Bapa,
Pranam!
On this day, 37 years ago, you chose to give up your fight against abrupt illness. How could you do that, Bapa? You were a great fighter and a strong person all through your life. From early childhood, you preferred to shun a cosy life and jumped into freedom struggle and Gadjat Praja movement. You always fought to make the society better, you always fought to keep the family in high stead - morally. Bapa, in spite of being such a great fighter how did you choose to give up the fight against your illness?
Bapa, your choice to give up fight left me and Nani without our lovable and caring father. Our large joint family including the extended family had lost its real head; the village had lost its soul, the Sonepur province had lost its stalwart, and the humanity had lost a progressive thinker and reformer.
Bapa, I was not even 10 years old when you took that decision to leave us for another abode in God's own territory. I was still a kid. But some of the memories of you, our beloved father, are deeply entrenched in my memory. Within that small span of less than 10 years that I had the opportunity to be with you, I have seen many functions and roles that you were playing - of a father, of a family head, of a village elder, of a social leader, of a political stalwart, of a farmer. All those memories make me emotional, happy and proud. From where were you getting the energy to do so many things, Bapa?
1. Bapa, when I started to learn and get acquainted with the environment around me I found books, small to very large and in at least five languages – Odia, Hindi, Sanskrit, English and Bengali, neatly tucked in wooden racks and almirahs all around our house. I learnt that you get knowledge from the books. Bapa was always finding time, even with his busy schedules, to read the books and use those. In his bookshelves you will find all kinds of books – ayurvedic books and journals, journals from leading agriculture universities, religious books, political magazines. Then I was not aware that Bapa had not even gone to High School. Later when I learnt about that, Bapa was no more with us. Otherwise, I would have definitely asked Bapa, how he acquired so much of knowledge without going to school.
2. Bapa, there were two almirahs in the Puja room with varieties of ayurvedic medicines. All were prepared by you with great effort and care. I learnt that Bapa was also a ayurvedic doctor who can prepare medicine himself. People were getting free medicine from him. Later I learnt that Bapa had acquired that knowledge through reading only. Many Kabirajs were seeking Bapa’s assistance to identify species. Bapa had even started plantation of botanical species with medicinal properties.
3. Bapa, when you were making tours to different places, you were taking me with you. I had accompanied you on your tours by bicycle as well as by your official jeep. On one occasion I remember travelling with you on a motorcycle. But someone else was driving the vehicle. I have seen you dealing with common men as well as high ranking government officials. Then I was not able to make much from such interactions. But later I realised how commanding, clear and respectful you were in your dealings. I have also accompanied you in election rallies and meetings. Bapa, you had taken me to SanAnkaria, a village about four kilometres from our village, by cycle to cast your vote in a 1977 election. Later, I learnt that your party, Congress, had lost that election badly. But even on that day when Congress party was being hated out of power from all over India, you were lovingly and respectfully welcomed by SanAnkaria villagers. I remember accompanying you to meetings and discussions with top political leaders including former Chief Minister Nandini Satpathy. I remember being with you when you suddenly had to divert to a spot, by bicycle, after hearing a violent fight between two factions in a village about five kilometers from ours. Though I was kept out at a secured place, I could clearly see from the window how Bapa handled both the parties and how the dispute was resolved within an hour or two after he intervened. It was about 12 midnight of chilly winter.
4. I have many funny memories of you, Bapal. I will share about one such incident. In one afternoon, when I learnt that you will be going to our state capital Bhubaneswar to bring a Jeep for the block office, I drained out my coin kitty. That had five 5 paise coins in total. I gave those five coins to you and asked you to bring another jeep for me. I remember accompanying you to field a few days later. Paddy transplantation was underway then. Must have been a July or August. I remember the field as well. It was ‘Amba duli’ and we were sitting under a Jamun tree on the bund of 'Mahapuru Bandh'. You had returned from Bhubaneswar that forenoon. I remember curiously asking you, 'Bapa, where is the Jeep for which I had given you 25 paise'? You said, it is in the block office as we do not have a garage at home. It is a different matter that the jeep continued staying in the block office garage forever.
