It was a warm week-day afternoon, around the early 1950's. I had just finished my school day and was crossing the road to pick up my father from the office of N Sirur & Company, at Kalaghoda, Fort, Bombay.As I reached the other side I chanced upon Ramakrishna A Lajmi, who had retired from the firm a decade earlier. Relying on a walking stick, attired in his customary shirt, dhoti, coat, black cap and chappals, he portrayed the quintessential Saraswat gentleman of a past age. For some inexplicable reason, he held my arm and spoke to me in Konkani:"Vhai re…
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