Paluskar, born in 1872 into the family of a keertankar, was it is said, a bright and handsome lad. He was noticed by the prince of the Kurundwad state, Dajeesaheb, and was raised by him along with his own son. Born into a middle-class family, he received a princely upbringing. Thus, in a way, he saw reality from both sides of the class divide. A small incident during his childhood demonstrates this. The prince's son played a prank on young Vishnu by moistening a firecracker that he was to light. The cracker refused to spark, and as Vishnu blew on it it exploded in his face, injuring both his eyes. This was not an innocent act on the part of the prince's son who was 15 or 16 years old; he was probably motivated by jealousy since the prince was very fond of Vishnu, or by royal superiority. This deliberate act made Vishnu aware of the whimsical nature of princely patronage. It also changed his life. for. in spite of an eye operation (made possible again only by princely support), Vishnu's eyes remained weak. It was decided that Vishnu should be sent to Miraj to learn music from the court musician Balkrishnabua Ichalkaranjikar. The patronage too was shifted to Prince Balasahib of Miraj state. From 1886 to 1896 Vishnu received his training from Balkrishnabua Ichalkaranjikar. In this period his main role was that of the disciple, one that often came into conflict with the privileged position he enjoyed through princely support. He was sensitive to the treatment his guru received from the prince, who was his patron as well. Musicians in those days were at the mercy of princely whims and consequently under perpetual pressure. The gurus, in turn. were equally whimsical with their disciples. It was difficult for musicians to survive independent of patronage, for they had no social status. They were often compelled to teach singing to prostitutes, which lowered their status still further in the eyes of the respectable middle class. This lack of status, and the corresponding need to depend on the personal whims of the guru or patron hampered the development of musicians. As Paluskar realized this he decided to devote himself to a wider dissemination of music, in a more formal structure of institutionalized relationships, and to raising the social status of musicians. With these ideas in mind he left Miraj in 1896 and went to Aundh. This was a major decision, one that ultimately gave him his purpose and his identity, made him what he was. When Paluskar left Miraj two of his gurubandhus (those who learnt with him from the same guru, and therefore like his brothers) accompanied him. They respected his knowledge, his ability as a singer, as well as his personality and character, and regarded him almost as their gum. Even as a student his charismatic qualities were apparent. The way he manoeuvred his departure from Miraj is worth mentioning. It was necessary to get his patron's permission, so he told him a fictitious story about an imaginary relative who was seriously ill. Later, in 1919, when he started organizing music conferences in Bombay there was a vastly exaggerated report in a newspaper of a committee meeting he had convened. His biographer-disciple. Prof. B.R. Deodhar, was puzzled by the report. Paluskar explained. This is the technique of publicity, which even the Indian National Congress and other big conferences adopt.' Those were days 110 Numbers 14-15