5. Bapa, I have accompanied you to agriculture fields in heavy rains, bitter winters and terrible summers. Every time I would get new examples of your desire for perfection. On one occasion you found the rows not straight enough. You asked to plough that again and do transplantation afresh. Our ‘bari’, the fruit and vegetable field, bore the stamp of your immense knowledge and interest. It had almost everything that could have grown in our climate – betel leaf, haldi, ginger, banana, papaya, orange, lemon, mangoes, guava, grapes, and even bhanga leaves; and flower & vegetables of numerous varieties. At no time of the year, the one and half acre compact garden, adjacent to our home, looked deserted.
6. Bapa, I have also seen you getting angry – with officers, with Maa, with workers and so on. But I do not have much memory of that as I tried to run away from you when you were in such mood. But I do not remember you ever hitting me. I remember one occasion when I had jaundice fever and I was in a lot of pain. I remember how you had cancelled all his programmes to be with me full-time and taking care of me.
7. Bapa, I have many memories of you when you were fighting against your illness. You probably stayed in different wards of VSS Medical College for about two months. As a patient, you were getting a packet of ‘Renus’ bread, some milk and a boiled egg. I was savouring those delicacies whenever I was at hospital. Bapa, your instinct to fight for justice, through democratic means, stayed with you till your end. You were seriously ill and yet you strongly protested against the unhygienic condition of toilets in different wards of VSS medical college hospital in Burla. You had even threatened to launch hunger strike if things do not improve. I have heard that the authorities agreed to your demands.
8. Bapa, I clearly remember the evening before you eventually left us. You were sitting on your hospital bed. You asked me to come to your side and cuddled me. I do not remember what I said to you or what you said to me. On that evening I was not aware that something terrible was in store for us in the next morning. I was not aware that that was the last cuddle I will ever get from you, Bapa.
9. Bapa, in the next morning I remember Nilambara dada coming to the Fatak residence in a black ambassador car (Then Nani, Gain had taken on rent a house close to Budharaja ME School, just besides the Sambalpur Road station. While father was admitted in hospital we were staying with Nani. Jinu Bhanja was only about a week old then). Somehow, I had missed the leads from the faces around me. May be because my fascination for car, bus and trains. When I was told that we will go to village in the car I was very happy and excited. When I was told that you too have returned back to village in another car I was happier. When the car entered the village I saw my ME school gates and doors closed. It was neither a Sunday or a holiday. I was hoping to wave at, from the car, my fellow school friends. That would have been a moment of pride for me – waving from a moving car. As the school was closed I regretted losing that opportunity. As we entered middle of our village, Panchamahala, I found out the other car, a white ambassador, parked beside the temple wall. I was hoping that the whole village will dance in joy at seeing not one but two cars at a time. But, I saw heavy and moist faces all around. When they saw us, me, Maa and Nani getting out of the car; their cries only got louder. I ran inside the house only to find that you were lying motionless in sleeping position near the Tulsi ‘choura’. It took me some time to realise that you were no more with us, you had already left us. I clearly remember crying my heart out. In fact, I remember everybody crying, inconsolably. Even ‘Kakas’, too, were crying - in ways, I had never imagined. They were crying like small kids. Kalia dada was crying and cursing the God. I remember him crying, ‘God, I was doing your puja everyday. This is what you gave us?’. Later I saw him throw stones at ‘Kandhen budhi debta’ in anger. I remember people carrying Bapa towards Mahanadi Ghat. Baba, as the elders were taking you away on a cot, I accompanied you till the end of the village but then somebody carried me back from their against my wish. That was the last time I saw you physically.
10. Bapa, in the afternoon, I remember eating rice and dal (without salt, haldi or spices) in the cowshed. At that time my school headmaster Nayak sir was seating beside me. He handed me over 108 rupees. That was my class fifth scholarship money for one year, nine rupees a month. What a day that was! I had lost you, my father, in the morning and was getting my scholarship from my revered headmaster.
11. Baba, since then you have come in my dream many times. I remember one such dream where you took me, holding my fingers, to the village ‘kata’ where a syphon was being constructed. Bapa, that syphon, which you had visioned, is yet to be constructed.
Bapa, whatever I have seen of you is very little. Others know far more than what I know of you. But even in that little period that I have been with you, you have given me a lot. You continue to guide me with your memory, your writings, and your messages through others (like Nani).
Bapa… you were so great! But, Bapa... I still have one complaint - you left me a little too early.
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