Rajat Subra Chatterjee
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After a gap of a month or so, I am back with my thoughts again to share with you all.
In my childhood, I had never known what was Fathers Day, Mothers Day etc. Only we knew about Children’s Day on 14th November and much later, when I became a father, I came to know that there is some day called Valentine’s Day.
I never had to bother about Fathers’ Day or Mothers’ Day as to me every day belonged to my father and mother. I was under strict vigil of my Dad and unequalled love from my mother. If I had done any mischief, I was promptly taken to task by my Dad. Consequently my mother came in the rescue act and saved me from more embarrassment.
I have lost my father 22 years back and mother 16 years. Still, not even a single day passes by, without taking a look at their photos and taking their blessings for all my deeds. More than my mother, it was my father ( perhaps in most families as well ), who really guided me in all my acts, deeds and indulged me in all sorts of avenues that would later shape my destiny. I must confess, that I have very strong memories of my childhood. My memories of my adulthood or manhood are not so strong however.
I was first helped by my Dad to be able to walk and put my steps properly. He was the first person who took me out on the bank of river for a stroll in the evening. He was the first person who used to play outdoor games with me. He taught me how to ride a bicycle. He let me use my common sense to balance the cycle. That was hilarious.
In my infancy, my Dad used to take me along with him on mini official local tours in his jeep and I used to enjoy those rides under the safe lap of Dad’s assistants / orderlies in the back seats. I used to enjoy the adulation of Dad’s assistants and other officers and was usually a very contended infant till I was ten. When I became thirteen, my Dad arranged the Children’s Day program inside SDO bungalow on 14th November and made me the President of that function. Imagine ! That was the very first occasion and experience of mine as President which would later pave the way for my being chosen to preside over so many programs in my life. But the first day memory would never be lost.
That was my father, a robust bureaucrat yet with a heart of extreme softness. He was like a coconut. Hard exterior, soft inside. When I was fourteen, one day he took me along with him to his court room in Kandi Sub Divisional Magistrate Court. He made me seated beside his Head Peskar ( Court Clerk ) on the side dais as he resumed his ritual hearings seating on the Judge’s chair. That was fascinating and thrilling too for me being so young to have witnessed accused being brought in and out as the lawyers continued their arguments. I remember my Dad was handling tricky situations with aplomb and deftly. That couple of hours’ session taught me – first listen. Allow others to speak. Let the arguments and counter arguments take place. At the end, you deliver your judgment. This helped me later in my life when presiding over crucial official and professional meetings and sessions. Listening is an art.
Around that time, came the Rabindra Centenary in 1961. Dad organized a mammoth Centenary Celebration bringing in famed singers like Kanika Bondopadhyay, Suchitra Mitra, Debabrata Biswas and men like Kaji Sabyasachi recited. He arranged music and poetry competition and made all our brothers and sisters participate. We were well rehearsed and tutored by Dad, days after days and we performed creditably. That was yet another exposure that Dad had given to us. He wished that we grow and find out our own way in future.
I soon became a sports maniac. Dad saw in me the potential to blossom in this line as well. He took me personally to Kolkata Maidan one day to witness big clubs playing. That was my first glimpse of Chuni Goswami. Dad took me to Eden Gardens to witness the Test match against England and I saw for the first time Tiger Pataudi. Equally graceful was English captain Ted Dexter. I was over the moon. At the juncture of adolescence, my interest in classical music was aroused by my Dad who took me to night long sessions of musical soiree in Bango Sanskriti Sonmelon. Thereafter, when I ultimately started playing grade cricket in 1st division in Kolkata Maidan, my father, remembering my early age interest, told me – “ Nothing goes waste in Life.”
I have remembered this as gospel. I can not forget what kind of stress and strain my Dad had taken in his early age to maintain his family. Though my Mother, at a later stage, had overtaken his by her own stress and strain even to a larger manner. Well, it is another story, another time.
Today I am aged and enjoy in the company of so many of my grand children. Yet, as I sit back, I remember as well, what kind of stress, agony and physical strain my only son had undertaken in his early professional life to become today some one to be proud of. He is too a caring, dotting and loving Dad to his two little Angels, and this generates a sense of relaxation going down my system.
If my Son is my inspiration, my Dad was my path finder. He was my idol and definitely has been and will remain my First HERO .
Bless us my HERO.
