

For actor and Rajya Sabha member Jaggesh, memories from his struggling years often return not with bitterness but rather gratitude. Among them is a small yet powerful moment involving V Ravichandran—a gesture of kindness that Jaggesh says he carries with him even today.
Jaggesh believes the peace he feels in life now comes from the prayer corner in his home. When he built his first house in 1986, there was no separate place for worship. Wanting to continue the devotion he had learnt from his mother, he bought clay idols of Ganapathi and Raghavendra for just INR 40 from Malleswaram’s 8th Cross. He placed them on a wooden plank in a corner of his kitchen and began his daily prayers. What started in a modest space has now become a ritual he has followed for nearly 40 years.
Those idols, he says, witnessed some of his most difficult days. “I would stand before them and cry, asking only for the strength to stand on my own feet,” he recalled. The humiliation and struggles of those years often found their way into his prayers. His faith was not casual—it was built on fasts, vows and quiet conversations with the divine that kept him moving forward.
Among the many years of observing Ganesh vrata, the Ganesh Chaturthi of 1987 remains etched in his mind. That day, Jaggesh was shooting for the film Ranadheera. He had planned to finish work early and return home for the puja. Instead, the climax shoot stretched deep into the night. When it finally wrapped up around 2.40 am, Jaggesh realised he didn’t even have money to buy flowers or fruits for the ritual.
With hesitation, he approached Ravichandran, who had just completed a long and exhausting shoot. “Sir… I don’t have money for the puja. Could you give me ₹200?” Jaggesh recalled asking softly.
Ravichandran didn’t pause for long. Turning to his manager, he simply said, “Give him ₹500.”
For Jaggesh, that moment meant far more than the money itself. It was help that came without questions, without hesitation. “Our Ravichandran has a large heart,” he wrote, adding that no matter how much life has changed for him, the respect he holds for the star remains special. Years later, he even had a line written in a song from his film Bhanda Nanna Ganda as a quiet nod to that kindness.
That night, Jaggesh rode his bike to the Malleswaram market, bought flowers and fruits, and performed the puja at dawn before finally going to sleep.
Even today, he says his devotion has not faded. Jaggesh continues to serve in temples, sometimes even sweeping the premises, because he believes service keeps ego away. Life, he says, has taught him one enduring truth: when faith holds firm, help often arrives in the form of another human being. As he puts it, “Daivam manushya roopena”—the divine appears through people.