Beechi (ಬೀChi): the ‘serious’ human side of Kannada’s famous humorist

When I read Beechi’s work, I became aware of a life that was lived fully. In addition, I also found several answers, in the form of questions, to my own questions about life.

An inquisitively lived life

A bearded Beechi (Supplied)

Like Beechi himself said, “I set out to find the answer to a question I had – not only did I not find the answer, all sorts of different question arose and made me lose my way.”

It might seem like the purpose of this essay about Beechi is to get people to read him; however, I have no intention of proselytising. However, it is my belief that reading Beechi will make this life beautiful.

Like Oscar Wilde said, “If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they’ll kill you.” It was in keeping with this dictum that our comic writer Beechi wrote, exposing life’s truths while adding a layer of comedy.

“There is food only because there is hunger. But food existed first, hunger came later.”

Persisting in the face of his relatives’ indifference

Beechi, who grew up by eating vaaranna (a practice where poor students studying living away from home ate food at a different house each day) and asking strangers for money in order to finish his schooling (up to the 10th standard), would go on to give Kannada literature memorable works that stand the test of time.

“If you don’t study, will this world stop spinning? Move on, move on to the next house” – such were the words Beechi had to listen to and the humiliation he had to face to develop his personality.

Here is how Beechi writes about humankind’s belief and faith in his memoir titled “ನನ್ನ ಬಯಾಗ್ರಫಿ” (My Bhayaagraphy). The title is a play on the Kannada word “bhaya“, meaning fear.

Coping with the death of an adult son

“In the November of 1968, my second son was lying in bed with a fever. A week later, he was lying in the morgue. He was 22 at the time. I went mad. My hand shakes as I write about that time. Ours was a house of death. Friends were coming by to offer their condolences. But all I could think was ‘why are all these people coming. I have no inclination to go outside and talk to them.’ My mind was in such a churn. One day, Ramachandraiah avaru, the proprietor of Geeta Prakashana, came by.”

“No sooner had he arrived than he asked, ‘Now what’s happened to you?’ With tears in my eyes, I said, ‘What’s left to happen, Ramachandraiah avare?’

“He caught hold of my hand and dragged me outside. He took out a wad of money from his pocket and saying, ‘Here’s 300 rupees. Keep it,’ shoved the wad into my pocket. My voice trembling, I said: ‘I don’t want it, Settre! In this life at least, I will not be able to hold a pen or write a word again. I have money of my own, I don’t need yours.’ I was crying as I said this. 

“‘If you don’t want it, give it back to me another day.’ Saying this, he got on to his cycle and left without giving me a chance to get a word in. Is there a grief that time does not make bearable? I took up my pen again, and wrote on behalf of Ramachandraiah awaru.”

A life founded on a belief in human goodness

Continuing, Beechi writes about a question that arose of itself in his mind: “Have you not met any dishonest people or made any deceitful friends in your life?”

“I have. More than enough actually. A number of people have deceived me but must I recall only those people and, looking at the entire world with suspicion, lose that faith which is the equal of nectar and make life sterile for myself? Believe in a god or don’t, that is between you and your god. But don’t lose faith in humanity is what my wisdom keeps telling me every now and then.”

The life-tree stands bearing flowers and fruit,
its roots have descended deep;
let the leaves fall, don’t make the root go dry;
the life-tree’s root is a sign of belief, Thimma ||

People who’ve believed have suffered, let that be,
it is wrong to live without belief within this world;
there are hundreds of colours on this full-filled earth,
having belief in belief is the safe way, Thimma ||

An autobiography written to making peace with himself

Here is how Beechi explains the writing of his autobiography. 

“My starting to write my memoirs was not done with any intention of doing the world a great favour. But I needed to find a way to make peace with the storms that arise in my head now and then, the perturbances that shake my heart from time to time, the complaints of my conscience. 

This biography is an effort in that direction. I have no interest in being stubborn and saying that all I have said here is correct. You are my friend, whether you agree with what I say or disagree with what I say.

However, I confess that I believe my opinion is right. In the same manner, I also believe that, in the eyes of the world, I am an inconsequential nobody.”

A deliberate attempt to capture Beechi’s humanity instead of his humour

Beechi’s works brim over with humour but in this essay, I have put aside talking about that humour in favour of trying to understand the inner workings of Beechi.

Likewise, I have chosen to describe how he transformed the ups and down of life into the humour he is famous for.

As far as I am concerned, Beechi’s life is a mirror. A black and white painting evokes a greater degree of feeling. I believe Beechi’s life too is a black and white painting.

Hundreds of people may say this and that about him, but what has become clear to me is that it is best to read his autobiography before talking about Beechi.

Beechi’s advice for living a good life

A last word from the section of Beechi autobiography titled ‘ಕೊನೆಯ ಮಾತು (Koneya Maatu: A Last Word)’. 

“No one’s life is so difficult or unworthy that it cannot be lived. Don’t run away from living life. Face it squarely and live it. This is the lesson I have learnt from life. Your life is not as intolerable as you think.

So love your life. Love will lighten the weight of life. Do not ever make room in your heart for hatred. Love is light, hatred is darkness.”

With his words, Beechi spilled the light of love on us and explained the essence of living. The birth of this writer whose work increased the distinction of Kannada literature is a boon to us all.

(This article is a translation by Madhav Ajjampur of an essay by Basavaray Emmiyavar.

Originally from Gadag, Basavaraj now lives in Bengaluru and works as an engineer in a private company. A theatre enthusiast and practitioner, he has been involved with amateur theatre for the last six years. His interests include directing, stage lighting, writing, and organizing. In addition to directing the short films, ‘Pathika’ and ‘Odu Manjanno Odu’, Basavaraj has also written and directed ‘Manasa Putra’, a play based on Beechi’s autobiography, “Nanna Bhayaagraphy”.)