Rajat Subhra Chatterjee
I don’t belong to politics, neither belonging to any media. I have no piggy bag. I have seen Subrata Mukherjee from a distance practically with different eyes. Yet I had opportunities to meet him couple of times purely on non-political reasons. And those brief encounters have remained as bright as ever.
Today, when Subrata has gone to His heavenly abode, my eyes go back 53 years in 1968. I was then finishing my college with St. Pauls’ on Amherst Street and our main ‘adda’ place was naturally College Street and Coffee House.
On a sunny afternoon of 1968, some of us were in one such adda at the crossing of Bankim Chatterjee Street and College Street, almost opposite the gate of Presidency College. We saw Subrata and Priyaranjan were walking together from Kolkata University side towards Presidency gate. All were quite till suddenly, we heard a huge commotion and all on a sudden, 20 odd youths appeared from no where and gathered in front of Subrata and Priyaranjan. We were initially bemused but our mood got changed in no time, as we saw the big group, after initial light jostling, picked up both Subrata and Priyaranjan literally on their shoulders and marched inside Presidency College. They actually carried both of them in a sort of procession on to the terrace of Presidency College. All took place in front of our eyes in broad day light and in a flash. That was peak Naxal period and one of my classmates, known to be a naxalite, was also amongst the group that carried away Subrata and Priya. Few others in the group were known to me by name and face only. We counted our time as we knew that both of them would be having a very hard time at the hands of that group. Meanwhile, news got spread and another strong group of youths led by Somen Mitra came rushing from Amherst Street and went straight up to the terrace of Presidency College. We prayed to God.
We were standing in a hideout opposite Presidency gate and after half an hour, could see both Subrata, Priya and Somen followed by their supporters came out from the Presidency portico and out of the gate on to the College Street, with torn, crushed Kurta and clear signs of beating on their body. The three musketeers then disappeared somewhere towards Harrison Road with their followers.
That was my first sight of Subrata Mukherjee who actually did not relent to the naxalites, rather became a stumbling block to them in years to follow. That the very next year, in 1969, Chatra Parisad was born and all three became active in state and national politics is another matter but my first sight of Subrata gave me an impression of his fighting spirit and never-say-die attitude. In the hindsight today, I feel that it was the combined fight, endeavour and efforts of these three along with few others like Pradip Bhattacharjee, Pradip Ghosh, Abdul Mannan, were instrumental for Congress to come back to power in 1971. Well, I was not keen on that, as Cricket was then my only dream.
Subrata had a very close aid in Sushovan Bose of Chakraberia lane. A tall, handsome chartered accountant. We used to call Sushovan as ‘Khokon Da’. Both of them were die hard Mohun Bagan supporters. At the behest of Subrata, through the efforts of Khokon da, we could bring Chuni Goswami and Altaf, the then side back of Mohun Bagan to a Road football tournament finals played under flood lights. When we used to go to watch a Mohun Bagan match and gather in front of the Mohun Bagan gate on a match day, Khokon Da used to take all of us, may be ten/ fifteen at a time, inside the ground without any hassles and all these were possible as he had the blessings of Subrata Mukherjee. Sushovan later came into the committee of Mohun Bagan also. Khokon Da left us unfortunately some 25 years back.
Time and tide wait for none. Subrata became Kolkata Mayor in 2000 when I was firmly based as a Corporate decision maker. I remember having met Subrata in 2001 twice purely on official ground and he requested me one day to meet him at his house. So I had gone to his Ballygunge house on a Sunday morning . As I entered, Subrata asked me what sweet should I prefer ! Before I could respond, he ordered for a plate and that was omni presented in front of me with five big sized sweets. He was a lover of sweets. The couple of times I met him one-to-one, I found him very soft spoken yet rigid on his point. He did not favour me at all but assured me that no wrong would be done to my company.
And he kept his word. And he has departed. Subrata’s has not been an ordinary life. More colourful, more result oriented and more loved than many of his other compatriots. Yet, at the end, all our coffin sizes will remain the same.
