also local artistes. That was how I also missed meeting this Lucknow vocalist at that programme. I was simply content to keep humming the Kedar-Bahar tune on my way home after the baithak.

I learnt that the name of the artiste was K. G. Ginde, a senior pupil of Pandit S. N. Ratanjankar at the Marris College of Music at Lucknow. I also learnt that Ginde also belonged to Belgaum district and came from Bailhongal, and that he had come down to his native place during the summer vacation.

I also gathered that he was then only 19 and had come of a respectable cultured family and that he had decided to devote himself to music as a full-time profession. This was at a time when pursuit of music as a profession was out of bounds to even gifted youngsters, if they happened to belong to educated and cultured, families. As one who also came of such a family, my reaction to Ginde’s career was one of both admiration and envy.

Nearly a decade ha d to go by before I came to know Ginde. That was when he left Lucknow for good, and came to this metropolis to settle down and pursue his vocation. It took little time for our casual acquaintance to mature into lasting friendship.

Krishna Gundo Ginde was born at Bailhongal, on Saturday, December 26, 1925. He was one of the nine children of his parents. They were in all six brothers and three sisters and Krishna was the eighth child-which is Why he was named after Lord Krishna. Gundopant came of a humble family and had to go: through the mill before Ice became a medical practitioner. He set up his general practice at Bailhongal and emerged as a successful physician. He was also a keen lover of classical music and Marathi musical stage and had built up a fine” collection of recorded music of many reigning masters of the time. He also encouraged his children to share his interest in music right from their early childhood.

Gundopant’s eldest son. Ramchandra, who later rose to be one of the world-famous neurosurgeons. was the first to lead his younger brothers and sisters in the pursuit of the joyous hobby of their father. But it would seem that it was Krishna who showed his. extraordinary sensitivity to the sounds of music and rhythm even while yet an infant. Gundopant correctly sensed the child’s propensities and gave him opportunities to listen to the records. He would even encourage his child to imitate some of the masters. So much so, that Krishna gave his first private jalsa before a group of his father’s friends and relatives when he was only six years old. He sang for two and a half hours and elicited unstinted admiration from his listeners. A photograph taken on the occasion has been preserved by the Ginde family. Krishna’s brilliant debut struck the keynote of his future career and the credit for shaping it goes to his eldest doctor brother, himself a musician by choice.

Krishna, as also his other brothers, had their primary education in Kannada at Bailhongal, after which they were sent, one after another, to Belgaum for further studies at their uncle’s residence. During this time, Krishna met Shivaputra Siddharamayya Komkali, who later became famous as Kumar Gandharva