AFTER A LAPSE OF THIRTY-THREE YEARS

AFTER A LAPSE OF THIRTY-THREE YEARS

(Reposted from the original post dated 21 May, 2019)

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With my student, Prof. Anirban Guha (IIT Bombay), and his mother (Tuk Kakima) at our residence a month back (April, 2019).

Prof. Guha is one of my memorable students of all time who as a boy used to walk miles from his house to receive lessons, refusing transport that would ease up conveyance. His absolute dedication to study was exemplified by his dogged perseverance in learning the rudiments of punctuation in the English language for a sustained stretch of six months.

Anirban's reverence for his teacher (myself) even as a boy bespoke of a great academic future and this I could envision even in those days when he remained singularly significant among my early students of my youthful days. His mother was a model for all mothers and brought him up in a cultured Brahmo environment replete with the singing of Tagore songs and a short prayer (Brahmo Upāsanā) before Anirban's commencement of evening studies every day. No harsh treatment of a son for the occasional lapse  --- and they were rare, indeed, for Anirban's reverence for parents was no less than his reverence for teacher and learning --- , no exhibition of foul temper or coarse language by way of caustic admonishment, no beating of child to protect his future interests and, of course, no conjugal quarrel of a vicious kind to violate the sanctum of the child-mind.

Exemplary parents give birth to exemplary children and then nurture them unto fruition, and such has been in the case of Anirban of seminal attributes and attainments today with a plethora of research papers under his belt and a galaxy of scientific scholars who have been guided in their theses by this unassuming Professor of acclaimed accomplishments by the academia. Blessed it is to bear such a babe who rises in self-effacement to such seminal heights. Blessed is the mother and blessed the father, too. As for myself, I consider it a benediction of Devi Sarasvati that I was graced with the opportunity to serve in my humble capacity this leonine soul at a time when both teacher and student were in bud.

A word more and I shall end this narrative. Beholding Anirban's dedication to studies and his walking the distance to our place, I used to call him 'Kolir Vidyasagar' (Vidyasagar of the Kali Yuga). May Vidyasagar bless him with light and life in this polluted age when such modern illustrations of the reformer's academic type are becoming increasingly rare!

Written by Sugata Bose

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P.S. My student, Dr. Anirban Guha (nickname Joy), who, when he was in Class 8, I had called him 'Kolir Visyasagar'. That he left this world at 54 on my 65th birth anniversary (10th June, 2026) has been a tragic last meeting ground and a perennial occasion for future years of this annual day, my arrival on earth and his departure. 

He was the best among my students, stretching over nearly 42 years now, with exemplary character and a thirst for knowledge unmatched. I remember how he kept on asking me to teach him the intricacies of punctuation in the English language for a full six months which, imperfect though I myself was at it, I tried my best to teach him. His reverence for me has been matchless in my life and the reverential delight he experienced in learning, the attribute Swamiji called 'shraddhā', was something I have rarely encountered in life. 

Born a Brahmo, he would with his mother, Tuk Kākimā, who passed away last year and was spared this sorrow, sit down every evening for the Brahmo prayer (Brahmo Upāsanā) and then sing Rabindra Sangeet from the Pūjā Parbo before sitting down to do his daily academic studies. This was when he was a boy and an adolescent. 

Joy was a relative of mine, quite an exceptional one anyway. He used to walk several miles to our place to do his tuition with me and after class return walking all the way home which is what prompted me to call him 'Kolir Visyasagar'. The last time I met him was in December, 2024 at a family function, and the last time I spoke to him over the phone was when his mother passed away last year, and here I am now writing this little note on someone who has the world noting his achievements for good. 

Goodbye, Joy. We will meet again for sure. 🕉 Brahma!

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