The first time I met Mr. Bal Thackeray was the day I joined the Free Press. (I will not mention the date, because that will age both of us, and though I do not mind people knowing my age, Mr. Thackeray might.) One of the reporters took me around the office, which was then at 21Dalal Street, and introduced me to several staff members, including those of the Janshakti and the Navshakti. "And this is Thackeray, our cartoonist," he said. A long, poodle-face with a cigar in the mouth looked up from the drawing-board, smiled, and extended a paint-stained hand with artistic fingers.